With another big exhale, I smile while looking at my home. The exterior is cheery. My cottage has a fresh coat of sunny yellow paint which makes it stand out in a good way, and the front yard is small but pretty with lush green grass and red tulips growing in the dirt around my porch. Wind chimes tinkle merrily as I approach the front door, and once I step inside, it’s like I’ve been given a big hug. This is what feels it feels like to be welcomed.
Don’t get me wrong – my place is small, so we’re not talking about a palace. It’s probably no more than 800 square feet, so nothing too extravagant, but it’s perfect for me. The decor is very simple—just a few posters of landscapes hanging along the walls and a couple of antique vases that I picked up from flea markets. A plethora of books are neatly stacked on my shelf, gleaming with their multi-colored spines, and white fluttery curtains frame each window.
Ah, there’s no place like home. I drop my purse down on the coffee table and plop down on the couch, kicking my feet up with a contented sigh. But soon enough, my thoughts drift because what I did at that truck stop last week was crazy. It was just so different from my usual glory hole experience, and yet infinitely better too.
For one, we went all the way. What was I thinking? Generally, it’s strictly oral, and never anything more. But last time, a need overwhelmed me, and before I knew it, I sank my pussy down on that man’s cock! Unprotected too! What the hell? He didn’t even have to ask really. I was doing it on my own and loving every second of it.
But that’s the thing – we went unprotected and I’m shocked at the way I threw caution to the wind that night. I’m usually so safe when it comes to these things. I generally use dental dams when giving oral, and even when I run out of dams, I’ll improvise. I’ve used condoms in the past, or even saran wrap or a plastic baggie when it comes to it because that’s how careful I am. Yet with this man, it wasn’t just unprotected oral. It was unprotected intercourse, and it felt damn good.
But still. It’s crazy because he could be anyone. He could be a disease vector, and hell, he’s probably nervous about STDs too. After all, I’m a female trucker who hooks up with random men during my travels. If he’s smart, he’ll be very afraid and get tested asap.
But all in all, it was the best night of my life. It’s so dirty but after I got back into my truck, I didn’t even bother to clean up. Instead, I high-tailed it out of the parking lot, blowing dust to the wind with my skirt twisted sideways and his seed leaking out of my pussy. It’s so wrong but I rather liked the squishy sensation because it made me feel so naughty and slutty with an unknown man’s come seeping from my sweetest spot. Rancid, right?
Of course, the only bad part about the experience is the fact that I’ll never get to be with that man again. Hell, I don’t even know who that John Doe was. He could have been my grandfather, come to think of it, but I know he wasn’t. Those low moans, not to mention how he kept bucking against the wall, like he was about to break it down. Plus, it’s unlikely my grandfather’s able to get it up at this point, whereas my mystery man was very virile and very, very hard.
I sigh as I rub my eyes, shaking my head with wonder and disbelief. At some point, I’m going to have to try to get that amazing experience out of my head and move on, but how? Time, I suppose. But for now, I have to keep chugging forward.
Maybe a relaxing night in will help me calm down. I’ll go put on my comfiest pair of pajamas, fix myself some snacks, and then tuck myself into bed for the day and watch some movies. That will wipe him from my mind at least temporarily, right?
But just as I get up to head to my bedroom, my cellphone starts bleeping, and I pick it up. It’s my best bud, Vanessa, and I press talk.
“Hey girl,” I say. “What’s up?”
She grins, her round cheeks as cute as a cherub.
“Hey yourself. Remember we have that fundraiser tonight, Ginny. I hope you didn’t forget.”
I stare, my mind spinning.
“What fundraiser?” I ask cautiously.
“The one you promised to go to with me ages ago,” she says. “And you’re not getting out of it so don’t even try!”
“But what is it even for?” I ask, trying not to whine. “You know I just got back from a long road trip.”