Bumpy Roads Are Best
written by:
Naughty Miranda

I awoke with a brain-jarring crick in my neck, and it took a moment for my foggy mind to remember where I was. The swish of the windshield wipers, the muffled roar of the wheels on wet highway, I-70 unfolding like an accordion before us....

"How long was I asleep?"

"A couple of hours." Brendan grinned. "We're just coming up to Colby."

"So we are in Kansas, Toto." I stretched, then winced as my neck kicked out a sharp jab of pain. "How do you sleep in this thing?"

"I don't. That's what motels are for."

"I wish you'd warned me." I'd always imagined the cabs on these long distance lorries to be as huge on the inside as they looked from the outside. Now that I was actually riding in one, though, I wasn't so sure. Still, I couldn't argue with the view from here, towering so high above the rest of the traffic that even the vans looked like toys.

I glanced at the dashboard clock. It was nearly 11; if Brendan kept to the schedule he'd explained when he first rescued me from a cold, miserable evening trying to hitch a ride out of Colorado Springs, we'd probably be halfway across Kansas in another three hours, for a few hours sleep, a shower and some breakfast before hitting the road again.

"Do you do this run often?"

"Denver to New York and back again, twice a month for the past four years. I could probably do it in my sleep." He smiled. "But don't worry, I won't. Night-time's my favorite time to drive. Not so many idiots on the road."

I rubbed my still nagging neck. "You must think I'm lousy company, falling asleep like that."

"Nah. I don't usually even stop for hikers... you never know what you're going to end up with. But, hey... if you'd stood on that on-ramp any longer, your sign would have washed away completely." As it was, when he first saw me waiting there, all he could make out on the cardboard sign I was holding were the first few letters of my destination, before the words slipped into a blur of ink. "And I figured, well, if you're heading to Jersey, and I'm going through it, it'd be rude not to pick you up." He glanced over as I continued massaging my neck. "You okay?"

"Yeah. I think I just slept funny."

We drove in silence for a while, the midnight miles flashing past. Again and again I felt myself drifting, but the moment my head began to lean towards the window, a sharp jolt of pain shot up my neck. "Ouch."

"If you want to lie down for a bit," Brendan said, "you can. It might be a bit of a squash, but at least you could keep your neck straight." With my eyes, I measured the cushioned distance between the passenger door and the driver's seat. If I folded my legs... "You don't mind?"

"Be my guest."

The top of my head pressing against his left leg, I lay on my side and closed my eyes. "You okay down there?"

"It is a bit of a squeeze," I smiled.

He shifted over a little. "Is that better? Or if you want to use my lap as a pillow...."

Again - "you don't mind?" I shifted a little and lay my cheek on his thigh. "I'm not in your way?"

"Not at all. I'll wake you when we get to Hays."

Lulled by the sound of the engine, I slept, waking only as the lorry slowed slightly. Opening an eye, I sought out the clock... 1 am. Still a couple of hours to go. Probably some late night traffic or something. Not moving, I lay there thinking - how odd it seemed, riding through the night like this, my head nestling on a stranger's lap.

But this whole week had been peculiar, trekking out for a romantic skiing trip with my supposed college sweetheart, only to discover three days into the trip that he was screwing at least two other women at the lodge. Of course I walked out on him; and, of course it would have been a lot simpler if I'd just rented a car, driven up to Denver, then paid for a flight home with my credit card.

But fuck that, I was on vacation, and I intended to enjoy it. So, a couple of days on my own in town, and then - having maxed out my credit card at the hotel -hitch-hiking home. In the days, I hasten to add, when it was still safe for a single girl in her early 20s to hitch-hike. I don't think I'd be so quick to do it today - and, as I lay there, half asleep, I had the horrible, sudden realization that maybe I shouldn't have been so quick to do it then, either. For it wasn't only the coarse weave of his jeans that was pressing into my cheek. Oh my God, he had an erection.

My first thought was panic... how could I be so stupid, jumping into a lorry, snuggling up with the driver.... But then a more rational part of my mind took control. He'd not said anything creepy, he'd not done anything weird. It was my idea to lie down, it was my choice to use him as a pillow.

