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Big Dick's Trucking Service, Inc: Part 2

"Keith meets the guys and begins his new career."

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I felt my right nut slip from Stella's lips as she released it and moved to the left, suctioning that one in for the same tongue bath she’d just completed on the right one. Her hand continued to slide up and down my hard shaft, stroking my full length with an extra twist applied to the swollen head of my cock each time her hand enclosed it. Her expert ball-sucking combined with her small, soft hand jerking me off had all of my nerve endings a tingle and my fires raging!

In the meantime, I was slapping tongue to pussy with considerable enthusiasm, lapping up her drippings and swallowing them down. Both of us blowing our loads in her just a short time before had left her very effectively cum-filled, despite what had run out of her as she’d walked around and climbed into the truck. She was soupy, sloppy and dripping, and if I hadn’t been so incredibly, quiveringly, achingly horny I could never have done it.

Going back down there for a taste after myself, sure, no problem. It was a little trick that a lot of ladies, especially married ones, went crazy over, but I’d never followed up someone else before. To lap up the Chief’s load from his wife, along with my own, was something new, and really not at all bad as it turned out because Stella was wiggling and moaning and mashing her pussy to my face, thoroughly enjoying it, which made it all worthwhile! Never hurts to be on the right side of the boss’s wife… or between her legs, for that matter.

She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying giving me a blowjob too, apparently quite pleased that I’d had no difficulty getting it up again so soon. She’d let my other nut slip free of her vacuuming mouth and they both dangled there wet and happy as she gobbled my cock. She was good at it, and if I hadn’t just let off pressure a short time before she’d have had me losing it within just a few minutes, but as it was I was able to relax and enjoy it. And enjoy it I did!

She came a couple of times as I tongued her, making sure to hit all the spots that seemed to get the best response. Stella had a very prominent clit, chubby as my index finger and sticking out nearly an inch, and when I sucked it into my mouth and flicked it with my tongue she seemed to almost vibrate, her body quivering like she had a finger in an electrical socket as she made funny little mewling sounds. I interpreted that to be a very good thing, mostly because I didn’t know what else it could be.

After her second orgasm, she apparently decided that was enough of that oral stuff, because she whipped around, more nimbly than I would have ever given her credit for, and began to slide that slippery, wet mess of a pussy on my cock as she leaned over me and bounced her big ole’ titties on my face! I did a credible job of catching one or the other of those big, hard, pink nipples as they swung by, using lips, tongue and teeth to make sure they stayed wet and hard. It was a little like playing "Whack-a-Mole" as she kept ‘em moving, but it was a fun challenge.

Of course, she was doing a very skillful job of teasing my cock at the same time as it stood upright from my groin, the tip just tickling her wet, puffy pussy lips. She’d move her hips, sliding her slick lips over the tip without ever letting me get more than that tiny bit past her portal. It was maddeningly intense, her rubbing the most sensitive part of my body that way, and I ached to bury my length inside of her and have her ride me all the way down to my aching balls.

She knew it too, knew exactly what she was doing to me, and when I eventually groaned in frustration she giggled and slid back, taking my entire length in one fast plunge. Apparently, my frustrated groan was the sign of capitulation she’d been waiting for and she took mercy on me and engulfed my cock with her steamy pussy. For me, it was the cause for a completely different kind of groan, a few moans, and probably a bit of gasping too, as her slick, tight, heat engulfed me.

She began to bounce up and down on me with considerable enthusiasm, which set her big, luscious tits a-bouncin', also with considerable enthusiasm. That being much too attractive to pass up, I grabbed them and began to squeeze and maul those babies, showing some enthusiasm of my own. If you’re starting to get the idea that we were enthusiastic about our fucking, you’re getting the picture.

I was pinching and rolling her big nipples with my fingers, and, lest I think that I was being too rough on them, she kept saying, “Harder, harder! Squeeze ‘em, Keeter, pinch those nipples!”

Apparently I was being too gentle, afraid that I would hurt her, but it became apparent that was not the case; I gladly squeezed and pinched harder, tugging on her nipples and earning squeals… of delight, I assume, anyway! I was completely wrapped up in the sensation of my hands full of her boobs and her pussy full of my cock. Definitely an attention-grabbing situation, maybe one of the best in the history of attention-grabbing situations!

Still, even though I was caught up in the moment I felt the truck list slightly to port as someone climbed up onto the driver-side step. I heard the door open and was freaking out a bit, but Stella never missed a beat, bouncing on my hard cock as the last of our cum squished out of her and ran down my balls.

Seconds later the Chief’s giant bowling ball of a head poked through the curtain between the cab and the sleeper, where we were busily going at it. I jerked my hands away from her boobs like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar, only faster. More like a guy caught with his hands all over his boss’s wife’s tits, actually!

He just looked at us and shook his big head. “So that’s where ya are!”

Stella piped up cheerfully, “Hi, sweetheart!”

“Shoulda known you’d be humpin’ the new guy. Got him broke in yet?”

“I don’t know… Keeter, you broke in yet?”

“Uhh, I don’t… umm… getting there, I think.”

I was not at my conversational best; her bouncing up and down on me, all of my ten inches sliding in and out of her while her husband leaned in and watched us, left me feeling more than a little lost and confused. Clearly they had a relationship that was somewhat outside of my realm of experience… but at least, I’d retained my mastery of the understatement.

