**Pink Miles, No Refusal**

I had got me a job at a truck stop and it had a restaurant inside and I was a bus boy waiting on tables and I would listen to the Truckers telling jokes And one of the Truckers asked me have I seen Sally and her big pink semi truck and then they started laughing at me and i asked why are you laughing and they said Sally loves young guys and you probably will end up in her truck and I laugh and said it will never happen and then Sally walked in and I seen her pink semi sitting outside and then

The diner’s neon glow bled through the grimy windows, sticky with grease and the slow, thick smoke of a hundred cigarettes. I wiped down the last table—sharp, fast—and turned just as the double doors clattered open, the bell above them jingling like a cheap alarm. Sally walked in, all leather and hips, her boots clicking against the linoleum as she scanned the room. The pink semi outside wasn’t just for show; half the men in here were used goods, trading up for her rig like it was a damn timeshare. I didn’t move. Didn’t stutter. "Wrench." She pointed at me. Not *honey* or *sweetie*—just that. The name from her dog tags. Like I had one too. I swallowed, gripping the rag tighter. "Yeah?" Her lips curled, slow and real, not like the ones in the grease-stain calendar who never said shit. "Cleaned out the bathroom down the hall yet?" The guys at the counter exhaled in unison, shifting their weight like they were leaning on each other’s shoulders. I knew exactly what they’d imagine—her rig, me bent over, the faucet running hot. "Sally," the oldest trucker, a guy with a gut that threatened to unzip his uniform, said around his coffee cup, "this one’s fresh meat. You break him in yourself." She didn’t even look at him. Just me. The challenge was in her eyes—hard, used, *hungry*. "I don’t share. Not with you or those yapping crows." Her gaze dragged down my body, lingering on the bulge in my jeans that hadn’t been there before. "You got a problem with that?" My throat was dry. "No, ma'am." "That’s right. You don’t." She tossed her keys down. "C’mon, Wrench. Let’s get acquainted." I followed her, the whole time knowing exactly what *acquainted* meant. The stall door locked behind us before she turned. Her thumb hooked into my belt then. "Truck stops need good crew, boy. Loyal ones." She didn’t wait for my answer. Already her hands were working, undoing my pants with no hesitation. "Show me what you been hiding from these old bastards."

The metal under her thumb was cold against my hip, but her fingers burned as they slid past my waistband. I didn’t breathe while she hooked my zipper down, slow and deliberate, dragging it between her knuckles like a dare. The air smelled like bleach and her perfume—something sharp, like engine grease cut with honey. "Not a word," she murmured, her voice rougher than the gravel outside. "Unless you want ‘em to hear." My pants pooled at my ankles but I couldn’t lift my foot, not with her staring at me like that. Like she owned the right to whatever she wanted to take. She did. I knew it. "Bend over," she ordered, palm flat against the small of my back—not hard, not gentle. Just *there*. "I need to see how tight your ass is when you’re not just flexing for them." The porcelain top of the toilet was cold against my hands. She didn’t waste time. Her knee nudged mine apart and then she was there, her weight not quite heavy but not light either, pressing me down into the bowl’s edge. The sound of my belt buckle hitting the floor was lost under the clatter of dishes outside. "Such a perfect little hole," she hummed, fingers already tracing. "Wonder what it tastes like."

The belt of her coveralls hit the hook with a sharp metallic scrape. Her shirt was next, peeling back to reveal the curve of her ribs, the weight of her breasts, the thin trail of scar just above her hip. I didn’t move. Couldn’t. The way the light caught the curve of her fingers as they undid the catches on her bra—slow, precise, like she was opening a prize—made my pulse hammer. "Goddamn, look at that," she growled, tossing the fabric aside. No panties. Just the way she’d have ‘em in the cab, easy to pull off while gripping the steering wheel. "No time to get dressed up for me? Or you just this eager?" She kicked her boots off, one toe connecting with the inside of my knee before she dropped the other. The sound of her zippers was my undoing. My cock twitched, but she saw it—*felt* it through the fabric of my jeans. Her laugh was dark, triumphant. "You really do like the idea, don’t you?" She yanked my pants down all the way, leaving me bare except for the cold press of the toilet bowl against my thighs. Her own jeans rode low on her hips, the elastic of her panties already dug into the skin. "Look at you, all flushed and hard. Maybe I got my eye on the right guy after all." One hand braced against my shoulder blade, the other sliding down my spine like a promise. The heat of her body was suffocating, her breath on my neck setting my skin alight. I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when her knee rubbed against my ass, when her fingers hooked into the waistband of my boxers and tore them down with the same rough efficiency she used for everything else. "Now that’s a sight," she purred. "Christ, you’re already dripping." Her tongue flicked between her lips, but she didn’t ask again. Just leaned in, her teeth catching on my earlobe before she pulled back. "I’ll make you scream, Wrench. Just like that rig does for the rest of ‘em."

