Copyright © 2015 Anita Rimmer
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, dialogue, and everything else are products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to people or events, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Author's Note
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Contents
Prologue
Week 1
Week 2
Weeks 3-5
Week 6
Week 7
Week 8
Week 9
Week 10
Week 11
Week 12
Week 13
Week 14
Week 15
Weeks 16-17
Week 18
Week 19
Week 20
Week 21
Weeks 22-23
Week 24
Week 25
Week 26
Week 27
Weeks 28-30
Weeks 31-34
Week 35
Weeks 36-37
Week 38
Week 39
Week 40
Week 41
Week 42
Week 43
Week 44
Week 45
Week 46
Epilogue
More From Anita
Prologue
When I look back at my life, I have few regrets. There are, of course, things I would do differently but the sum of all my parts have made me into who I am today and thus I wouldn't change even the darkest time of my life. Even our mistakes have something to teach us, and only through remembering our history do we learn to make better choices for our future.
When I was 19 I left home, mad at my parents and the world for imagined slights that were blown far out of proportion. I dropped out of college and hitchhiked my way across the country - it was a simpler time back then. You didn't have to worry about every stranger being an axe murderer, and people were still enjoying the idea of free love. I think the biggest fear people had were of some stray werewolf attacking you if you were caught out on your own, but I feel like even those fears were blow out of proportion. Most wolves had more to fear from men than vice versa. I always felt like they were just misunderstood.
Like I said, I was young and naive.
I would often take odd jobs here and there to earn some money, but eventually travelling all the time grew tiresome. So, soon after I turned 20, I found a small room at the back of a shifter bar that I could stay in for as long as I wanted. This place was pretty out of the way, buried off in the woods where only the weres would find it. It was rare to meet other humans here, other than the ones that worked here. Just to get here you had to park about a mile away at the nearest road and then follow a hidden path by foot. Unless you could run as a wolf or a bear, anyway.
I ended up spending almost a year there, and in that time I kept a diary that I would write in about once a week, depending on whether there was anything interesting going on to write about. As you'll soon see, there often was.
You see, Big Frank, the initial owner, only let me stay there rent free as long as I kept his customers happy. Truckers were often lonely and frustrated men that had spent too long driving solo across the country, but they had to stop and eat some time. There were truck stops littered along all of the interstates across the country that would offer them a meal or a quick shower. Frank wanted something that would make his truck stop stand out from all the rest. I was that something. I was the truck stop tramp.
I recently re-read my diaries and have decided to share the stories from that time. I spent a lot of years being ashamed of what I did back then, but I've since changed my opinion now that I'm older, and I actually have at least one big reason to never regret that time.
Most of all, though, I think there is power in knowledge, and I want others to learn from my past just as I have. I was so young and naive back then. If only I had known then what I know now, maybe those times wouldn't have been so dark. I may not have let myself be so used and degraded, or perhaps I would have found my way out a little bit sooner. At least before I sunk to the depths that I ended up in. But I eventually found my way out, with a little bit of help, and I'm stronger for it now.
So if you're interested, let me tell you my story of that time.
Week 1
I found a room at the Big Little Truck stop off of the I-95. The owner, Big Frank, told me I could stay for free as long as I helped "service" his customers. At first I thought he meant he wanted me to fill up their trucks with gas, but he soon cleared that up by unbuckling his pants as he explained he needed to first "sample the merchandise" to make sure it was "up to quality".
Normally I wouldn't care that much, this being the age of free love, after all, and I was no stranger to men or cocks. But big Frank wasn't called that because of what he carried in his pants. He was probably about 350 pounds and almost none of that extended to his pecker. I swear, as soon as he dropped his pants and undershorts I just looked at him and almost said "is that it?"
Needless to say, I dropped to my knees and gave old Frank the best five minutes he's probably had in years. I really did need a place to stay. I grabbed little Frank in my hand and gave him a couple of tugs. He got hard immediately and fortunately that added enough to him that I was able to get something into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around him a couple times and fondled his big sweaty balls. I honestly don't even know if he even lasted a full five minutes. It probably just felt that long. It's hard to judge time when you're sucking on something not much bigger than a double A battery with a massive belly resting on your head.
But for whatever Frank was missing in size, he made up for in volume. When he let his load loose, it shot out like a fire hose to the back of my throat. I almost gagged as I tried to swallow each spurt of the slimy goo as it sprayed forth. Luckily his dick wasn't taking up any extra room in my mouth, otherwise I would have made a mess on his office floor. As it was, I swallowed down every drop that hit my mouth and looked up at him afterwards, licking my lips.