He nodded. “Don’t let her wear ya out, you’re gonna need your energy next week. Hey, when you’re done bonin’ my wife, have her take ya around to meet the guys. Bunch of ‘em are just wrappin’ up a game of basketball in the gym.”

“The gym?”

He grinned proudly. “Yeah, we got a gym, spa, fitness center, laundry – even a barber shop.”

Stella interrupted. “I was already planning on introducing him around – and it’s a hair salon.”

He grumbled. “Fuck that, he cuts hair. That’s what barbers do… but yeah, we need our guys to look good and stay in shape.” He pointed a chubby finger at me, saying, “Use it! Ya can’t count on stayin’ in shape just by fuckin’ Stella all the time!”

“Yes, sir… I mean, no sir. I mean yeah, I’ll use it… the gym and fitness center, I mean, not your wife. No problem.” I desperately needed to stop talking.

He laughed at my discomfiture and leaned in to kiss her. She leaned toward him and they swapped spit. As they did, he reached down and patted her bottom as it continued to bob up and down on my cock. Before pulling his hand back he reached down and gave my balls a squeeze, his massive hand engulfing my aching scrotum. I was startled and a little weirded-out… but yeah, it actually felt pretty good!

After he’d left and the truck stopped rocking from him climbing off it, Stella said, “He really seems to like you!”

I nodded. “Yeah, maybe a little too much!”

She giggled. “Why, because he fondled your balls? Don’t think anything of that, he does that to all the guys. He’s an equal opportunity employer.”

“I’m not sure that’s what that means, Stella. Look, it’s weird, okay?”

She paused, holding me deep inside of her, her ass pressed into my balls as I toyed with her hard nipples. “Just roll with it, Keith. You’ll find it’s a really fun place to work – and you’ve got a great cock, so I sorta want to keep you around.”

I was relieved that she called me Keith, and flattered by her admiration of my dick, but still… “That whole 'test' thing, where I had to last fifteen minutes – does he really do that with everyone he interviews?”

She started moving again, her tight pussy sucking my cock. “He does. But the ones that he knows won’t work out don’t ever get to last the full fifteen. Did he give you the finger in the ass treatment?”

“Thumb, actually.”

“Oooh! He has huge thumbs.”

“Tell me about it!”

She giggled again. “He only shoves his thumb up the ass of guys he really likes. The thing is if he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have waited until the fifteen minutes was up. He’d have buggered you back about the seven or eight-minute mark and sent you packing!”

“Gosh, I guess I should be happy about that. Maybe if my ass wasn’t still so tender…”

She giggled again. “You’re funny, Keeter! Just don’t ever let him get behind you with that big cock of his! You think your ass is sore now…”

She was back to calling me Keeter, but I was so horrified by the other thing that I barely noticed.

“Seriously? He’d do that?”

She smiled. “He’s been known to, yeah. There are a couple of the guys that really like it, but you’ll figure out who they are soon enough. It stings a little at first, but when you get used to it, mmm, so good! And it’s like he said, you gotta keep an open mind.”

I muttered, “And a closed ass…” but apparently I was loud enough that she overheard me, and she laughed again.

“Good luck with that around here; it’s a horny bunch! And don’t worry, he’s a considerate guy – he’ll give you a reach-around.”

“Stella, it may surprise you to know that the thought of him giving me a reach-around while he splits me like a hickory rail is no comfort at all.”

She merely giggled again. “Are you getting close to coming yet?”

“No, not really. Why? Are we in a hurry?” She was riding me quite nicely and it felt too good to rush; the truth was I could have come at any time if I just focused for a few seconds, but I was in no hurry.

She nodded, frowning slightly. “Yes, we are. We’re supposed to take you to meet some of the others before they all go home for the weekend. Hmmm, let’s see if we can move this process along a little more quickly – not that I’m in a hurry myself, you understand.” She reached behind her and started fondling my balls. She was right, that would inevitably accelerate the process somewhat.

Somewhat, but not nearly as much as what she did a moment later; suddenly, and with no prior warning, she shoved her middle finger up my ass! Caught completely off guard (for the last time, I promised myself,) I let out a startled yelp. “Yikes! Oww, hey! What is it with you people and assholes? You should at least have to buy me dinner first.”

I was objecting to being a human shish-kebab, but the reality was that it was feeling pretty good – again – and again I felt the pressure of my orgasm about to cut loose. Her long, slender finger was certainly less intrusive than the big guy’s massive thumb, but the end result was going to be the same, I could tell.

Stella giggled her patented little-girl giggle again. I should have been sick of it by now, but oddly I wasn’t. I was actually finding it quite endearing, but that may have had something to do with the fact that I had my cock in her pussy and her finger up my ass, both things which might skew one’s perspective on such matters.

She wriggled her finger in me teasingly, again stroking my abused prostate. “The way to a man’s heart is through his asshole!”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s how that saying goes… Uunnhhh, it does feel pretty good, though!”

“You gonna come soon?”

“Unhhh, yes! Yes… right now, as a matter of fact!” I grabbed her hips and held her tightly to me as I arched up, thrusting into her as I released my second big load within the hour. I pumped and pumped, her finger goading me to my best effort, and by the time I was empty it felt like I was just poofing out little puffs of dust, I was that dry.

She’d come as I had, apparently really enjoying the feeling of my thick cock pumping and spurting inside of her, and she allowed herself to collapse in exhaustion and rest her head on my chest… for maybe thirty seconds, then it was back to work!

