Bridgette La Flume, is the only woman I have ever known who can use a fluent stream of profanity and make it sound like it was coming from the lips of an angel.
Make no mistake, Bridgette is no angel.
With a heavy aristocratic French accent, she was in full cry again, "John, John, make me come, I need to shoot from my pussy again. Fuck my hot, horny cunt hard and make my pussy sing."
My arm was beginning to feel like lead as I thrust my tired fingers back in her. She had squirted five times already and was in full cry for more, as I began to grant her wish.
Mrs. La Flume, is in her 40's now and a top writer for several European, women magazines. In her youth she had been a very successful professional tennis player, possessing a beautiful lithe body, making her the desire of many wealthy and powerful men.
After retiring from the circuit, her fame had gotten her a job, as a fashion reporter. Her gutsy tenacity and a razor sharp pen allowed her to climb to the top of her profession, on the body parts of people and businesses that she had carved up.
I had once been told by a Scandinavian friend, "Bridgette liked to have sex with her pen."
At first, I took that to mean that she had a proclivity for a particularly unusual sex act.
Despite my remarks, Bridgette and I have an understanding of each other and with, Mrs. La Flume, that's as good as it gets. After all, it was she, who dubbed me with the title of, "Americas Most Sexually Sought After Male."
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As I look back, I didn't plan my life to be like this. I had always wanted to have my own business and make good money. However, in a million years, I never would have dreamt, I'd make this much money this way.
I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start with a brief biography. That should give you an idea of who I am, or rather who I was, and you'll understand, exactly how unlikely it was, that I would ever be given any title, with the word "Sexual" in it.
My name is, John Drake. No relation to Sir Francis, though, my lust for exploring a new frontier, may have equaled his.
In High School, I was what the teachers called, an underachiever. "If John would only apply himself," they would say.
My parents called it laziness. The truth is, I was bored in school. Nothing there peaked my interest. That is, if you don't count girls.
Unfortunately, that was a one sided interest.
I dated infrequently, not being one of those, "popular guys," girls would just die to have a date with. As a result my sexual experiences were limited, to what I would call, self expressionism.
Upon graduating from High School, I had no clue as to what I was going to do with the rest of my life.
I was offered a choice by my father. "Either you go to a technical school and learn to be an auto mechanic; or, I'll take you down to the naval recruiter, to enlist."
I had no desire to be a mechanic like him, and I didn't wait for him to give me that ride. I got a lift to the recruiters office, in San Diego, from a school friend.
Big Al, as he was called in school, was a second string tackle on the Pine Valley football team. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but a good old boy if there ever was one, with an infectious booming laugh that made you want to join in.
During the sixty mile trip to San Diego, we talked about, how we were going to be shipmates, see the world and get laid in every port.
He told me, that he wanted to be a gunner on a destroyer, just like his Dad, when he was in the Navy, back in the early 70's.
When we got there, the recruiter was great. He asked me what I wanted to do in the Navy. So, I told him, "I'd like to serve on a big destroyer as a gunner, in one of those big long guns."
The recruiter looked me square in the eyes and said, "Son, with your qualifications, where else could they put you." He smiled, as he slid the enlistment papers over for me to sign.
Three and a half months later, I found out where else the Navy could and did put me.
I was OJT (on the job training) as a mechanic, not on a destroyer, or any ship for that matter. I was sent to the motor pool at Lake Mead Naval Base.
First of all, who knew that the Navy even had trucks. Secondly, Lake Mead Naval Base is three hundred miles, due East of the Pacific Ocean and seventy miles to the closest body of water, of any kind. That being Lake Mead itself. Most guys, get transferred around in the military, that is, except for me.
Four years at the same duty station. If there ever was a guy that could fall into a bucket of tits and come up sucking his thumb, it was me. I was sure of it.
If you're wondering about Big Al. They assigned him to an aircraft carrier, as a flight deck crew chief, probably because his voice could be heard above the roar of any jet engine.
Oh yeah, I did get laid on occasion. It's hard to work that close to Las Vegas and not get laid on a regular basis. So, to be honest, it wasn't that bad of a duty station.
I did not re-enlist after my hitch was up. Instead, I went home and my Dad, got me a job as a diesel mechanic, at a trucking company. "C&R Transport", better known to its employees as "Crash and Roll Transport."
After four years of independence, I was not about to move back in with my parents, only to find my Mom, going through my things and my Dad, coming up with chores for me to do.
So, I got myself a two bedroom apartment, or "Bachelor Pad," as I preferred to call it. Eight hundred and seventy bucks a month, at the Taylor Arms. Not bad, for a just out of the Navy, twenty two year old.