Brendan couldn't help it if... I remembered riding on the high school bus, how my girlfriends and I would sit at the front, watching as the boys trouped off, to see who was holding their bag... or their hands... over the tell-tale bulge at the front of their trousers. It was just something that happened to guys; sit them on a moving vehicle, place something heavy on their lap - a satchel, a pile of books, a girl's head - and, sooner or later, something would stir. I tried to imagine how Brendan himself must feel; he was probably willing his hard-on to subside, terrified that I might wake up and find a rock-solid stiffie pushing against the side of my face.

I closed my eyes, but the thought of what lay beneath my cheek was locked inside my mind now, and cemented itself even deeper, every time the wheels went over a bump and I felt it twitch or shift a little beneath me. And then another thought. With the exception of the moron I'd been dating for the last six months, who was probably still up to his neck in pussy right now, how long was it since I was last this close... this incredibly close... to a decent-sized penis? So close I could almost smell its musky odor; so close I could almost taste it....

My heart was beating so loud that I was sure Brendan would hear it above the engine, but he showed no sign that he even knew I was awake. Occasionally he wriggled a little in his seat, and his prick shifted with him, almost as if it had a mind of its own, and didn't want to lose its place. And I was a little shocked to find myself hoping that it wouldn't.

I pictured Brendan in my mind. Not a bad-looking guy - nothing you'd chase down the street on first sight, but cute in an everyday kind of way. Nicely spoken, smart, thoughtful, probably reliable. Give him a job where he'd be home every night, and he'd make someone a great husband one day.

Still feigning sleep, I shifted a little, moving my head to give his dick a little more leeway. I was rewarded with another twitch and, bolder now, I moved my left arm, so that I could cradle my cheek on my hand... palm down, of course. My hand lay across his left thigh; my fingers just resting on his cock. Lightly, I pressed down with my fingertips, trying to measure his thickness. Not bad, not bad at all.

I didn't want to move too fast; I was still meant to be asleep, after all. But I was wondering what thoughts were going through Brendan's mind. It was 1.25. I determined not to move again for 10 minutes, but it was difficult to resist. The heat was rising from his lap, and now my nostrils really had picked up his scent. My fingertips squeezed him again and, this time, I heard him give a sharp gasp. When he looked down at me, though, my eyes remained closed, my face the impassive innocence of a happy sleeper.

Again I lay stock still, waiting for ten minutes to pass. Again my resolve cracked after just four or five. I'd teased boys before, of course I had. But never this deliberately, this delightfully. I shifted my position, raising my head a little, then laying it down again. If I'd got my bearings right... yes. The tip of his dick was pushing into my cheek now, and I could half feel, half sense the dribble of pre-cum that was soaking into the fabric of his pants.

Brendan, too, now seemed finally aware of what was going on, and one hand dropped from the steering wheel to brush my hair lightly. I responded with another gentle squeeze, then let my fingers slide a little, to touch his balls. Brendan didn't speak, but started stroking the side of my face, very gently.

I slid my finger back up his shaft, tracing the line of his fly. A zip. Raising my head slightly, I sought out the tab and unlocked his trousers - his cock leaped out almost comically, relishing its sudden freedom and pressing hot and naked against my chin. I paused for a moment, breathing in his sharp scent and feeling a welcoming pulse in response. Then my tongue flicked out to greet His Majesty, wrapping around the swollen head and testing his juiciness. He was delicious.

Slowly my lips closed over the very tip, suckling gently before I drew a little more of him in, mere fractions at a time, until at last I held the hot head enclosed in my mouth. I wished there was more light in the cab than the faint glow of the dashboard instruments, and the muted streetlights that rushed past us; I wanted to finally look at the shaft I'd spent the last 45 minutes blindly toying with, admire its color, its size, its unbelievable hardness.

I couldn't, so my eyes settled on the odometer instead. I remembered years ago, going down on my boyfriend of the time and, once it was all over, thrilling as he told me I'd just given him the greatest ten minutes of his life. Brendan, I determined, was going to get the best ten miles of his life. And then some.

I resolved to take things very slowly. I didn't want to drive him crazy, not while he was driving us. But he had his big rig and now I had mine. He was huge in my mouth but, with every passing minute... or mile... I seemed to be able to take more of him in, and crave even more, sucking him deeper and deeper. I relaxed to the rhythm of the road, the vibration of the engine, the slight rocking sensation, the occasional bump that you probably wouldn't even notice if you were sitting upright, but which filled my entire body with a thrill that I'd never imagined before, a glorious flash of pleasure that to traveled an electric highway from my clitoris to my tongue, as it pushed him ever further into my mouth.