“Okay, let’s go, we’re wasting daylight!” She slid off of me and to her feet, dribbling cum everywhere. “Let’s take you to meet the guys.”

I stood, a bit light-headed and tender-assed, and pulled my pants up over my dripping wet parts and got them fastened as she straightened her clothes the best she could. She did remember to stow her tits away this time, but there was no way you could miss her just-fucked look or the scent of sex that enveloped her… and that’s assuming there was not a fresh stream of cum trickling down her leg for all to see, which there was. She didn’t seem concerned, so I resolved not to be either.

We climbed down, Stella clearly very experienced at a smooth dismount from the high truck cab even in a short skirt and heels and we made our way to the building. She tossed me the keys to my new truck and then led me down a long hallway, past a weight room and some windows that overlooked a pool and spa; the Chief hadn’t mentioned those!

The pool was vacant, the surface smooth and calm, but there were three people in the spa – or, more accurately, one in and two sitting on the edge, two men and a woman. The woman, a slender redhead, was the one in the tub, and she was leaning over the lap of one of the two men sitting on the edge, busily sucking his big cock while she simultaneously stroked the large, equally stiff dick of the other. Stella paused for a moment, smiling. “That’s Ron and Don, our twins; they drive as a team, and that’s Barbie with them, our company nurse. You can meet them later since they look busy.”

She dragged me away after I’d had a chance to note that the two men were indeed identical, as best I could tell. I’d have stayed to watch, probably, but I remembered that we were in a hurry and allowed myself to be pulled along. When we turned into the doorway to the gym, which contained a full regulation-size basketball court, we found it empty, half the lights off and a lone basketball sitting on the line at center-court.

She frowned. “Uh-oh, hope we haven’t missed them! I should have given you the finger sooner, I guess.”

“Yeah, you know, about that…”

She interrupted, grabbing my hand and pulling me forward. “C’mon, hurry!”

We rushed across the vacant gym, her sense of urgency contagious. When we came to a door marked “Men's Locker Room” she barely hesitated, pushing it open.

I pulled her back. “Stella, this is the men’s locker – you can’t go in there!”

She looked at me like I’d grown a second head – or, more accurately, a third. Apparently what I’d said was such a foreign concept that she couldn’t comprehend how the words had even come out of my mouth, much less their meaning. She shook her head in pity at my ignorance and plunged ahead, pulling me along in her wake.

I heard the babble of men’s voices before we saw them, the laughter and good-natured jabs flying back and forth, the sound familiar and comforting from all of my own sports, gym and health club hours. When we rounded the corner and the locker room opened out before us I could see it was a good number of guys, I’d guess somewhere between fifteen and twenty although I never got an accurate count.

If I’d really needed an accurate count, however, I could have done it by counting all the testicles and dividing by two, because virtually all of them were naked. In addition, it was immediately apparent that every one of these guys was one of those, like me, that skew the ‘average penis size’ graph upward; there was not a guy in the room that wasn’t hung!

There also wasn’t a guy in the room that seemed the least concerned or surprised about Stella and I walking in on them. In fact, if you’ll recall the old TV sitcom “Cheers”, it was like when Norm walks into the bar and everyone yells “Norm!” Except in this case, of course, that would have made no sense, so instead they all yelled, “Stella!”

She laughed and waded in among the fit, toned, well-hung, naked, male bodies, bringing me along with her. She greeted them by name, patting a sweaty, muscular ass here, fondling a set of heavy, dangly balls there, trading kisses and lovingly stroking more than a few of those big cocks. She, in turn, was getting her titties squeezed and her ass patted and pinched, and a couple of the guys even reached between her legs, withdrawing wet, semen-slick fingers for their efforts. Nobody seemed to mind - or even be surprised - in the least.

She began to introduce me around, and I was relieved when she told them my name was Keith; I hadn’t thought to say anything, but I was glad that she wasn’t using "Keeter". I met a Steve and a Mike and a Malcolm, as well as a Doug, a Jimmy and a Tyrone. There were also nicknames bandied about, and I prayed that there was not going to be a pop-quiz afterward because I knew I was not going to remember hardly any of the names.

I’d remember Tyrone because he was big and black and the name seemed so stereotypical, and also Shorty because he was about six-foot-eight in his bare feet. Hell, even in his bare everything he was still six-foot-eight, and endowed proportionately! I was starting to feel a little overdressed, but I didn’t offer to strip down. I was sure it would happen soon enough; all things in their time.

I’d also remember Tripod because he was a little person – a midget – with a thick, uncircumcised cock that hung down to his knees. Literally to his knees, and hence the nickname, I suppose. He seemed a jovial sort, considering his eye-level view was all nuts and assholes. It would be difficult to go through life meeting nothing but nuts and assholes.

I wondered how he could even climb up into a truck, much less drive one, but I was assured that he could and that he was a favorite among certain clients of the firm.

Eventually, as we circulated among the naked guys, Stella made the fatal mistake. She said innocently enough, “Keeter will be starting on Monday, and he’ll be taking the Western Loop.”

I groaned inwardly, knowing that henceforth my name would be "Keeter". Tripod, who, it turned out, was a little hard of hearing, unwittingly saved me from that fate, although I’m not sure it was much of a save. “Skeeter, huh? Why do they call you Skeeter, ‘cause you got a dick the size of one?” That drew a round of laughter from the assemblage.

