A Perfect Day


Chuck prowls the lots for lizard of all sorts. Don’t matter to Chuck; he’d barebacked his way across the nation without qualms of ever comin’ up a failure. Success to Chuck was measured in miles and loads….

Presently, Chuck was at Lindys, a dive stop north of Telusa by way of 95. Chuck parked his rig, hopped out on the pavement and strutted like a man on a mission. That mission was pussy. He’d been to Lindys before, rode a few dames here years back, but the new Chuck was all about fresh faces.

“What’s new darling?” Chuck said to the red-headed waitress with the big gums and wide eyes.

“Nuthin mister, what ken I do ya fer?”

“Looking for ass. Who’s open? Got any coloreds?”

“Mister, you in luck. Daisy should be dun any minute now.” The truck stop toilet door opened and out sauntered a dame dipped in molasses, taking long and slow strides, wiping jizz off of her lips and face with her jean jacket. She was black as night. She hawked the corn rows and a nose, wide on all sides.

“‘Chall talkin jibe out hear?” Daisy’s john, the skinny feller with the thin ‘stash, followed, zipping his pants, awkward to the attention. He slinked out the door, muttering.

Chuck piped up, “That’s what I’m talking about. How much?”

“50!” Daisy responded like a kneejerk. She was a pro.

“50?” Chuck gasped, ”Pssshh, whatchoo think this is, Beverly Hills or some shit? Twenny.” Chuck was no spring chicken himself.

“Nah, fuck that. Won’t fo less then fowtee,” Daisy set her perceived bottom line.

“What fowty get me?”

“Get you a suck….. ann a fuck.”

“Well, I juss wanna fuck. 30 cool?” Chuck laid his last card on the table.

“Money first.”


Chuck handed over three crumpled bills he’d had ready in his pocket. Daisy opened the truck stop toilet for Chuck, who was unzipping as the door closed.

Chuck drove his cock home bareback into Daisy’s black hole from behind. The event horizon made Chuck’s cock cum hard, like a dying quasar. His prostate was denser than a neutron star. He zipped up and bought a pack of Levi Garrett chewing tobacco on his way out. Life was good.

Possibly too good.


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