• Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Erotic Couplings
  • /
  • An Erotic Trucker's Tale Ch. 01

An Erotic Trucker's Tale Ch. 01

123

This is an EDITED draft and the first chapter of a multi chapter novel. I have many novels in the pipeline so please be patient Thank you taking the time to read this an enjoy.


Jessica pulled into the truck stop in Albany New York at ten thirty. The nighttime temperatures dropped quickly and the roads had become a slick, cold wintry mess. The gentle wispy flurries that had started earlier in the day became heavier snow then formed into a fast moving messy storm of sleet and hail. Vehicles were skidding out all over the road. After a car nearly clipped her before spinning off into the embankment, Jessica decided she had enough.

The young woman knew the weather would only get worse. The brightly lit truck stop seemed a good respite from the highway and was the most logical choice until the weather hopefully cleared in a few hours and she could drive safely to a hotel. She'd been driving all day and desperately needed sleep. Here, at least she could rest a bit.

Earlier that month she took an emergency leave of absence from her full tenured professorship at Boston University. The dean of her department rarely granted such requests from new professors. However the shy middle age man had a major crush on the blonde. She did nothing to encourage his affections though. She was a consummate professional and knew the risks of dating colleagues or worse bosses. The dean tried in his awkward and shy way to ask her out but Jessica politely declined.

After a male professor once told her she looked like Anna Nicole Smith, Jessica worked even harder to disguise her beauty. She had to be taken seriously in the world of academia. After that, Jessica tied her long blonde hair into a severe matronly bun and opted for thick, unfashionable glasses instead of contact lenses. She wore almost no makeup. Her outfits were either unflattering pantsuits or long skirts and high collars blouses.

Jessica remained aloof from her peers because she knew they talked about her all time behind her back. The gossip was unfounded and never true but they squawked just the same.

Male peers hit on her constantly and would fawn over her. The female professors were jealous of all the attention she got and they tried to exclude her when they'd socialize outside of work.

These women resented her even more because the dean had a thing for her. The dowdy, gray haired middle age female peers gave her insulting nicknames like "Professor Barbie Doll" and the "Deans Penthouse Pet." They smeared her character viciously and it hurt like hell. She was ostracized because of her beauty and nothing more.

Jessica's credentials were impressive to say the least. She graduated Summa Cum Laude from Columbia University and maintained a 4.0 throughout her entire four years as an undergrad. She continued in her academic excellence through grad school and her doctoral program. After completing her doctoral thesis she was offered a position at BU, her alma mater.

The professors all snickered when they found out Jessica was offered such a highly coveted position. They figured she got the job because the dean had a crush on her since she was a student. It never occurred to them that she was most qualified candidate and she was.

Because of her looks Jessica, dealt with prejudice and ridicule her entire life. She thought if she cloistered herself in a university she'd be sheltered from ignorance but alas, people were primitive at the core and the world of academia wasn't much different from the outside world. Her IQ was probably higher than anyone employed at the university but people only saw a tall beautiful blonde with long legs and big tits, end of story. Her disillusionment was palatable and left her raw to the soul. It was time to rethink her life.

Jessica was born, raised and cultured in Boston. She once thought the city top notch but the place had become too ridged and stifling and filled to the brim with smug intellectual snobs. It just wasn't her scene anymore

The biggest blow of all came after she found out her husband, also a professor, was screwing a twenty year old cooed behind her back. Steven chased after her when she was a twenty two year old graduate student. He liked his girls really young. So she should've known he'd do it again. Steven wasn't married when they were screwing around though. Jessica wouldn't do that to another woman. Her divorce was finalized just last week. She was still not right in the head after that.

People didn't get why Steven cheated on his stunning, classy wife. Sure the little cunt whoring around with him had perky tits and a perfect nose job but Jessica was a classic, ethereal beauty. Not pretty like a blank cookie cutter china doll but drop dead gorgeous. A face people would marvel at. She'd looked liked she'd stepped out of a painted masterpiece.

Their friends asked her why Steven would choose that stupid twat over her? Youthful exuberance and a filthy body Steven could fuck until dawn. That's why. Oh, and a bubbly personality! Jessica was anything but bubbly but she'd been in love with him and was completely devoted and faithful.