Stella patted me on the crotch, cupping her hand below my bulge and squeezing possessively. “Oh, let me assure you, Tripod, Keeter is very nicely endowed! Would he be here otherwise?”

There was a series of hoots, whistles and catcalls, each of these guys no doubt fully aware of the interview-slash-initiation process I’d already been through, and that Stella was undoubtedly in a position to know of what she spoke.

Thankfully, there were no calls for me to prove it because it would not have been possible for my face to get any redder. There followed a lot of slaps on the back, welcoming me into their midst, and a lot of, “Welcome, Skeeter” greetings, enough so that I knew I’d been re-christened, my new nickname permanently bestowed. What the hell, it was better than Keeter, and although Stella continued to address me as that, nobody else ever did.

A dripping-wet Steve questioned Stella about being bumped from the Western Loop, but she reassured him that he was being reassigned to the North Run, and he seemed satisfied with that. He grinned at me. “You’re gonna love the Western Loop, Skeeter, especially if you like having your balls sucked and you don’t care who does it!”

I smiled weakly, utterly lost. “Well, who doesn’t love having their balls sucked, right?”

“Attaboy!” He slapped me on the back and continued to towel himself dry as if that explained everything.

My head was spinning, trying to take it all in. The casual attitude to the boss’s wife wandering among them, touching and stroking their dangly bits – some of which were becoming noticeably less dangly – was difficult to absorb. The other thing, the naked guys all hanging out, literally and figuratively, in the locker room after their game or workouts, a few of them now with huge erections, the pervasive casual, anything-goes attitude about sex and nudity… it was unusual, to say the least, but liberating somehow.

In one respect I fitted in easily; we were all truck drivers, and although I’d just joined their company and met them, we had that common ground on which to begin our acquaintance. Drivers are naturally a garrulous and loquacious bunch, a result of all the lonely, solitary hours behind the wheel, I suspect. I fell in with a group of them, including Steve, Tripod, and a guy called Tincan, and we began to exchange trucking war stories, laughing or sympathizing with each other’s plight as was appropriate.

After awhile I barely noticed anymore that they were all naked and apparently in no hurry to dress, or to feel overdressed myself. It just didn’t seem to matter. When Tincan put his foot up on the bench I was sitting on, which placed his oversized junk about two feet from my face, I did happen to notice that his ballsack drew up a good two inches or so every time he laughed. That was an odd thing to note, that he had a ball laugh rather than a belly laugh.

After what seemed like a few minutes but was probably the better part of an hour, the group was beginning to thin and many of the remaining guys were either full or partially dressed. I looked around for Stella, to see if there was anything else I needed to do before I left.

It didn’t take long to find her; she was in the middle of a small knot of guys at the end of the long row of lockers, between the dressing area and the showers, her legs wrapped around Tyrone’s waist as he stood with his back against the wall. She had his big black cock in her pussy, and another guy, who I think was introduced as Coyote, was behind her, rhythmically thrusting his thick white cock into her ass, their balls slapping together merrily as he reached around her and mauled her tits. And she seemed to love it, being the meat in a Stella-sandwich!

I may have missed an earlier performance, perhaps more than one because cum and her fluids were oozing out of her and dripping from Tyrone’s heavy nutsack. I'm pretty sure there was too much of that for it to be just the earlier contributions from me and the Chief anymore; somebody must have added to it – copiously - while I sat chatting!

Two of the guys I’d met, Lance and Doug, I believe, were standing and watching the show, casually stroking… each other! Doug’s hand on Lance’s hard cock and vice-versa, they were enjoying a bit of mutually satisfying voyeurism, and again nobody seemed to find any of this unusual. I was plenty hard myself by this point and could have used a hand, so to speak, but was not nearly comfortable enough to join in the circle-jerk around the boss’s wife and her two studs.

I heard Lance (or Doug, I wasn’t really sure which was which) groan, and Doug (or Lance, whatever) bent and took his cock into his mouth in time to catch his load, and again everyone took it in stride. As they did once again, when Doug (or Lance… you get the idea) came seconds later and either Lance or Doug took it down the throat as well. It was a strangely friendly, companionable act, both very casual about it and appearing to quite enjoy it!

This was a severely oversexed group, that was plain, and there seemed to be nothing off limits. Obviously, they were all very open-minded, but my head was spinning, wondering what kind of crazy company I’d just hired on with. Still, it all seemed to be good, clean, sticky, fun, and it was all quite arousing, and I sort of figured that at some point my comfort level with the other drivers would expand to cover this type of thing too. Maybe. Or maybe not.

For now, though, I decided it was time to head for the ranch.

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I said my goodbyes to the guys around me and wanted to say goodbye to Stella and find out if there was anything else I needed to know for Monday, but she seemed fully occupied with the two guys spit-roasting her against the wall. I stood awkwardly waiting, watching them go at it, my cock throbbing as I wondered how often she came down to the locker room for a gangbang, and she eventually saw me there and read my intent, calling me over.

“You, unh, leaving, unh, Keeter?” Her speech was interrupted by rhythmic grunts and moans as the two guys pounded into her, but she was still easy to understand.

“Yup, think I’ll call it a day. See you Monday morning?”

She giggled. “Yes, you, mmm, will! Be here by, unh, five o’clock, unh, and we’ll, mmm, get you, unh… get you, mmm, going.”

