The Truck Driver Wanted Me Dirty and Humiliated That Night

I’m young and I do this for a living. I don’t hide it and I’m not ashamed: I live by fulfilling other people’s fantasies and, most of the time, I enjoy them as much as my clients do.

I’ve had it all. The most ordinary casual sex, rough encounters, costume fetishes, women convinced that bisexuality is just a phase, men who enjoy being penetrated by me, couples looking for a third. But the ones who intrigue me most are the mature, married men who show up carrying the darkest perversions. I like those. I like being the place where they let out everything they keep quiet at home.

That night I dressed for him. An almost invisible string thong, a skirt so short it barely covered the start of my ass, a sheer mesh top that showed my nipple piercings, and high boots up to my knees. I looked at myself in the mirror and knew I was going to give him exactly what he’d asked for.

I left the car at a gas station and walked along the side of the road to the motel where truckers stop. It’s a simple place: they leave the trailer parked and go into the rooms for a while. Off to one side there are shared showers. Girls like me use them too, and sometimes the party starts right there.

When I passed by the bathrooms, two truckers were fucking each other. I stopped for a moment. I confess that seeing two men like that seems delicious to me, and I kept watching until another one climbed down from his cab and walked straight toward me.

—Hi, hot stuff. You must be the agency’s favorite, right? —he said as he came closer.

—That’s right, daddy —I answered, taking a step toward him—. I was entertained watching one of your buddies get his ass opened up in there.

—And do you like what you see? —he asked.

—A lot.

He grabbed my arm and made me turn so my back was to him. Without asking, he slid his hand under my skirt, ran his fingers through my slit all the way to my asshole, pressed just a little, and brought the finger to his mouth as if he were tasting something.

—I hope you didn’t wash your ass or give yourself an enema, like I asked —he murmured, pressing against my back—. I want you nice and dirty tonight.

—I didn’t do any washing —I answered.

It wasn’t something I usually did. Quite the opposite. But the client had been very clear and, as long as he pays, his whim is my job.

He laid his hand on my ass cheek and pulled me against his body. I wrapped my arm around his back to steady myself and noticed something hard in the back pocket of his pants: a mechanic’s wrench, one of those with a plastic handle, a ratchet wrench. I didn’t pay it any mind. We started walking toward the front desk.

—Hey, Rosa, give me a room —he told the woman at the counter.

She handed him a key without looking up. As we got closer to the room, he was already kissing me. His mouth tasted of alcohol and cigarettes, he ground the bulge in his pants against me, and shoved his tongue in deep.

He opened the door, turned on the light, and kept kissing me, this time pinning me against the wall. In the next room you could hear men moaning, that deep, broken rhythm I’d already heard outside.

When he pulled away from me, all my lipstick was smeared across his mouth and a thread of saliva was running down his neck. I must have looked just as wrecked.

***

He started undressing while he watched me. When he was done, he dropped into the armchair next to the bed.

—Get naked, pretty girl —he ordered—. And give me your thong.

I took off my top, pulled down my skirt, and slid the string thong off my legs. I walked over to him and stuffed it in his mouth. That seemed to delight him. I stayed on only my boots.

—I want to see you properly —he said.

I stood in front of him. He started touching my tits, then pressed his face to my stomach and bit me, sucked my skin downward until he reached my pubis. He buried his nose between my lips and grabbed my ass cheeks to smell me up close. Then he yanked me, made me turn, and pressed his face against my ass, bending me over so he could get fully between my cheeks.

I would never have allowed something like that without washing first, as I do when there’s anal sex. But it was exactly what he’d asked for. I let that idea go, stopped thinking, and to my surprise, knowing how exposed I was turned me on.

I felt his tongue press against my asshole and got even hotter.

—Your hole tastes so fucking good —he said against my skin.

He grabbed my hair and dragged me to the floor. He turned me over in one motion. He was rough, too rough, and I liked it more than I wanted to admit.

Without letting go of my hair, he brought his cock to my face. He made me suck it, tapped my cheeks with it, rested his balls against my nose while with his other hand he shoved his fingers into his own ass. He smelled like a real man, like sweat and the road. He pulled his cock out of my mouth and made me suck the finger he’d used on himself too.

He put me on all fours.

—I hope the fucking I’m about to give you makes you want to shit —he said—. I want to feel you dirt up my whole cock.