There was yet another thing her husband wickedly cheated her out of, a baby. She desperately wanted a child. They'd been trying for many months before Jessica found out about his 'slut on the side,' Tricia. All Steven left her with though was an astronomical mortgage payment on their brownstone and a pile of legal bills.

'Hope she's worth it and I hope she takes you for all you're worth. He's your problem now, little bitch.' Jessica would mutter to no one but her pain and anger. Late at night she'd lie awake thinking about the man she'd thought she'd spend the rest of her life with fucking another woman.

The hurt he caused her was agonizing. She thought people who ran away from their problems were weak. Well she'd taken a huge choking dose of her own medicine! She was running away. Like a hurt, errant child, she'd disappear into the heart of America where no one could easily find her.

Bitter? Her? Not any more. Bitter was so yesterday! She was empowered. Empowered enough to rent out her Boston Back Bay brownstone to a middle-aged married couple and put her beloved Audi A8 in long-term storage.

Jessica bid a fond farewell to her friends telling them she was off to become a wandering gypsy. Now a single woman, she didn't have anyone to tell her what to do, no commitments, schedules, nada. She'd write about her travels for the book she'd dreamed about writing. This wasn't running away from her problems, she decided, she was running towards a dream.

Jessica wanted to write about big rig truck drivers. These denizens of the open road were always overworked. They left their families for weeks at a time. Many people complained that truckers were rude road hogs but when these same people needed food, cars or pretty much anything else you could name, truckers were their lifelines to commerce.

She had a lot compassion for this sub culture of American society after she heard an NPR radio program about the lonely life of long haul truckers. After that she was compelled to dig deeper into their solitary lives and write their story from their perspective.

A long haul trucker's workplace was the entire country. Nothing boxed them in except for the trailers that traveled behind them. They had a whole network and social infrastructure that ran the gamut across America.

For the last few weeks while researching the subject Jessica had her nose stuck in books and a computer screen. This approach was too clinical though. In order to add a breath of life and reality into her story she had to travel alongside an actual road warrior. A seasoned road gypsy who knew the lay of the land and would be willing to let her experience the real nitty-gritty of a trucker's life.

In many ways, she envied them. No real boss, no co-workers and all the peace, quite and solitude an introvert's soul could ask for. That was her Nirvana. Was it an average truckers heaven too? The only way to find out was to spend a significant amount of time with a driver. Break into their somewhat secretive world. Her friends would think this idea was ludicrous and even dangerous. For this reason she told no one her real plan.

Earlier that day, Jessica packed two duffle bags, picked up her rental car, packed a small cooler and gave a set of keys to the new tenants. Today began her journey. While she drove, Jessica laid out her plans to attach herself to a trucker. Boston was in her taillights and she didn't look back.

The city was a long way off but she'd hoped to get even further away from its reaching grasp. She pressed forward even when the flurries turned to wet, heavy snow. Jessica made good time until the real heavy precipitation blew in.

****

So, here she was on a cold winter night in Albany, New York at a brightly lit truck stop. Garish bold letters set in bright neon lights brazenly announced the rest areas accoutrements. "24 Hour Diner! Hot Showers! Truckers Lounge!" All spelled out in gaseous colors of green, red and blue. These stops were a trucker's temporary home away from home. A place to eat, shower, commiserate and socialize. She was eager to find out a lot more about this lifestyle hopefully sooner than later.

Jessica parked her white rental car. She was in awe when she stepped out and saw the blacktop was covered with big rigs. There had to be at least fifty. The whole masculine environment gave her a weird intimidating vibe.

Nearly every man stared at her when she walked into the truck stops restaurant. Jessica felt uneasy knowing dozens of eyes were leering at her from under their dirty and threadbare caps. She was an uninvited guest who'd just entered the boy's sandbox, no doubt about it. Stuff like that didn't bother her much anymore though. She learned to ignore the attention a long time ago.

As she headed toward the counter in the dimly lit place she noticed the trucker's lounge attached to the diner. The men were clad in faded jeans, sturdy work boots and old baseball caps. Some were playing pool and video games. Some watched a flat screen TV hung high up on the wall. Every few minutes the channel changed to sports, fishing or a news station.

A few men were smoking cigarettes near the exit. The door was wide open so smoke didn't filter inside. A gust of cold air and wet snow blew into the place though. A few gruff and unshaven truckers grumbled at the smokers, complaining about the cold.