She leaned toward me and puckered up, wanting a kiss. I’d never kissed a woman that was being actively fucked by two other guys before – or even one other guy, for that matter – but I figured what the hell and leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were soft and puffy and hot like she’d maybe just been giving a blowjob, and the thick scent and taste of semen on her tongue confirmed it. I idly wondered which guy's cum I tasted, but again it didn’t really matter. It was a boundary-stretcher, no matter which one it had been.

Stella clearly loved getting her fill of that particular elixir from both ends – or perhaps all three ends, as the case may be - and seemed to have a prodigious appetite for sex in general! I was beginning to suspect that she might be a nympho. Duh, right?

I left, going over the day’s insane activities in my head as I drove home, wondering if it had all been a dream. At home, as I peeled my stiff, sticky “under-britches” off and noted that my ass was still a bit sensitive I realized that it had not, that I had actually just hired on with what seemed to be a bunch of sex-crazed loons. It promised to be an interesting time.

The weekend went by swiftly, and, being employed again, it seemed like a prime time to get out and hunt for some things I’d been putting off buying. Oddly I had no urge whatsoever to go out to the bars and try to get myself laid, the repeated draining of my tank on Friday seeming to be sufficient, so between my shopping and taking some time to get my apartment and bills in order, I had time to get plenty of rest. That was something that they all had recommended as I was leaving, and it seemed prudent to follow their advice.

Stella was there when I arrived Monday morning, bright-eyed and round-tailed, appearing no worse the wear for her busy Friday; apparently massive quantities of sex with numerous well-hung studs was like oxygen to her because she appeared to be thriving! She handed me a cell phone, a folder with all the necessary papers for the truck, a clipboard with bills of lading for my load, and a piece of paper with my employee number on it for payroll, fuel purchases and Qualcomm log-on. She also gave me my dispatcher’s name, Monica, and contact information. She was on the ball, clearly smarter and more capable than I’d given her credit for.

She walked out to my truck with me. “You have two stops scheduled for today; one in Simpsonville, about 200 miles out, and another in Pott’s Town, about 140 miles further, several pallets for each. You have two more tomorrow, three on Wednesday and again on Thursday, and two on Friday as you head back home. The Western Loop is twelve stops, sometimes thirteen, and about 1,600 miles total. Pace yourself!”

I was very accustomed to driving 2,500 miles or more in a week and said so. She smiled indulgently and patted my arm. “Trust me, conserve your energy. You’ll need it!”

She looked longingly up at my truck, which someone had gone to the trouble of adding my new moniker, “Skeeter”, painted in matching silver-white paint on the sleeper hatch. “I wish we had time for another roll in the hay… but no, that would just tire you out. You need to be ready to go at any time to be a Big Dick’s driver! Here, sweetie, let me just give you a proper send-off.”

So saying, she dropped to her knees on the tarmac in front of me and unzipped my pants, quickly and expertly fishing my limp cock out the open fly. Just as expertly she took me into her mouth and soon had me hard and throbbing, my cock standing at attention. It was really starting to feel good when she suddenly stopped and stood up, leaving me standing there in the sunshine with my cock like a fleshy flagpole in the breeze, missing only a flag. There was no way I could get it back in my pants in this condition!

She grinned at me with slick, wet lips. “Okay, climb in and I’ll get your picture in your new truck for our bulletin board!” She held up her cell phone, which I’d had no idea she’d even had on her. I'm not sure where she’d had it tucked away, but I know the first place I’d have looked if I was searching for it.

I was still trying to fit myself back into my pants, but she insisted I ignore my condition and climb into the truck, which I finally did. As soon as I settled into the driver’s seat, my right hand on the wheel, she said, “Smile!”, and as soon as I glanced her way, snapped a picture… of me sitting there, door open, with my dick standing up tall and proud from my lap!

I was appalled! “What are you doing? You can’t use that. Here, let me get situated and you can take a better one.” I was working on getting tucked away and presentable without doing serious zipper damage to my tender bits - with only marginal success- but she just laughed at my chagrin.

“No, this is perfect.” She held up her phone for me to see. It was not perfect; in fact, it was obscene. The truck – what you could see of it – looked great. I – what you could see of me, which was too much – looked horny. Very visibly horny, my cock rigid and thick and standing tall.

“Stella, delete that! You can’t put that on the bulletin board.”

She just laughed again. “You haven’t seen our bulletin board. You’ll look great up there among all the other glorious hunks of manhood. Check out the customer lounge next time you’re here at the terminal and see for yourself. It’s one of our most effective marketing tools.”

“Our customer lounge?” I asked weakly.

“Yup, just down the hall from reception. Very plush.” That subject apparently dismissed with no answer to my concerns, she went on, “Okay, in Simpsonville you’re going to be stopping at Carter’s Candy Company. Ask for Candy.”

“I’m not a big candy fan, thanks. I prefer salty snacks, like pretzels.”

She giggled. “Candy is the owner, silly! Well, technically she’s the owner’s wife, but she’s the one you’ll want to see. And oh boy, will they be happy to see you! Get going, and drive careful. Call if you have any questions, and I’ll send you the info on the second stop on your Qualcomm.” She reached in and groped me, sighing longingly. “Lucky Candy! Bye-bye, sweetie, have a good trip and welcome to Big Dick’s.”