"Anna," he said when I was done, "You're welcome to stay as long as you want." He even agreed to let me eat my meals in the little greasy diner he had attached to the stop, with no restrictions on the menu. I guess he knew that at about 100 pounds, I wasn't going to cost him much.
I spent most of this week getting acquainted with some of the regulars that big Frank would introduce me to. A couple of them brought me back to their trucks for a quick roll, nothing fancy. Most of them were almost as big as Frank but there were a couple of younger guys who were actually pretty hot. With those guys, I actually even enjoyed myself. But even the others weren't too bad. Sex is sex. It's always been something I generally enjoyed, and I could always close my eyes and pretend my partner is Prince Charming. Although usually Prince Charming isn't asthmatic with a hacking smokers cough.
Week 2
This week was a bit more rowdy. Big Frank decided that now that he had me working for him he needed to "spice things up" a bit. He barged into my room one evening and told me to follow him as he had a great new idea to show me. He brought me upstairs to the shower room. This was a room that he rented out cheaply to truckers that allowed them to take a shower before heading back out onto the road. Let me tell you, it was an idea I fully supported but that not nearly enough of his clientele took advantage of. It was a pretty small area, mainly just a small room to get changed, the shower, a closet and a to
ilet - but all totally private.
However, this shower area itself was not new. What was new was that Frank had cut a small hole in the change room right next to the maintenance closet. He called it his glory hole. He decided that if customers requested to use the shower room (and paid the small fee), they could also request to use the glory hole. They would stick their dick into the hole, and I would be on the other end ready to receive it.
The next day I was summoned upstairs almost before dawn. Frank pounded on my door and told me to run up and get into the closet. It took me a few moments to remember what it was he was talking about. I had barely rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and he had me up and out of bed, pushing my ass up the stairs. When I got up there I was alone, so I stumbled into the utility room and shut the door, turning the lock and sitting down on an old overturned pail. I didn't bother turning on the light, my eyes were happier in the dark after just having woken up. There was light enough coming through the little hole next to me anyway.
I wasn't wearing a watch, it was too dark to see one anyway, so I don't know how long I sat there before anything happened. It was long enough that I had just started to nod off again when a noise from the other side of the wall got my attention.
I shook myself awake and waited, not sure what to expect. I mean, I understood the logistics of what was supposed to happen but it was all new to me. I heard some shuffling around, but still nothing coming through the hole. Maybe the guy changed his mind. Would I be able to just leave? I didn't even really know the etiquette. I decided to take a peek through the opening and see what was going on. The pail I was sitting on was just the right height that I could stay on it and just move my head to get a good view. I stuck my eye towards the aperture and immediately got poked by something coming through.
I fell backwards in surprise, off of my pail and onto the floor. I lay there for a moment rubbing my eye with one hand and my now sore ass with the other. The room had all of a sudden plunged into darkness, all of the light from the other side of the wall now blocked by something.
I stood up off the floor and turned on the light. Not surprisingly, there was a cock sticking through the wall now, waiting patiently for some attention. I sat back down on my pail and looked at it. It was fairly large, it's bulbous mushroom shaped head had a purplish tint to it. I reached up slowly and grasped the warm shaft, feeling it already start to harden. It was odd, to see a penis coming from a hole in the wall without some hairy, sweaty trucker attached to it. It could be anyone on the other side of the wall, and I found that thought oddly exciting.
I gave the mystery cock a couple of quick rubs and then tentatively stuck out my little tongue and licked the tip. Immediately it jerked in my hand as it felt the sudden wetness. Emboldened, I licked it again from underneath, this time dragging my tongue slowly along the bottom of the shaft starting right at the wall and moving all the way to the head. His dick was very hard now, and I could already see a drop of pre-cum oozing from the tip. I licked it off and rolled it on my tongue. It tasted both sweet and salty at the same time, an odd combination that I actually found fairly pleasant. I wondered idly what he'd had for dinner last night since I'd read that diet could affect the taste.
Putting one hand firmly around the base to keep him still, I pushed my lips up against the head and opened them slowly as I slid forward, running them along the shaft while at the same time making circles around his hardness with my tongue. I pulled back and then forward again, all the way to my fist that still held him. I could totally get use to doing this. I didn't have to worry about someone pulling my hair, or jamming their cock deep enough down my throat to make me gag. Here I could completely control hot deep I took it or how fast I went.
Still, though, I didn't want this to take all day so I picked up my pace and removed my hand, letting my mouth take in a little bit more but still allowing me to keep it at a comfortable level.