"Close that damn door!" A waitress yelled loud enough to wake the dead.

"Places' getting cold as a freezer! Goddamn nicotine idiots!" A chubby, fifty something waitress dressed in pink polyester gave her a wink and smiled. Her gargantuan breasts spilled over the top and pressed into the straining buttons securing her dress.

"Want some honey?" She asked while holding a steel carafe of burnt smelling coffee near an empty chipped and stained ceramic cup. The waitress's nametag spelled out 'Eleanor' in faded black letters.

Admittedly she only drank expensive coffee served by people who called themselves baristas. Normally she wouldn't be caught dead drinking the swill this waitress was serving up 'What the hell' Jessica thought, 'while in Rome!'

"Yes please." Jessica asked politely.

Jessica sipped the brew and nearly spit out the putrid liquid. The stuff was badly burned and tasted like crap.

"It's pretty bad huh?" The waitress asked.

"Um, it's ok." Jessica lied.

"I've got a fresh pot brewing." She murmured quietly to the pretty blonde. "I'll make sure you get some when it's done percolating."

"I appreciate that Eleanor."

"I gotta ask you where you're from honey? We don't get many looking like you in this place." The lady rested her chubby elbow on the counter.

"Sorry, many like me? Can you tell me what you mean?"

"Have you looked around? Every man here got his eyes glued to you. Look at you! You're gorgeous! How many woman you see here tonight? The only females to grace this place are waitresses, other lady truckers, and you usually can't tell if their woman most of the time and 'Lizards.' You're no Lizard, sweetie."

"Lizard? I'm assuming you don't mean a reptile?"

"A rep...?" The waitress slapped the counter and laughed out loud.

The men sitting around the two women chuckled too. Jessica felt foolish. She read about some of the lingo truckers used but this was a new one for her. She had a lot to learn apparently.

"No, honey. It's a woman looking for a warm bed, a meal, money or a free ride. You, know the type hitchhikers, runaways, druggies and prostitutes?"

"Oh, I guess I'm not familiar with that term." Jessica sounded like a nerdy academic. If she wanted to fit in she'd need to be cool. She didn't do cool very well though.

Jessica unzipped her coat and put the jacket on top of the stool but froze when saw the trucker's eyes gawking at her. She swallowed nervously watching their hungry eyes leering. Had she just entered a wolves' den? Was she the prey? Jessica was ready to bolt away like a freighted deer.

Jessica had a knock out figure complete with a nice, full rack. Her long stick straight blonde hair fell past shoulder blades. Her clingy cashmere white sweater hugged her full breasts. The waitress eyes flew wide open and she bobbed her head downward at Jessica's chest. The young woman glanced at her tits and could clearly see her nipples poking through her lacy bra. That explained the glazed eyes and drooling mouths!

Mortified, she grabbed her coat and covered herself quickly. Jessica was a conservative woman and didn't flaunt her figure anymore than her intelligence. She had little regard for people who did either.

A trucker sitting to the left of the counter caught her eye. He was wearing a John Deere Tractor cap and a red flannel shirt rolled to his forearms. His long legs were stretched out under the counter and crossed at the ankles. His big feet were clad in heavy-duty black work boots. He looked like a stereotypical trucker. Jessica thought he might be a good person to start talking too.

The trucker was chatting with two other men sitting nearby. He had better table manners than most of the guys in the place. Unlike his dinner companions he didn't stare at her. Still, Jessica needed to be cautious. Long haul truck driving probably attracted some maladjusted fellows. She assumed many must be loners like her. Most loners though, contrary to what people thought were not screwed up.

Jessica needed a man she felt comfortable around. Someone she'd feel safe enough to spend weeks on the road with. She figured this would be a really tall order and she was willing to bide her time but for some reason this man seemed, just right. Jessica plucked up her courage and decided to speak to him.

"Excuse me sir?" She said softly trying to get the trucker's attention. The men were too loud and didn't hear her though.

"Excuse me, sir?" She said again louder and more determined.

The green-capped man turned and smiled at her then and was blown away by her beauty. When she walked into the room he noticed her, like every other red-blooded man in the place. He didn't stare at her though. He was raised to be a gentleman and gentlemen didn't stare no matter how pretty the woman was.

"You talking to me darling?