My lips brushed his pubic hair, the tip of my nose was nudging into his balls, and I held him there for a moment. Then my lips slipped slowly back up his cock, pausing every so often to let my teeth graze his shaft. Holding him between two fingers, I licked at him, shifted slightly to suck lightly on his scrotum, and then returned to his prick, my fingers and thumb rubbing as I engulfed it once again, my tongue languorously caressing his length.

My hand caressed his balls, rolling them beneath my fingers as I rotated his scrotum with my palm, pulling at them as my head fucked him. I bit down then and, hearing him moan a little, allowed my teeth to roam free, gently closing up and down his cock, enjoying the sensation of his flesh throbbing inside my mouth. Brendan's hands were back on the steering wheel, but his breath was coming in ever-shorter, sharper pants and, as my lips closed over the ridge of his glans once more, to suck harder than I'd done before, I heard him groan lightly, as the truck slowed and moved onto the hard shoulder.

He shut the engine off just in time. "I'm going to cum...." I answered him with a moan that I hadn't even known was there, the sound, I thought later, of a lover so completely lost in her partner's pleasure that I was experiencing every thrill that he felt. He tensed, shuddered... and then the most incredible explosion of release, his hot cream flooding thick into my mouth. I raised my head to swallow, then sank down again, as the spurting cum subsided, to lap it all up with my tongue, determined to devour every last delicious drop, pursuing the dribbles down his shaft. Then, as he began to soften, I sat up and kissed him on the cheek.

He turned to look at my, his eyes betraying the fact that he was completely lost for words. "Wow..." he spluttered. "That was amazing."

"It was, wasn't it?" I laughed. "And it only took..." I glanced down at the odometer... "42 miles. Next time, let's go for a nice round 50."

"There'll be a next time?"

"You bet there'll be a next time. Now, how long till we get to that motel? After all that excitement, there's something I need you to do for me...."

"What?" he asked, boyishly breathless. "Because if you need it that bad...." We were moving again, and a passing sign advertised a motel less than five miles away. "I need it," I told him and he changed lanes, slowing to take the curve off the highway and then pulling into the parking lot of a neon-lit motel. As he switched the engine off, he kissed me, one hand straying to my breast and squeezing, seeking the nipple through my sweater and rubbing it gently with his thumb. "Come on," he said. "Let's check in."

The room was as brightly lit as only a cheap motel can be, but it was clean and tidy and, after a few moments spent checking the mini-bar and nervously chattering, we fell onto the bed, tugging at one another's clothing, stripping them away until we were both in our underpants alone. His hands clasped my ass, hoisting me until I rested on my arms and shoulders alone, with my body arcing up his chest and my pussy just inches from his face. He leaned forward and kissed it through my panties, then let his thick, heavy tongue lap me through the damp cloth.

"Let's get rid of them," I urged, as a coarse tingle jangled my nerve-ends; "not yet," he replied. "I rather like having them here." He licked me again, a broad caress that made me gasp aloud, before one finger pulled aside the gusset and I felt his tongue against my scalding flesh, swirling into the folds as though he was seeking even greater treasures. His breath felt exquisite, cooling me even as I grew hotter, and I cautiously moved one arm, reaching for his body as I prayed I wouldn't over-balance.

My hand clasped his knee, as his tongue tipped my clitoris; I heard myself gasp "yes" as it did so and, taking the hint, Brendan concentrated all his energies there... or almost all of them. The first wave of an almighty orgasm was already building deep inside me, when he suddenly paused; waited for the moment to pass, then sent his lips and tongue back into action. My admiration for him soared another notch - not many men are quite so confident that they'll deliberately tease a girl like that, but I wasn't complaining. It just meant the next one...

Three times he did it, bringing me to the very precipice of ecstasy, then drawing me back at the point of no return; as he lowered my legs on either side of his hips, kissed my belly and then began inching up my sweat-soaked flesh, I was half-cursing, half-loving him, my entire body blazing for the release he'd held back. Clutching his hair as he slowly moved up me, I wrapped my legs around his waist and, with all my strength rolled him over; then I clasped his wrists in my hands and gazed down into his face. "So, you think that's funny, do you?"

He smiled. "I didn't hear any complaints."