I furnished the place, in accordance to every horny young mans dreams. King size bed, nice stereo equipment, big screen TV, lazy boy sofa and even some book cases and a kitchen table.
I also bought a few pots and pans, thinking, some good looking chick would want to cook breakfast for me.
I was considerate enough to buy several extra toothbrushes and a skimpy black lace bathrobe.
Yup, I was ready for the women.
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Shortly, after starting work on commercial trucks, I could see, that I was working on the wrong side of the truck.
Mostly, I saw the truckers that showered once a month, weather they needed it or not.
These are the guys that always complain about everything. They have no money, because they piss it away at Titty Bars or on lot lizards. (For the uninformed, these are the ladies that ply their trade at truck stops. Most have no teeth, a bad drug habit and a severe case of crotch crickets.)
However, there were some drivers that you seldom saw. Most owned their own rigs. They were the ones I wanted to emulate.
They seldom talked about how much money they were making. They were always clean and their bellies or the crack of their asses were never showing. (I did learn from one of the girls in payroll, that most of the good drivers were making over a hundred and fifty thousand a year and that Old Fred, had four trucks and made over half a million.)
That clinched it for me. I started taking classes at the community college, nights and weekends to get my CDL (commercial drivers license), a six month course.
It was during this time that I met Alice, at the, "Double D Coffee Shop", where she worked.
She always had a bright and cheery smile. That was probably the fifth thing that you noticed about her.
First item to pop up, was her breasts. The second, was the way they stood out against her white polyester blouse. Third, was her cleavage, and forth, was her ass, that was shoehorned into black spandex pants.
I stopped in every day, for my morning coffee and again at lunch. I did this for three weeks, before I worked up the nerve to ask her out for dinner and a movie of her choice.
The following Friday night, we were sitting in Outback Steakhouse. Enjoying each others company. We talked about work and what we wanted out of life, over a couple of beers and steaks. She was easy to talk to and fun to be with.
She told me how her tips would go up if she showed a lot of cleavage, and about the day that she pulled a breast up to where part of her nipple was showing. She made over a hundred and twenty dollars in tips, before the owners wife caught her and threatened to fire her if she ever saw her do that again.
I could believe her story was true. I had, on more than one occasion, given her a big tip, just because she leaned way over in front of me and gave me a good look at her bulging breasts.
We never did go to the movies, as she asked to see my apartment. I was happy to oblige.
Alice, was a five foot six inch, blonde bundle of unrefined sex, far from timid. No sooner had the door shut, she turned to face me. Our eyes locked and we kissed. Softly at first, never breaking contact as the intensity of the kiss increased and our tongues began to intertwine.
She pulled my hand from her back and brought it up to her breast. I could feel her nipple, pushing out against the thick material of her tube top. Her hand went to my crotch and she began to stroke my prick thru my pants.
I was horny even before we walked thru the door. Now, five minutes later, my prick was weeping and I had a large wet spot. At this point, all I really wanted to do, was slide into her and come.
I broke our kiss and move my head down so I could suckle her breast.
As I began to move her top down, so I could get to a nipple, she pulled it completely down to her belly. Now, giving me total access to both soft fleshy globes. I began to reconsider the immediacy of my need to come, now that I had these luscious tits to squeeze, and suck on.
She had the greatest tits. In our three year relationship, I never did ask her bra size. I'd guess her cup size was somewhere between BIG and REALLY BIG. I'm talking the kind of tits that you could start playing with and almost forget about wanting to slide your dick into her pussy; almost.
Even to this day, as I reminisce about her, my first visual image is of her big milk white breasts with large light brown areolas and rose pink nipples the size of a dime. They reminded me of small strawberries.
Alice was one of those women you could call big boned. She wasn't fat, but she wasn't muscular either. She was, soft in all the right places.
That night, was a frenzy of sexual excitement. We stripped each other , fondling, kissing and sucking on every newly exposed segment of flesh, while working our way back to my king size bed.
I found that Alice was a real blonde. Her pubic mound was only sparsely covered with soft, very fine hair. She had plump lips and I think she got as much satisfaction out of me sucking on them as she did when I'd suck on her clit.
She was beginning to shudder when she stopped me from making her come.
With sexual excitement in her voice, she said, "I want our first time to last. I want this to be a memory, one we will both remember for the rest of our lives."
She had me lay on my back and she climbed on top of me. As she guided my prick into her, I thought I was going to come. I felt her sliding down my shaft, so slowly, but that sensation of pleasure was not quite enough to take me over the brink.
Now that she was nestled all the way down, she didn't move again. She just sat there, not even a twitch from the muscles in her cunt.