I watched her ass sway in her short, tight skirt as she walked away, her high heels accentuating the swing of her plush bottom and clacking rhythmically on the pavement until she disappeared into the building. I fired up my truck, enjoying the low rumble and vibration of the powerful diesel through the cab. I relished the sense of power for a moment, and then climbed down and inspected the truck and trailer as it warmed up and brought pressures and temperatures up to operating levels, finding everything in surprisingly good shape. Such is not always the case with smaller companies – or even larger companies, for that matter.

I rolled off the lot and was soon out on the open road, more impressed all the time by the way the big old rig rode and handled. Obviously, it had been lovingly cared for. This was one of the things I loved most about driving a truck, cruising across the open countryside on a clear day in a great truck, master of my own domain and on top of the world. There was a little chatter on the CB radio and my Qualcomm pestered me about a few minor things, but I was able to tune it out, dial up classic country on my satellite radio and enjoy both Merle Haggard and the ride, and before I knew it I’d gobbled up the 200 miles and was rolling into Simpsonville.

I followed my Garmin to Carter’s Candy Company’s address, although in such a tiny town I’d have found it easily on my own. It was a fairly small factory, and once I’d checked in and found out which of the three docks they wanted my trailer at, I backed in, leaving the doors open for them to unload the delivery. I figured with only a few pallets for them I’d be back on the road in no time. I can be so naïve…

Wandering into the warehouse I found the forklift driver that had watched me back in, a rather dour, stout fellow, and asked where I might find a restroom, to which he replied, “You’re not Steve.”

I nodded. “Thank you, I’m fully aware of that. What I’m not aware of is where your restroom is.”

“Steve always does this delivery.”

“I see. Well, when Steve comes here does he ever have to piss?”

He nodded suspiciously. “Sometimes, yeah.”

“Okay, and where would he go to do that?”

“The restroom, of course.”

“Naturally… thank you.” I couldn’t decide whether to accept that I was apparently trapped in a low-budget remake of "Waiting for Godot", itself a low-budget affair long on absurdity but short on fanfare, or if it might simply be more satisfying to punch him in the mouth. I sighed. “So, are you Vladimir or Estragon?”

“I’m Ralph. I think Estragon is in charge of corn syrup. I just drive a forklift.” It was apparent that my reference to Beckett’s lead characters had gone over his head without ruffling a hair.

I stared at him, not sure if he was serious, merely yanking my chain, or a complete imbecile. “Uh-huh. About that restroom, Ralph…”

“Why aren’t you Steve?”

I settled on imbecile. “Mostly because my parents named me Keith, I suppose. Look, Ralph, one of us drank a fair amount of coffee this morning, and the other one of us is about to get his shoes pissed in. Did you drink a lot of coffee this morning?”

“Nope, can’t stand the stuff.”

I reached for my zipper. “Fair enough; how do you feel about wet feet?”

He danced backward with alacrity, as well as with considerably more agility that I would have given him credit for. “Down that way, on the right!” He was pointing toward the hallway behind me. Having realized by now that Godot would be a no-show I turned to leave, in some need of that restroom. He yelled after me, “Hey, you’re gonna want Candy!”

I waved over my shoulder. “No thanks, I had some peanuts on the way here.”

“No, not that candy; the boss Candy. And she’s gonna wanna know why you’re not Steve!”

I sighed again and turned to face him, my bladder becoming more insistent by the second. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where to find her without going through the second act of the play?”

He frowned, clearly puzzled. “Huh?”

“Candy. Where would I find her?”

“Oh. In her office, of course.”

“Why didn’t I think of that?” I wasn’t sure which was going to blow first, my aorta or my bladder. I took a deep, calming breath, which helped not at all. “Never mind, I’ll find her on my own. Get back to work, Ralph; I want out of this loony bin as soon as possible.”

I found the restroom easily and breathed a sigh of relief as I emptied my tank, washed my hands, and set off in search of Candy. The female boss kind, not the sugar-filled kind. I found a small reception area fairly easily, but the receptionist’s desk was vacant. Behind it and off to the right a large, ornate wooden door stood slightly ajar. I crossed and peered into the office beyond, and upon spotting a shapely brunette behind a massive desk, knocked on the door.

She looked up, peering at me over the top of a pair of heavy, horn-rimmed glasses. “Yes?”

“Sorry to interrupt. I’m looking for Candy.”

“There’s a vending machine in the employee lounge.”

“No, not that kind of candy. The boss-lady Candy.” Sheesh! Now I was the one correcting people. This was rapidly proceeding from ridiculous to sublime.

She smiled, showing perfect white teeth. “Oh… well, in that case, you’ve found her. Who are you?”

“I’m Keith.” She waited, apparently expecting more information than she’d actually requested. Just when I thought I was starting to get the hang of things! “I’m your driver from Big Dick’s, making your weekly delivery.”

“You’re not Steve.”

“Thank you. That’s been brought to my attention.” These people seemed to have a bit of a Steve-fixation. I went on, cottoning to the fact that Candy could apparently process more complex thoughts than Ralph had seemed capable of. “Steve got transferred to a different route. I’m your new driver.”

Her eyebrows rose becomingly. She was really a very beautiful, sexy woman, and my eyes had sent that message to my brain, which had forwarded it to my body, which was beginning to respond accordingly. She smiled again, biting her lower lip in a very flirtatious way. “Oh really? How new?”

