Page 10 of Highway To Destiny

“Sounds like fun, but it depends on my tutoring schedule,” Spencer replied.

Spencer had a part-time gig on campus as a math tutor and enjoyed it. That reminded me of my unsuccessful attempts to find part-time work. Now that Spencer mentioned his tutoring, I realized it could be an option worth exploring. Finance and statistics were my jam, and I was sure there were probably undergrads who needed extra help.

When we were gastronomically satisfied, we left the diner and headed back to the dorm. It was a fifteen-minute walk, and my thoughts drifted to Mason as I lifted my hood to block a sudden gust of wind. I wondered if a certain trucker was ever coming back this way, and would it coincide with the kegger party approaching in a few weeks? I’d already told Spencer of my trucker daddy moment and thought it would be fun to show off my lustful object of desire.

The problem was I didn’t get Mason’s cell number before we parted ways.Dammit!

It was late afternoon, and Spencer had to check in with one of his tutoring clients once we got closer to the dormitory, so we parted ways. I headed to my room to study, and Spencer jogged off to the mathematics department.

I took out the dirty gym clothes, towel, and swimsuit from my gym bag and threw them in the hamper to worry about later. I knew I was in for a few hours of readingThe Global Economy: A Concise Historyand wanted to get comfortable before diving in. I changed into lounge pants and a fresh sweatshirt and plopped onto my twin bed with my back against the wall. I settled in with the intention of getting through about six or eight chapters, but my thoughts drifted to Mason.

The thought of inviting the handsome, sexy man to a college kegger had me composing scripts in my head should he accept my invitation. I remembered his snug-fitting T-shirt, tight jeans, and rugged profile as he skillfully drove his rig. Just the thought of his beard-stubbled, angular jawline and wave of black hair peeking out from behind his cap made my cock swell. Of course, wearing lounge pants with no underwear had me tenting and straining against the fabric.

I put my book down as I reached under my waistband to slowly stroke my swollen cock and noticed the growing wet spot on the grey fabric. As I rubbed the head of my dick on the front of my pants, I shuddered out a moan, feeling the sensitive crown brush against the material. I wanted to free myself for easier access, so I pushed the lounge pants down to my knees and kicked them off. I must have been a sight sprawled on my bed, only wearing a sweatshirt and socks, stroking my length in anticipation of release.

I spread my legs, bending my knees to expose my butthole to the room. I loved to jerk off with my legs hiked up like I was ready. Just the thought of a dick pressed against my hole, with it finally breaching my muscled ring, made my cock harden further.

The air in my room was cool, but my pulse raced. My heated body felt open and vulnerable. I bucked back and forth on the mattress as if being fucked, scooting down with my butt over the edge of the bed. My head rolled from side to side, and my eyes closed. Thoughts of Mason standing over me with his hard cock ready made my breathing increase.

My strokes became stronger and faster, and precum leaked heavily. I occasionally wiped it onto my finger and brought it to my lips, savoring its salty nectar. There was something I loved about the taste of cum, even my own.

I was proud of my cut dick. It was a good seven and a half inches with just the right amount of girth and sported a mushroom head. My previous boyfriends, and fuck buddies, were always appreciative as they sucked me down, stroked, and licked its length, but I mainly leaned toward the receptive side of things when we fucked.

I loved the feeling of a hard cock filling me up with slow strokes as I gazed into their eyes. The few times I fucked as a top, I did so with enthusiasm. Doggy style was my preferred dominant position, as I could drive deep with each thrust. But in my current state of arousal and lust-filled thoughts of Mason, I wanted him driving deep inside me.

I craved Mason’s sculpted body on top of me, growling as he teased his cock against my hole before pushing inside. Holding and tugging my balls in one hand, I let a finger stroke my taint. As I slowly brought it down to probe my hole, I moaned as I felt warmth rush up my spine.