The words hit me harder than his hand. No one had ever asked me for anything like that, so direct, so filthy.

***

He shoved me forward until my cheek was against the floor. He settled behind me and mounted me. He entered me in one thrust and I screamed from the pain. He started moving fast, punishing my hole while I cried out, not even sure anymore whether it was pain or pleasure.

He grabbed my hair again and lifted me to fuck me standing up, crushed against the wall. Then he bent me over the bed and kept fucking me hard, slapping my ass, biting my neck, kissing my back.

—You’re such a filthy little whore, pretty girl —he told me almost shouting—. I want to feel your shit on my cock.

I was trembling with excitement. It was humiliating and yet I couldn’t stop moaning. Something in that shame lit me up like nothing else.

He sat on the edge of the bed, panting.

—Do you feel like shitting? —he asked.

—No, not yet —I answered, embarrassed.

He stood up, searched in his pants for the plastic-handled wrench, and put me on all fours again. He spat on the handle into his hand.

—Let’s see if this helps —he said with a mocking smile.

I was shaking. He placed the tip at my asshole and slowly worked it in. Once inside, he began moving it, pulling it out and pushing it back in faster and faster. I was crying from the pain and from some strange, alien sensation that made me feel broken and desired at the same time. I moaned, begged him to stop, but he ignored me. I felt my stomach churn and knew something was coming.

—Are you ready yet, pretty girl? —he said, pulling the wrench out—. Now stand up and sit on my cock.

I got up as best I could. I was sore and horny at the same time.

—Mm, little slut, it feels close —he murmured as he sank into me again.

I felt the burn of penetration again until he shouted.

—It’s coming out of you now, pretty girl —he said—. Stand up and spread your ass cheeks. I want to see it.

***

It was humiliating. My ass hurt, my legs were shaking, but I got off his cock, leaned forward, and let everything come out onto him.

I had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever seen me like that, and it would never have occurred to me to show a man that while spreading my ass cheeks with both hands. And yet there I was, fully exposed, feeling the shame mix with a dark pleasure I couldn’t name.

—That’s it, little cunt —he kept repeating, turned on.

When I was done, I didn’t want to turn around. I just felt small, humiliated. He put his fingers inside to make sure I’d gotten it all out.

When I turned around I found him jerking off, smeared, completely lost in his own perversion. He got so worked up that after a couple of tugs he shot out a thick stream that ran down and mixed with my filth.

I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there looking at him, thinking only of running to the showers. I was terrified someone would see me like that.

I picked up my skirt, thong, and top. He got out of bed naked, his cock still stained.

***

We headed to the bathrooms. I took off my boots, left my clothes on a bench, and stepped into the first shower stall. I was going to wash myself alone when he stopped me.

—You’re not thinking of bathing without me —he said.

I turned on the water and started cleaning my ass, bending over, scrubbing quickly. Just then two other men came into the bathroom.

—Did the little whore shit herself? —one said, laughing.

—Look, I’ve still got her shit on me —the one who’d fucked me answered.

—Hey, pretty girl, wash that little ass real good —the other said while tugging on his cock.

I was dying of embarrassment, but I didn’t say anything. When I tried to leave, the trucker blocked my way.

—Where are you going, beautiful? I haven’t fucked you from the front yet —he said, washing his cock.

One of the newcomers blocked the exit and the other already had me by the arm.

—Maybe we should shower together, little whore —one said.

—Let’s have some fun —the other added.

I didn’t say anything. The trucker was ready again already. The three of them surrounded me inside the small shower stall, bodies pressed together, water falling over all of us. They started pawing at me all at once: one hand on my ass, another finger-fucking me from the front, a mouth on my neck. They bit me, squeezed me, rubbed their cocks against me.

The trucker fucked me from the front while another one ground his cock between my ass cheeks. The third just watched and jerked off. Then they switched. The second one fucked me while the other two touched and kissed each other. They kept going like that, taking turns, until each one came inside me.

When we finally came out, the other two went off to a room. The trucker snatched my thong away as a trophy. I put on only my skirt and boots, with nothing underneath.

He walked with me to his trailer, paid me what we’d agreed on, and went into the room with his friends without looking back.

I walked back half wet along the roadside to my car. There were few cars passing, and the ones that saw me honked when they noticed my tits out and my dripping skirt. I walked slowly, still trembling, not quite understanding why, in the middle of so much humiliation, part of me was already thinking about the next time.