Her knee shimmied between my shoulders, forcing them down until my face pressed into the cold rim of the sink. The faucet was running—she’d turned it on while I was frozen under her scrutiny—but the water only trickled, leaving the porcelain slick beneath my lips. “Keep your mouth open,” she breathed, fingers curling around the base of my cock. “Just a little, like you’re about to take a hit of diesel on a cold morning.” The drag was rougher now, slow and deliberate, her thumb pressing into my balls before she let them roll free. She hummed, amused, when I shuddered. “Such a greedy hole. Makes me wonder what you’ll do when I stretch it.” Her fingers left a wet trail up my thigh as she reached behind me, the blunt edge of a blade glinting in the harsh fluorescent light. I didn’t know what she was doing—couldn’t track it—but the moment she pressed the heated metal against my skin, I froze. Not from fear. From anticipation. “You’re not gonna fight me?” she taunted, the blade tracing the crease of my inner thigh. I shook my head, my breath misting the mirror. Her laugh was a ragged growl. “Smart. ‘Cause I want to see you try.” The first cut burned. Not enough to break me, but deep enough to know she meant it. Her teeth found my neck again, harder this time, while the blade drew a slow line up my spine, leaving the promise of something even sharper behind. My cock pulsed, and then her hands were there, pulling me apart, spreading me open with no more finesse than the rest of it. The air hit my hole like a slap, but her weight didn’t lift—just shifted, her knee rubbing deeper, her free hand slick with lube as it pressed against me. “This ain’t gonna be easy,” she warned, her voice thick, her lips brushing my pulse. “You’ll scream. They’ll hear.” I braced myself, fingers digging into the sink’s edge. The first push was brutal, her hand forcing its way in like it was reclaiming what it had lost. I clenched around her knuckles, but she didn’t care—just grunted, pleased, and then pulled back enough to slick me over again. “Fucking hell,” she hissed, fingers sliding into the rim of my waistband. “Look at you—so ready for me like you’ve been waiting all damned day.” The faucet cut off. No more excuses.

And then she said I'm going to suck your big cock and your are going to suck my hairly pussy and you never did before you are going to learn now

Her free hand grabbed my neck, fingers tightening not quite enough to cut off my air. "You never did before," she agreed, voice rough with something darker than amusement. The soap went cold against my slicked lips when she twisted them, forcing me to open wider. "Guess you’re gonna learn." Lube dripped down my ass, seeping into the crease where her knee pressed. She didn’t wait. Her hand gripped my cock like she’d owned it, and then her mouth was there—hot, brutal, tongue a wet, flicking tease along the underside. I gasped, taste of pipe grease and salt still clinging to her lips as she hummed around my shaft, saliva slicking the way for her first deep, choking pull. The other hand left my waistband, fingers trailing up my ribs, thumb catching under the curve of my tit. Not gentle. Not teasing. Just a firm reminder that she held all the power as she forced me to my knees and onto the tiles, head bent between her legs. "Now show me those teeth," she snarled, the scent of diesel and leather thicker when she kicked my jeans aside. "First hit’s mine." I hesitated, just long enough for her to twist the blade deeper into my side. The sting bloomed, sharp and electric, but she didn’t draw first blood—just dragged the edge down my hip, until the metal was pressed against my inner thigh. "Suck," she ordered, voice gone gravel. "Like you’re starved." I opened, breath hitching when she let the blade go. Her fingers tangled in my hair, yanking until my scalp burned, and then her weight descended, hips splitting above me. The first taste of her was harsh—sweat, engine oil, something bitter and *hers*—and I swallowed faster, tongue tracing the thin line of hair between her thighs. "Fuck me," she demanded, "if you even think you can handle it." I proved her wrong the second my mouth closed around her clit.