I immediately erupted. “Jesus Christ… Mason!” I huffed out, eyes closed, as cum shot from my swollen dick, up my sweatshirt to my chin, then finally slowed to a dribble covering the head of my cock. It was a beautiful, creamy mess.

I lay there, letting my breathing slow. Taking deep breaths, I came down from my euphoric high. My sweatshirt was painted with splotches of cum soaked into the material. I hadn’t taken care of myself for a few days, and the amount of wet evidence was impressive. That had been a different and much-welcomed form of release. I felt a good jackoff session was even a better stress reliever than swimming ever could be.

I sat back up, composed myself, and let out a tiny laugh. There I was, thinking of Mason, and I had no idea if he preferred men or women. I shook my head and slowly stood, not wanting to feel a head rush by standing too quickly. I removed the cum coated sweatshirt and wiped the remnants of my release from my dick. I threw it in the hamper on top of the sweaty gym clothes. I reached down and grabbed my lounge pants, pulled them on, and threw on a fresh T-shirt.

I sat on the bed, scooted back, and positioned myself as before to read those damn chapters I had thrown aside. I felt relaxed after having worked out, full after a late lunch, and now satiated after coming to the thoughts of the trucker I couldn’t stop fantasizing about.

I certainly hope to see you again, trucker daddy. If so, I know exactly what I plan to ask—and maybe even do to you!

9

MASON

Istayed in Crescent City for almost two weeks and spent most of the time hanging with Eli and some of the locals I knew well. Eli’s Bar and Grill had become my nightly hangout. With locals frequenting his place, there were nights of interesting conversation and laughs. I barely cooked at home with the great food his kitchen dished up. Those big ideas of grilling at home ended after a few days.

I knew I had to get back on the road again soon, but I wanted to make sure my rig was well-tuned and ready for the stretches of highway I’d be traversing. I also needed to clean out the sleeper cab and stock it with fresh clothing, toiletries, and sheets.

My sleeper cab mattress measured forty-two by eighty inches and was around seven inches high. For comfort, I’d added a custom mattress topper, which provided relief for my back after long days of driving. Next to the bed was a narrow closet with storage. Between the cab’s front seats, a compact refrigerator doubled as a console and offered a practical surface within easy reach. Together, the touches brought me the comforts of home on the road.

After the much-needed break, I finally said my goodbyes and drove out of Crescent City. I’d spent time reconnecting with friends and soaking in the ocean views and the scent of salty air at my condo. I’d relaxed on my deck in the evenings and taken in amazing sunsets, watching the parade of seagulls overhead, serenaded by the crashing surf below. My only wish was to have Connor sitting with me to enjoy the painted view. It was refreshing to embrace the quiet and escape the constant rumble of the highway.

I strolled around town daily and chatted with the locals I knew. A few wanted to know how my life was going since Claudia’s passing, even though it was ten years ago, and I told them I was doing just fine. I didn’t need to have gossip spread about me.

Before hitting the road, I contacted my freight broker, who gave me my next load assignments. The route took me down through California, eventually through Nevada, and up into Utah. There were quite a few pick-ups and deliveries, and with the weather heading toward the winter months, Southern California and Las Vegas felt inviting with warmer climates.

It was the beginning of November and I was heading up to Ogden, Utah, for a delivery and then onto the familiar Interstate 84 up into Idaho. My next stop was Twin Falls, from there to Boise and then up into eastern Oregon. I noticed I had a stop in La Grande again, which would take me to Elmer and Ruthie’s store for another drop-off. My stomach suddenly had butterflies, and I wondered if I would run into Connor. I guess my infatuation hadn’t subsided, and I yearned to chat with him again.

Those damn green eyes!

It was late morning when I rolled into La Grande and stopped at Elmer and Ruthie’s store. I’d had a quick breakfast of an egg white omelet, turkey bacon, and avocado around seven that morning at a roadside restaurant, but I was starving and planned to hit a place in town for lunch.

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