“Brand new – you’re my very first delivery.”

She grinned salaciously as she leaned back in her huge leather desk chair. “Oh my! I’m going to owe Stella big-time for this one.” She rose and came around her desk. My first impression had been spot-on; this babe was a knockout! Perfect figure, slender but busty, maybe five-foot-six with brilliant blue eyes and long, shimmering brown hair, and wearing a conservative business suit which on her was anything but conservative, the tight skirt accentuating a fine pair of legs; she definitely pushed all my buttons! Even the heavy glasses with their dark frames looked very sexy on her cute little nose.

I muttered, “Wow!”

She stopped. “What?”

“Sorry. I said ‘wow’, as in, ‘Wow, you’re very beautiful’.”

She smiled and moved closer. “Thank you! You’re not bad yourself.”

“Uh… thanks.” She began to circle me, sort of like a lioness toying with its prey. Being eaten by this one wouldn’t be all bad, I don’t think. She paused behind me, and I was surprised when she reached out and caressed my ass. I didn’t say anything until she pinched me… hard! “Oww! Hey!”

She laughed. “Nice ass, Keith, very muscular.”

“Thanks. Yours is very nice as well.”

She stopped directly in front of me, so close that her breasts touched my chest… which, come to think of it and given the size of her boobs, was not really all that close. She looked up at me. “What a gentleman! Thanks for the compliment.”

She then reached down and squeezed my crotch, running her hand down the ridge of my rapidly-swelling cock where it was tucked down my right thigh, stroking my length. I was proud of myself for sort of anticipating the move and not jumping when she grabbed my genitalia. She practically purred. “Mmm, nice rack, Keith!”

“Umm, again, thank you.”I looked down at her bodacious breasts, nipples now visibly jutting out. “And again, yours is very nice too.”

She laughed. “Thanks – and you can touch them, you know.”

“Seriously?”

She looked up at me again, apparently surprised as she peered over the top of her glasses, trying to ascertain whether or not I was serious. “Of course! Didn’t they tell you anything about this job?”

I shrugged, raising one hand to cup one of those fine breasts… no bra! It was magnificent. “Not really. Just that it pays well, and that I’d like it – oh, and Steve said something about getting my balls sucked.”

She giggled. “We can arrange that. Here’s a hint for you, Keith; the company is called ‘Big Dick’s Trucking Service’, with the emphasis on the word ‘service’. Does that tell you anything?”

I nodded. “Well…” I flicked her hard nipple with my thumb, earning a small gasp of pleasure “… I’m starting to get the feeling that there’s more to this job than driving a truck.”

She laughed again. “Very good! And that’s with most of your blood supply tied up in this amazing cock – I’ll bet that with full blood flow to your brain you’re practically a genius.” As she spoke she was working my zipper down and unfastening my belt. I was soon standing in front of her with my pants and underwear around my knees and my cock standing at attention as she looked at it. I seemed to be spending an inordinate amount of time lately half-dressed in business offices while having my dick examined!

She wrapped her hand around me and began to slowly stroke my cock. “Very, very, nice. I don’t think we’re going to miss Steve after all.” I deftly unbuttoned her blouse and opened the front, allowing her beautiful boobs to break free.

As I fondled them and toyed with her perfect pink nipples she bent forward and took the head of my cock in her mouth. It felt amazing, a perfect, warm, wet suction, and I watched her for a moment before saying, “Why do you suppose Stella and Big Dick didn’t just tell me about this? I mean, it’s not like having a beautiful woman like you suck their cock is going to scare a lot of guys off, is it?”

She stopped sucking and looked up at me. I should have known better than to ask her a question while her mouth was otherwise occupied! “Who?”

“You.”

“No, not me. Who didn’t tell you about me?”

“Stella?”

“No, the other one.”

“Big Dick?”

“Yeah, that one. You've seen Big Dick? Last I heard he was in Tahiti making sure all the native girls walked bow-legged.”

I shook my head. “No, he was in the office. Mountain of a guy, head like a giant cannonball, hung like a Clydesdale – you know, Stella’s husband, The Chief.”

She laughed… again. “That’s not Big Dick, that’s Larry! He bought the company from Big Dick five years ago when Dick retired. He almost changed the name of it to 'Large Larry’s Trucking Service' until Stella talked him out of it. She thought Big Dick’s had the name-recognition and also sent the right message.”

“Smart lady.”

“Yeah, she’s the brains of the outfit.”

“That’s a frightening thought, considering that my livelihood depends on it.”

Candy shook her head. “Don’t underestimate her just because she has that little girl voice… and that blonde hair… and huge boobs… and is a nymphomaniac… and a total slut. She’s really very smart.”

“I’m sure.”

“Hey! Stereotypes! What did you think when you found out my name was Candy?”

“Well, there was sort of a misunderstanding about that – a couple times now, actually – but once I found out it was a person I really didn’t think much about it, per se.”

“And what do you think now that we’ve met?”

I looked at her big, perfect boobs and thought about her name. “Ummm, Milky Way?”

She laughed. “You’re cute.”

“Hey, if you’d had one more I’d have said, Three Musketeers!”

Still laughing, she said, “Let me get my husband in here, I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

“Your husband?”

She nodded. “Yup. You said you wanted your balls sucked, right?”

“No, I said Steve mentioned that. I didn’t exactly express any negative feelings about the idea, though.”