And then she I'm going to fuck you until you can't stand and my creamy pussy will drown your cock and then I will make you lick every drop after

The air left my lungs in a choked gasp—her clit thickened against my tongue, the first real taste of her heat flooding my senses. My grip around her thigh tightened, nails scraping the rough fabric of her jeans as she ground against me, her breath a ragged curse. *"Damn it, you fucking *own*—"* The words came out slurred, half drowned in the wet drag of her skin against mine. The blade was gone now, replaced by her fingers tangling through my hair like a lead, pulling my head down harder with every rough syllable. Her pussy was already slick, the scent of her arousal thick enough to choke on—leather, diesel, and the musky tang of her own body, something *primed* and hungry. My tongue darted again, lapping the swollen button while my hand fumbled blindly, searching for her slick opening. She didn’t fight me. In fact, she *shoved* herself down, my palm catching on the hot, wet seam of her slit. *"That’s it,"* she snarled, her fingers flexing in my hair, just enough to hurt. *"Just like that."* My fingers slid into her, knuckles brushing the coarse, hair-fringed edge of her cunt as she bucked against my mouth. The lube on my chin made everything slipperier, and I swallowed around her, tasting the slickness spill down my throat before it hit my tongue again. "Fuck—"* Her hips twitched, pushing my fingers deeper. *"You get one more second to work before I ride that pretty mouth."* I groaned against her clit, my teeth grazing the flesh just hard enough to make her jerk. The next thing I knew, my jeans were torn away, and her knee was between my shoulders again—brutal, unforgiving. I braced for impact. *"Take me,"* she demanded, fingers slicked with fresh lube as she forced my mouth open again. *"Or I’ll make sure you do this *once*."*

And then she said well look at that swollen cock I think it's ready to get my creamy pussy and then she slowly put the head of my cock and she started teasing her pussy and she said this is really going to be good and then she said I'm going tear your cock in me

The head of my cock was trapped between her heavy, glistening lips—just the tip, slick with her arousal and the lube still dripping from my skin. She rocked her hips forward, the pressure of her inner walls crushing me against her entrance in a single, punishing press. The initial stretch was brutal, my mouth still full of her taste as she took me deeper with a sharp, clawing drag of her nails down my back. *"Fuck—"* A choked gasp escaped me, my breath hitching when she swallowed me whole, her throat flexing around my shaft like a damn vice. You’re so goddamn thick—"* her voice broke, raw and strained. *"Going to split me open."* Her grip tightened in my hair again, yanking my head up until I was gasping against her damp skin. Fingers dug into my ribs, nails grazing my collarbone, before her hands were on my shoulders, shoving me down. The first thrust hit me like a truck—her hips pistoned forward, impaling me on her slick, burning cunt. The wet drag of her pussy against the base of my shaft made my teeth rattle, the sound of her thighs slapping against my ears muffled by the needy, sloppy noises I couldn’t help making. *"Jesus—"* I choked, my hands flying to her hips, trying to slow her down, but she just laughed, rough and smug. *"No, it’s *me*, honey."* Her fingers came down like hammers on my shoulders, her knee digging into my spine. *"You’re gonna learn."*

Her inner walls clenched around me with every violent downstroke, milking my cock in relentless, suffocating waves as her breath came in short, ragged bursts against my neck. The creamy cum flooding her pussy was thick, hot—spilling over my shaft and down my abs in slow, heavy trails. I groaned, my jaw slack, my fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick, shifting flesh of her hips. She didn’t let up. *"Fucking hell—"* Her voice cracked, the words raw. *"You feel that, you bastard? Every second of it."* Her claws dragged lower this time, ripping through the cotton of my undershirt as she slammed me back down, her cunt grinding against my shaft in a way that made my eyes Roll. Her hands clawed my back, gripping hard enough to bruise, but I didn’t stop her. Christ no—*I couldn’t*—my cock was already buried in her slick, pulsing heat, every thick drag of cum against my skin dragging a stuttering moan from my throat. She reared back, her pussy pulling almost all the way off me before crunching back down with a wet, suffocating *pop* that made her gasp. *"That’s right,"* she hissed. *"Take it."* A new pressure built between her spread thighs, a need that wasn’t all hers. *"You’re gonna—fuck—"* her sentence broke, her nails biting into my skin as she rode me through the cum, the friction of her inner walls dragging my own pleasure into something so much *less* than I wanted to give. *"Not yet,"* she growled, her voice tight with control. *"Not until I’m ready to choke you out."*

And she rode my cock like she never had any before and her beautiful breast rubbing my face and my cock was out of control