"That's because I've not given you the chance," I warned him, as I kissed him hard, deliberately sinking my teeth into his lower lip and biting, before slipping my tongue into his mouth. Releasing one wrist, I reached between my legs and felt for his penis through his jockeys; hot and hard, it was nudging my ass, and I squeezed the bulb between two fingers. "Let's see how you like it." In truth, I was so desperate to cum that the last thing I wanted was to play games with him, but hey - I had a point to make. Raising myself a little, admiring the wet patch my loins left on his stomach, I shifted down to crouch above his legs, my bare ass pointing upwards as I peeled his pants down to reveal his equipment, and placed two fingers round the base of his cock.

Gently, I blew on the end; the sticky pre-cum was thick on my fingertips, and I knew precisely how my breath would feel; he'd done it to me, after all. He twitched rewardingly, and I began to gently jerk him, those same two fingers at the base of his cock, admiring the sheer weight of it, wondering just how small my hands would look as they wrestled with his girth. Short strokes, but rough ones; my finger tips were pressing into the soft flesh, massaging the hardness that lay at its core; I held my other hand just above the head, so that the slightest movement jarred his penis against it.

He was breathing hard; angling his shaft, I touched my tongue to the very tip, then reached out my hand for the glass of water that lay beside the bed. Taking a mouthful, cold in my dry mouth, I swallowed and then closed my mouth over him. He groaned out loud and, for a moment, I wished my bottle of mouthwash was handy... but maybe not. I've known menthol make men cum within moments of contact, and that was not the idea.

Holding the very tip of his penis tight between my lips, I lay one hand on his hip, while the other slowly raked across his stomach, and began, very slowly, to fuck him with my mouth. Below me, his hips began to slowly move, trying to capture my rhythm and ride with me; I pressed my hands down harder, to prevent him from moving, and slowed down a little. He relaxed with me, losing himself in the gentle momentum of my mouth, at which point I plunged down to take him in deep, burying him in my throat and holding them there, letting my teeth press into his skin.

Slowly I let him out, my lips dragging against his skin; then, as the rim of his helmet met my front teeth, I dove down again, drawing my cheeks in to suck as I sank. One hand released his hip and cradled his balls, a finger pressing against his ass-hole; again his hips struggled for freedom and this time I let them, writhing against my mouth until... I sat up and quickly and clamped two fingers across the end of his cock, holding them tight as he paused in mid-buck, tensed as he struggled to force out an orgasm against all the odds, and then fell back.

He swore playfully. "You caught me that time, but you won't always be that quick,"

"We'll see about that," I replied, and I shifted my position; catching on quick, he grabbed my ankle and pulled me over him, into a classic 69. His tongue swept unerringly for my clitoris; for a moment, the sensation was so sharp that I could barely reciprocate, and I felt an orgasm of my own welling up as he worked me.

I held his cock tight, wiping its wetness across my lips, savoring the sharp tang of his flavor on my mouth, dipping it onto my tongue between gasps... this time I was going to cum and there was nothing he could do to stop me. My thighs locked on either side of his head, I pressed my pussy into his face and began grinding, at the same time jerking his cock as hard as I could, my hand a blur, desperate for his cum to splash over me as my own juices hit him.

But if I was strong, he was stronger; in a movement that I can't even account for, he whipped me around, rolled me over and slammed his cock between my legs, his body towering above me as he raised himself on both arms, his hips banging furiously against me. It lasted minutes... seconds... suddenly he paused, withdrew almost all the way out of me, and then plunged back in, his hardness preceded by split seconds by a tidal wave of cum blasting into my body, so hard that it seemed to travel all the way through me; if I opened my mouth, it might come pouring out again. But even as that thought hit my brain, so another, even more powerful sensation rushed through me, as my own delayed climax exploded through me, every pore of my skin crackling with an energy that left me exhausted, drained and absolutely unable to move.

My arms fell away from his body; his arms buckled and he collapsed onto my chest, angling his head to graze a nipple with his lips. I shifted slightly. "Just kiss me," I whispered, and he did so, gently, soothingly, lovingly. I felt myself drifting, but one thought was still lodged in my mind.

"Back in the truck, you know I said next time, we'll go for 50 miles?" I asked.

He nodded eagerly.

"I've changed my mind. I think I want to aim for the full 100. You reckon you'll be able to last that long?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out," he replied. "But I warn you, we'll be hitting some pretty bumpy roads."

I remembered the sensations that shook me the last time that happened. "Good," I told him. "My favorite sort."