Without any other visual or auditory cues, it was fairly difficult to tell just how far along this guy was. Usually I could tell when a guy was getting close because he would pull my head down harder or push a little deeper with his hips. If I was grabbing his balls, they may tighten right before he came. As it was, the only warning I got was a slight swelling of the cock in my mouth, followed by a quick spasm and then my mouth was filled with sweet and salty cum. I swallowed as much of it down as I could but let the rest spill out from around my mouth as I realized he couldn't see anyway.
As soon as I removed my mouth, the cock disappeared from the hole. I found some rags in the closet and wiped up the mess on the floor and wondered what I should do. Am I supposed to leave now, or hang out until he leaves? I didn't actually want to run into whoever it was on the other side. I figured my imagination was almost assuredly better than the reality, and I shuddered at the thought of having to stand around now and make small talk with the guy.
I gave it a few more minutes and then quickly peeked through the hole again, this time a little bit more carefully. I didn't see anyone on the other side, so I stood up and opened the door. I was alone. I made my way back downstairs and went back to sleep.
Frank came to get me two more times that day, and then multiple times every day for the rest of the week. I still had regular trysts inside of trucks as well, but it seemed like this new idea of his was quickly becoming a favorite of some of his regulars.
Weeks 3-5
Not much has happened in the last couple of weeks, other than I've been very busy sucking dick and fucking fat truckers. Big Frank's truck stop has had a noticeable jump in business since I started sleeping in his extra room and to be honest, I've been starting to feel a bit like he's taking advantage of me. Yes, he lets me live in this room without paying rent and eat for free at the restaurant, but he doesn't give me anything else. I have no money to do anything with in the little time I have to myself, and what's worse is that means I also can't save any money in order to ever stop doing this. I'm starting to feel like a prostitute with a big fat pimp. I'm going to talk to Frank and let him know I want to start getting paid something or I'm hitching the next ride out of here. Wouldn't be hard to go any place in the country, really, since I'm obviously willing to use my body as currency and these truckers are all buying what I have to sell.
Week 6
So I spoke to Frank and he actually ended up agreeing with me and paying me an extra $75 a week on top of the room and board. I'm pretty happy, that's the most I've ever made doing anything. I guess Frank is doing better than I thought.
The only downside is that he said that if he was going to pay me he would expect that I would start to go "above and beyond". I asked what he meant by that, but he wasn't very explicit. He just mumbled something about how he'd been sheltering me from the worst of it but that if I wanted to make money then I could start doing the real "dirty work". I still have no clue what he means as not much has changed this week.
Week 7
So I finally understand what Frank was talking about and I'm wondering whether I should go back to our old arrangement. I'm not sure $75 is really worth some of the shit I've had to put up with this week, and I use the word "shit" intentionally.
It started a few days ago when he sent me up to the shower room but told me that someone was already waiting for me up there. That was a bit different, since from what I understood, the general excitement that guys were getting from the glory hole was that of the unknown. It could be anyone back there sucking their dick, and that person could do anything with them. Of course, most of them knew that I was the one back there, but even still, these big burly truckers were naked and vulnerable and at the mercy of someone less than half their size.
Still, if the guy wanted to see me first then that was fine. I was pretty proud of the way I looked. I climbed the stairs to the top and let myself into the room. The small changing area was empty, so I figured the guy was in the shower or something, although I didn't hear the water running.
"Umm, hello?" I called out.
"I
n here," I heard a man grunt out. His voice sounded a bit strained, as if he was lifting something. I walked into the shower area but as I did I had to pass by the little alcove that held the toilet. From the corner of my eye I saw movement, so I turned to look.
"Oh my god," I exclaimed, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were..." There was a tall man sitting with his pants around his ankles and a look on his face that told me he was clearly in the middle of doing his business. I started to turn around but he called out to stop me.
"Wait," he said.
I paused, already turned away from him to make my way out the door.
"Come here," he said.
What? "Umm, excuse me?" I asked, still not moving.
"Come over here," his voice was a little firmer now.
I wasn't sure what he wanted, maybe he was out of toilet paper or something? I started to walk backwards but he stopped that as well.
"Turn around."
I slowly spun on my heel and looked at him. I could tell he was tall because of how much his upper body towered over the toilet and how far his knees stuck out in the position they were in. He was actually pretty solidly built as well, not fat like a lot of the other truckers. He had on a jean jacket and a plaid shirt, but his pants and underwear were pushed right down around his tan work boots. He also had very hairy legs and knees.
Dirty Diaries: A Darkly Erotic Novel Page 1