All I could feel was the wet warmth wrapped around my dick. We both stayed motionless, our minds being consumed by the anticipation of pleasure yet to come.
With a sudden lurch, Alice slid forward off my prick. She jiggled a breast in front of my lips as I involuntarily thrust my hips up, trying to regain entry into her.
I sucked her nipple into my mouth, sucking hard on it, trying to punish her for not letting me come.
That was when I heard her say, "Bite my nipple, go on, bite it."
I was shocked and surprised to here these words, but I did as she asked. I gave a light nip with my teeth. Only to hear, "No, bite it harder."
I was reluctant to cause her pain, so I increased the pressure of the bite only a little to hear her demand, "Harder!"
She screamed a short cry of real pain.
I stopped the bite, releasing her nipple and with no little fright asked, "Are you ok?"
"Oh yeah," she said, breathing with relief. "I needed that or I would have come."
With that she got off me. My desire to come, momentarily forgotten, until her lips slid around my dick and I felt her tongue teasing the top slit of it. She next slid her lips down the under side and without warning, took a hard nip on the sensitive area.
I shot up into a sitting position, removing the threat of any more possible damage, to my precious.
"Yow," I yelped. I saw teeth marks on my dick. "What was that," I asked?
"Now, you don't feel like you have to come either. Do you!"
Before I could answer, she had my softening dick between her breasts and the thought of the bite was forgotten.
Once I was fully hard again, she swung around, planting her cunt over my face. She began to run her tongue up and around my dick as I pulled her ass down so I could penetrate her with my tongue.
It wasn't long before I couldn't concentrate on tongue fucking her any more, I needed to come. Pulling my mouth away from her, and in a shaky voice said, "No more biting! I need to come now!"
Without a word, she turned, and began wiggling over my prick, working the head in before she began a frantic series of thrusts and heaves.
She was riding my prick, working it, as she pushed down hard, trying to get as much of me in her as she could. She was kneading her breasts, and pulling out hard on her nipples.
Even if she hadn't been riding my dick, I could have come, by just watching her play with her tits.
Our orgasms arrived only seconds apart from each other.
I felt the throb and squeeze of all the muscles in her cunt as she cried out, her thoughts. "Empty your balls in me. Fill me full of your cum. Don't let me stop coming. FUCK ME," She screamed!
I'm not sure if it was the feel of her demanding cunt or if it were her words that drove me into a climax that had my body spasm under her.
As she cried her final release, she collapsed into my arms. The feel of her hard tormented nipples pressing against me.
We screwed each others brains out again that night and every night for the rest of that week. By the following weekend, she had moved in with me. I honestly felt life couldn't get much better.
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Six months passed and I aced my CDL written exam and road test. The very next day I went up to Mr. Rayford Crest, the owner of C&R Transport, showed him my new license and asked about leaving my mechanics job for a job as a company driver.
Ray, as I was later to call him, was a tall and very thin man, with a gaunt face. We used to joke in the shop that his wife had to chase him around in the shower every morning, so he could get wet. He was, in simple terms, a good man, with morals and a code of conduct and ethics that you seldom find today.
He looked down at me for a long moment and said, "Fine, go climb in that big Volvo condo (for the non-trucker out there, a "condo" is one of those big trucks, 13'6" high, with two beds and usually has everything in it, including the kitchen sink.) and hook up to that second fifty two foot trailer.
I got the job as a local company driver, making thirty six cents a mile.
I know, it doesn't sound like much, but multiply that by five hundred miles a day and you get nine hundred dollars a week. To a twenty three year old, that's a lot of money.
When I went home and told Alice, she was really excited and suggested we go out and celebrate. We did just that.
The problem was, Alice saw my new job, not as a reason to celebrate, but as a means of celebrating, every night. Sure, the sex was great and it clouded my vision of saving, so I could buy my own truck and double my income.
After blowing five hundred dollars in a local casino, I was snapped back into reality. I pulled the reins in on our spending, and started saving most all of the money I made. It put a big crimp in our previous life style, much to Alice's displeasure, but she never really complained.
Seven months later, I bought my first truck, a three year old Freightliner Classic with only three hundred and eighty thousand miles on it. (Again, to the non trucking population, 380,000 miles is not a lot. There are trucks still going strong after 1 million miles.) Alice and I christened the truck that night and you could still smell the odor of hot sex for the next three days.
I was now doing Regional Runs, up and down California to Washington, and east to Arizona, Nevada and Utah. I was covering up to thirty two hundred miles a week, and home on weekends.
Occasionally, Alice would take a few days off and go with me.
