The rest stop off I-95 was quiet after midnight, just a couple of big rigs parked and the faint glow from the bathroom lights. I pulled my truck in, killed the engine, and sat there with my cock already half-hard from the drive. I knew the drill. Guys came here to cruise, to find a warm mouth or a tight hole without names or bullshit. I zipped my jacket, stepped out, and headed straight for the men's room.
Inside, the place smelled like piss and disinfectant. One guy stood at the urinals, a tall trucker type in a flannel shirt and jeans that hugged his ass. He glanced over as I walked in. I took the urinal next to him, pulled my dick out, and started pissing slow. He didn't look away. His own cock was out, thick and veiny, and he gave it a couple strokes while he watched me.
"Looking?" he muttered, voice low and rough.
"Yeah," I said. "You got a load for me?"
He nodded toward the last stall. We both walked in. The door clicked shut behind us. He shoved me against the wall, yanked my jeans down, and dropped to his knees. His mouth was hot and wet, sucking my cock straight to the root. No teasing, just hungry slurping sounds as he bobbed his head. Spit ran down my balls while he worked me.
"Fuck, that's good," I growled. I grabbed his head and started thrusting, fucking his throat. He gagged but didn't pull off, just took it deeper. His hands squeezed my ass, fingers digging in.
After a minute he stood up, spun me around, and kicked my feet apart. I heard him spit on his hand, then felt two thick fingers push into my hole. He worked them in fast, stretching me open while his other hand reached around to stroke my cock.
"Gonna fuck this ass raw," he said. "You want that load?"
"Give it to me," I answered. "Breed me."
He lined up his cock and pushed in. It burned at first, that thick head stretching my ring, but then it slid deep. He started pounding right away, hips slapping against my ass with every thrust. The stall walls shook. His balls smacked my taint as he drove in hard.
I braced myself on the toilet and pushed back to meet him.
"Take that dick," he grunted. "Fucking slut hole."
He reached around and jerked me while he fucked. Pre-cum leaked from my cock onto his fist. The smell of sweat and sex filled the small space. He pounded faster, then buried himself to the hilt and shot. I felt every pulse, hot cum flooding my guts. He stayed inside, grinding slow as he emptied.
When he pulled out, cum dripped down my thighs. He wiped his cock on my ass cheek and left without a word. I stood there catching my breath, hole twitching and leaking.
Not five minutes later another guy came in. Younger, maybe mid-twenties, short beard, gym shorts. He saw me still in the stall with the door open and stepped inside. "Heard you taking loads," he said.
I nodded. He pulled his shorts down and fed me his cock. It was long and curved, easy to deep-throat. I sucked him sloppy, letting spit run everywhere while he held my head. Then he turned me, bent me over the sink this time, and slammed in. My ass was already slick with the first guy's cum, so he slid right home. He fucked like he was racing the clock, short hard strokes that made my cheeks ripple.
"Shit, you're full of it," he laughed, feeling the wet mess. "Nasty fucking cumdump."
He added his own load fast, shooting deep while he held my hips tight. When he finished he pulled out and watched his cum mix with the first load and run down my leg. Then he left too.
I cleaned up just enough to walk back to my truck. My ass felt used and sore in the best way, cum still leaking into my underwear. I sat in the driver's seat with the window cracked, smoking a cigarette, already thinking about who might show up next. The night was young and the rest stop was still pulling guys in. I reached down and stroked my cock again, ready for round three.