She arched back, her cunt grinding down with a wet, desperate abandon—like she was trying to *burn* my cock into her with every thrust. Her nails dug deeper into my back, not for purchase now but for leverage, her thighs locking around my waist like a steel cage. *"You’re gonna—just gonna—"* she choked, her breath hot and broken against my shoulder blade. The shift in rhythm was brutal, her pussy twisting around me in sharp, greedy jerks. I couldn’t help it—my hips bucked up, slamming into her, but she just laughed, low and vicious, before yanking my hair and forcing me down again. Her breasts were heavy and flushed, nipples brushing the curve of my jaw with every panting drag. My tongue flickered out, just once, to trace the slick underswell of one before she hissed in my ear, *"Again."* The word wasn’t a question. I lapped greedily, teeth grazing the tight, swollen peak as she rode me, her pussy fluttering around my shaft like it was desperate for *more*, for *everything*. I groaned, my cock twitching wildly against the suction of her cunt. *"Fuck—you—"* My words turned to spittle against her neck, my hands finally finding her waist, fingers digging into the dip where her hips met my ass. She didn’t care. Her pussy was a furnace, her arousal not just thick and wet but *alive*, pulsing around me like a heartbeat. *"Take it,"* she snarled again, her free hand clawing down my chest, her nails leaving red crescents against my ribs. *"Every goddamn inch."*

My cock felt like a balloon inside of her creamy pussy and my body started to shake and I was about to fill her creamy wet pussy up and I didn't know how long it's could hold off

I didn’t know how long I could hold off. The air in the room turned thick, my pulse hammering in my ears as her pussy clenched around me like a vise, not just swallowing my cock but *holding* it—trapped, swelled, every drag of her inner walls making it feel twice its size. Her breath hitched, her thighs locking tighter, the friction of her arousal slicking our skin together in a soundless rhythm. I hissed through clenched teeth, my fingers digging into her waist as my body betrayed me, tensing up like it was fighting its own surrender. *"That’s right,"* she whispered, the venom in her voice gone, replaced by something hungry, possessive. *"Just for me."* Her nails traced slow, deliberate lines down my back, her cunt milking me with every grind of her hips. *"Cum for me, you filthy thing."* Her head fell back, throat exposed, the pulse there thrumming like a second heartbeat. *"Fucking hell—give it to me."* The last word cracked, her pussy squeezing so tight I nearly blacked out. My breath turned ragged, my cock throbbing against the relentless drag of her walls. *"God—"* The admission was a whisper, a groan, my fingers gripping the skin there like she was the last lifeline I’d ever need. *"You’re gonna—"* I couldn’t finish, not when her cunt twisted around me, the suction so goddamn *good* that my cock ached with every twist. *"I can’t—"* *"Can’t what?"* Her hand slapped my cheek, forcing my gaze to hers. *"Can’t fucking finish inside me?"* The question was a dare, her pussy fluttering with a sharp, demanding need. I groaned, the denial dying on my tongue. *"Fuck—"* She silenced me with a bruising kiss, her cum slicking our lips together before she pulled away, leaving a trail of wet heat. *"Then do it."* Her voice was a dark command, her teeth grazing my bottom lip as her pussy clenched—once, twice—a slow, deliberate draw. *"Cum inside me, you bastard."*

And i did and after that she said dam your young cock really did well and we got dressed and it was time for her leave

The release was a fucking *explosion*—my cock spurring deep into her, the grip of her pussy dragging every last drop from my balls. She moaned into my neck, her teeth sinking just enough to make me see stars before licking the sting away like a promise. *"Good boy,"* she purred, her voice roughened by the aftershocks of her own orgasm, still clenching around me, pulling me in deeper by reflex. My hips rolled involuntarily, riding the waves of her body. A dark chuckle rumbled against my lips before she broke away, her nails ghosting down my spine one last time. The wet sound of her pussy finally loosening filled the air, my cock slipping out with a long, slow drag that left me breathless. She adjusted her skirt in one practiced motion, her fingers tracing the damp warmth there—not for modesty, but to *press* it into my skin, the scent of her arousal still clinging to me like a curse. *"Clean your mess."* Her voice was firm, but the hunger beneath was still raw. Her gaze flicked down to my chest, where stains were spreading, and then back up. *"And don’t think I’m not taking that home with me—"* a pause, her lips quirking— *"*one way or another*."* She turned on her heel, the click of her heels echoing like a threat in the quiet room. I watched her go—her ass swaying just enough behind the crisp fabric, her cum dripping down her thigh like evidence of something *too* good to hide. My fingers trembled at the first button of my shirt, the idea of what was coming next still *thick* in the air. I didn’t move until she was gone, until the door clicked shut. Then I finished—knees spread, cock still slick with her, fingers circling the base, the last of my cum staining the sheets like a confession.