“Mmm-hmm. Let me get Harold.”

I sighed. “Let me guess – I’m not supposed to pull up my pants or stow my dick away.”

She touched her nose and pointed at me. “You’re starting to get the hang of this, Keith.”

She picked up the phone and touched a button. “Harold, come to my office please.” She paused, then went on, “Yes, now. It will be worth your trouble, honey, I promise.” She put the phone back on the cradle and returned to me, immediately grabbing my cock and beginning to stroke it. Knowing her hubby would be popping in any minute it seemed a little bit odd, but I mentally shrugged and went along. The customer knows best, as they say.

With that thought in mind, and strictly in pursuit of good customer service, I reached down and slid my hand up her leg to return the favor. She willingly widened her stance, and when I found her pussy, I found her pussy; there were no panties to impede my progress, and her smooth, hair-free lips were soft, warm and moist. My cock throbbed and further stiffened in her hand.

Moments later a small, balding, bespectacled man of perhaps fifty walked in, closing the door behind him. He stopped and looked at me, then at Candy, and then at her hand stroking my hugely engorged cock, then at my dangling nutsack, then at her exposed breasts, and then, finally, at my hand under his wife’s skirt as my fingers diddled her slippery bits. He didn’t seem terribly upset.

His eyes finally made their way back to my face. “Who are you?”

“I’m your new driver from Big Dick’s.”

“You’re not Steve.”

“No, I know. I’m Keith, your new driver, like I said.” I looked at Candy. “Why does everyone keep telling me I’m not Steve?”

“Well, you’re not.”

“Valid point, but what I meant…”

She cut me off mid-sentence. “Get busy, Harold, Keith has other deliveries to make.”

He nodded and smiled, and then dropped to his knees in front of me and started sucking my cock! I was shocked speechless, but before I could find my tongue (ironic, since I knew exactly where Harold’s was) Candy tapped him on his shiny dome. “Not him, sweetheart, me. Keith is obviously rarin’ to go, and I’ll make sure he stays that way while you finish getting me ready.”

He let me slip from his mouth, looking properly chagrined. “Oh, of course! What was I thinking?”

She returned to her impressive desk chair, sprawling back in it like a queen on her throne, and Harold eagerly dropped between her legs. She again knocked on his noggin, and when he looked up at her said, “Wouldn’t you like to get comfortable first?”

He laughed, almost giddy with enthusiasm. “Oh, of course! I’m so forgetful when I get excited!” He stood up and became a blur, setting new speed records getting out of his clothes. Entirely naked, he was a pale, doughy little guy with a small pot belly and a tiny, slender little three-inch penis standing proudly at attention.

Candy saw the look on my face – probably one of pity – and chided me, “Don’t feel bad for him, Keith; it’s inversely proportional to the size of his bank account.”

“Ah!” It was all I could think of to say; not exactly profound, but entirely safe. Harold apparently could not have cared less, as he was once again on his knees between her legs, lapping eagerly at her pussy as she held his head in place, thrusting herself against his lips.

Candy motioned me over, and I removed my own pants and shoes with speed that might have rivaled Harold’s and crossed to her, whereupon she immediately took me back into her mouth and began to fondle my balls with her free hand.

We stayed like that for a few minutes, me alternating between watching her suck my cock and Harold lick her pussy as I thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. Candy was almost as talented in the blowjob arena as Stella, and it was feeling real good! Also, I was beginning to get a clue as to what the “benefits” of working for Big Dick’s might be, and to understand why everyone had been so coy about it.

Candy seemed to be the one setting the agenda, showing us who was boss, and when she tapped on his cranium for the third time Harold seemed to know what to do without being told. He stood and crossed to the sofa against the wall to the left of the desk and lay down on his back; Candy gave my dick a final suck and my balls a final squeeze and followed him over there, putting herself in a kneeling position over his face before leaning forward onto all-fours.

She looked at me. “You’re on, big boy.”

It seemed apparent that I was to fuck her doggy-style, which would put my nether regions right above Harold’s head, where my balls would undoubtedly flop against his face as I screwed his wife. I remembered Steve’s comment about not caring who sucked on my balls and moved in. As I carefully straddled him and aligned myself with her wet, slippery pussy, Harold grabbed my cock and guided it into his wife; that was something new – not unpleasant, just new.

She was tight and hot and felt very good on my engorged cock, and as I began a slow thrusting motion he did indeed begin to lick and suck on my balls; this was a day for firsts, apparently, but I resolved to go with the flow and just enjoy. It helped that this also was not at all unpleasant, truth be told; in fact, it felt pretty damn good!

I felt a little guilty about taking advantage of Harold by screwing his wife while he sucked on my nuts, and thought about maybe, at least, giving him a reach-back to jerk his cock for him, but when I looked over my shoulder I saw that he had that little situation well in hand, furiously masturbating as he enjoyed his front-row seat and mouthful of ballsack.

Somewhat relieved, I instead leaned forward over Candy’s back and reached around her sides to play with her magnificent titties as I continued to thrust into her. Even without having had the experience, I was very sure that they felt much nicer in my hands than his stiff little dick would have. Not that I would have ignored him if he hadn’t already seen to himself; it is all about customer service, after all, and apparently Harold was the one with the money.

I was sort of beginning to think, as Harold sucked my right testicle into his mouth, that maybe this job could become a fine long-term career after all!

Published 
Written by Stormdog
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