Raunchy at Rest Stops

Derek, an aspiring vanlife traveler, has learned that life on the road can be a lonely one. That changes suddenly one night a highway rest stop when he meets Bailey, a career long haul trucker. Her offer to give him a personalized tour of her extended cab -- her home -- is something he can't refuse. What he doesn't realize is that she has something more in mind than just a tour.

WARNING! This short story contains graphic and explicit depictions of sex between consenting adults. It is intended only for mature readers of legal age. Here is an excerpt.

Bailey stood, grabbed my hand, and swiftly guided me towards her truck. She opened the navigator's door and climbed in, and I followed her up. It was hard not to notice how round and firm her butt was. I mean, it was right and front of my face! I also noticed another massive tattoo I seemed to have missed earlier. How that was possible was beyond me. She had a kneeling and praying Virgin Mary inked out in, again, gradients of gray.
I marveled at what I saw. Her sleeper cab looked a lot bigger on the inside than the outside. I'm roughly six foot two, and I had no problem standing upright. Still, it was mostly spare, utilitarian. I wouldn't say drab; it looked like Bailey maximized the space the best of her ability. There was a silly, plushy unicorn hanging from her rearview monitor screen, and it was the only bit of color in a very neutral cockpit. The rest of her driving and navigator's area was immaculately organized. It made me think that either Bailey travelled light or was master of stealth storage. She showed me to what she called her galley nook where a microwave was set into the wall. Below that was a small prep area, a tiny sink, and a drawer for utensils – she only possessed one fork, one knife, and one spoon. That made sense, after all: truck cabs are not really laid out for hospitality and hosting guests. Below all of that, she opened the door to a small refrigerator that had a few bottles of diet cola on the door, and then mostly the rest stored there were vegetables and bags lettuce and other greens. It would have been very safe assume that a lot of diet consisted of salads. As for the lack of cutlery, the same could be said for my SUV, but I could stand inside Bailey's rig. That's not something that I could say about the vehicle I had been calling home. She showed me some storage spaces. Overall, one could describe the space as tiny, but comfortable. Truth be told, it felt like if you took the concept of an RV and shrunk it down to a studio apartment version of that – minus a toilet. As she showed me around, she explained that she was an independent contractor and not a company driver. So, this extended cab was 100% hers.

Then, she led me to the rear of the cab, and it was a little deceptive. There was a table flush against the wall. Next to that was a two-seat sofa made at of memory foam with simple zippered covers. I could imagine myself using it as both a dining area and a work space. Only, Bailey undid a few latches and lowered the surface to floor. She then pulled the sofa out into a single bed. Reaching into a cabinet, she pulled out a blanket and spread it over the sleeping space. She followed that with a placement of a single pillow.

I thought this was a subtle signal that it was my time to find a polite way to leave. Her careful display of preparing her bed could have definitely been construed as preparing for turning in for the night.. "Well, thanks for the tour." I was about to turn to exit.

"Why are you in such a rush to leave?" She turned and put her hands on her hips.

"Aren't you getting ready to go to sleep?"
"
Think about it, Derek. A slightly stoned girl invites you into her home and shows you her bed. Isn't there something else that you can infer from that?"

"Oh." My mouth dropped open ...

Raunchy at Rest Stops