On her first trip out, she fell in love with the truck. It started when she went to stand up to get a cold drink from the refrigerator. The inside of her leg brushed up against the top of the gear shift. She felt it vibrating, so she bent her knees until the top of the shift was at the crotch of her jeans. Two minutes later, her jeans were off.
Over the next twenty miles, the truck was filled with moans and cries of pleasure. Pussy juice was dripping down the head of the shift. Her knuckles were white as she braced herself with her hands, holding onto the front dash
With one last gasp, her legs gave out. She managed to slide off the shift and found herself in the precarious position of being wedged between the two seats, without enough strength to get up.
I had to pull off the interstate and help her back to the bunk. By now, I was so horny from watching her, I couldn't drop my pants fast enough.
As I began to climbed between her legs, she started to panic, "No, please, no. Not my pussy, it would kill me. I want to feel you in my ass. Yes, do it. Let me lay on my side and you can fuck my ass."
She rolled to her side. Her crack and the inside of her legs were slick and with her own lubricant. Without much effort my dick penetrated her.
As I slid deeper inside her, I could still feel her pussy, going thru after shocks of her orgasms. The vibrations of them felt incredible against my prick.
I began thrusting into her, headed for my own relief, when I heard her.
"Oh, Fuck. I'm going to come, Oh, Fuck!"
Her voice had an edge of fear in it, as if this was an orgasm that she would rather not have.
I felt two fingers being pushed into her tortured cunt. That was enough to make me thrust and push hard into her ass, as my dick pulsed cum into her.
Alice groaned her way thru her orgasm and even before it ended, she was pleading with me, thru panicked short breaths, "Don't, move. Please don't move."
We lay there, spooned together. When I felt her breathing return to normal, I slowly pulled out of her ass.
When I looked at her, she was asleep.
That episode was all it took, she was hooked. From that time on, when ever we would hit open road, she'd drop her jeans, pull her panties off and ride the shift for orgasm heaven. She got so good at it, she could give me a blow job while pushing her cunt against the vibrating shift, and I could play with her tits as we drove down the interstate. Ah, the things you can do in a big truck.
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Almost ten months later, I had the chance to buy two fairly new International trucks with flat bed trailers for the bargain price of one hundred and eighty thousand. I didn't have 180K, so I went to Mr. Rayford Crest and told him about this great deal.
I had hoped that he would want one of the trucks and loan me 50 thousand so I could buy the other. We talked and he asked me, where I saw myself going. I naively told him my dream of owning a big trucking company some day.
I can remember his exact words to me. "OK, John, I will help you start your trucking company, but you must give me your word that you will follow my advise and I expect you to honor your word."
My response, as I look back, was rather dumb. "Well, a yeah, of course." was the best I could do.
I left Ray's office with a large check, a list of things I had to do and the contact names of people at three businesses, that were looking for a reliable freight company.
Ray never asked me to sign anything, this was a true handshake deal. However before leaving his office, he did admonish me, "John, don't ever do what I have just done. Always, always, get it in writing and have an attorney look at it."
So I don't forget to mention it, Yes, I paid Ray back the money he loaned me. He refused to accept any interest, saying, "At my age, it gives me hope, that the old ways aren't dead. It also gives me a glad and happy feeling, to see a man live up to his word."
This now brings me to the point where I believe, you the reader have a fair idea of my life and my personality.
I personally view myself as an average guy, with big hopes and big fears about his abilities to reach his dreams.
Honesty does compel me to mention a few other moments of my life, that I may have glossed over. Like the time when, on a dare, I chained the rear axel of Mr. Petski's small pickup to a fire hydrant. That morning, when he roared off to work, he snapped the hydrant and yanked the rear end out from his pickup. (after all Mr. Petski was a really a mean SOB). Then there was the weekend at C&R Transportation, when I cheated on Alice, with a pregnant secretary. She was crying, because her husband refused to fuck her, now that she was so far along. It seemed the right thing to do at the time, just to strip her down, lay her on the desk and fulfill her wishes, while squeezing milk from her teats, to see how far it would squirt.
And, I guess there may be one, two other things that I refuse to remember, because I am not particularly proud of having done any of them.
All of this said, now brings me to the point or juncture where my life started to change.
I now had three trucks, hauling freight from San Diego to Houston, picking up in Houston, delivering to Atlanta and picking up just out side Atlanta and delivering back to San Diego. It was the perfect route for my start up business.
I was making good money and I paid my two other drivers, above what other companies would have paid, because they were both reliable and safe drivers and I had no desire to loose them.
"Yes, life was good." I felt secure in what I had, as I drove down the road.
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