His Southern drawl tickled her ears and she was pleasantly surprised. The corner of his mouth turned up. He rested his elbow on the counter trying to appear casual but his eyes took a moment to dance all over her face and body.

"Yes, I am." Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

The pretty gal pulled out a pair of coke bottle thick eyeglasses and a small pad of paper from her purse. She wasn't a typical truck stop lizard. She was classy and smart and dressed conservatively. Wow, this was a new approach! He mused.

"Don't want any company tonight, honey. You'll need to find yourself someone else, but thanks just the same." He said boldly then turned to face his buddies.

Hookers always zeroed in on him. He wasn't a bad looking guy, he guessed. He was tall and muscular. His huge feet probably got their attention. Big feet usually meant a big cock and the clever ladies were never wrong about him on that one.

"What?" Jessica blurted out. "You think I'm a...a prostitute!" She was incensed and ready to give this whole thing up and head out the door.

"Well, aren't you?" Hell, he could've misread her, he guessed.

"Certainly not! Jessica glared at him.

"Oh, well, please excuse me ma'am my apologies to you." He tipped his hat to her.

Hell, of course she was way too pretty and classy to be a hooker! So what the hell was she doing here of all places, so late on a snowy night? His protective gentlemanly instinct suddenly kicked into high gear. The diner, full of truckers leering at her were now pissing him off. This was no place for a classy lady like her!

"Well, since we cleared that up, would you be willing to answer some questions for me?" Jessica asked again, blinking through her thick eyeglasses.

"You can take whatever you want darling, I'm all yours!" He teased.

He was flattered to have the attention of such a pretty woman. He'd like to play a little, drag out having her undivided attention.

The trucker was handsome in a rugged way. He looked like a young Tom Selleck with his a thick handlebar mustache but with short, straight brown hair. He was clean-shaven and neatly dressed. Jessica was surprised how attractive he was and even more surprised how attracted to him she was.

Jessica had never socialized with truckers or even blue-collar workers before. She was raised in wealthy suburb of Boston in a prominent family of neurosurgeons. She'd been sheltered and cloistered in private schools. Her family ran in wealthy circles. The only exposure to middle and lower class people was through various outreach programs and charity work.

"Are you a long haul trucker?" She was waiting with pen in hand.

"Why, yes as a matter of fact, I am." He smiled.

"Are you currently hauling a long distance load now?"

"Why do you ask? Do you work for the state police? Did I miss a weight in station in my travels today?" He asked jokingly.

"No, I'm a soci..." Jessica paused. He didn't need to know she was a doctor of sociology.

"I'm a writer. I'm writing a book about long distance truckers and detailing what their lives are like on the road." She explained.

"That a fact? Well there is only one way to really know the life of a long haul trucker." He took the last bite of his hamburger, grabbed a flimsy napkin from the metal napkin holder and wiped his mouth.

"What's that?" Jessica leaned in closer to the man who smelled a bit like gasoline and tobacco.

"Become a long haul trucker." He chuckled. Both his dinner mates snickered.

"Thank you for your time." Jessica said briskly as she threw down a few bucks to pay for the lousy, undrinkable coffee. She grabbed her coat and made a beeline for the door.

"Should have known he was going to be an ass about it." She muttered under her breath as she headed for the door.

"You gonna let that pretty little doll leave Wade?" His dinner companion asked wide-eyed and shocked that he'd let such a stunner walk away.

"Hell no!" Wade grabbed a twenty from his black worn out leather wallet and leapt off the stool after her.

Wade stopped Jessica at the door just before she disappeared into the cold windy night. He grabbed the handle to stop her from leaving.

"What are you doing? Let me go...now! It's obvious you've enjoyed a good laugh at my expense so I'm not wasting my time with ingrates like you." She glared at him.

"Ingrate? Don't think I've ever been called an ingrate before." He scratched his forehead under his cap.

"Well, I'm happy to be the first then. Now let me pass!"

123
  • Index
  • /
  • Home
  • /
  • Stories Hub
  • /
  • Erotic Couplings
  • /
  • An Erotic Trucker's Tale Ch. 01

All contents © Copyright 1996-2023. Literotica is a registered trademark.

Desktop versionT.O.S.PrivacyReport a ProblemSupport

Version ⁨1.0.2+795cd7d.adb84bd⁩

We are testing a new version of this page. It was made in 61 milliseconds