[Patreon Exclusive] ONLY GIRLS GET A RIDE: Chapter 1 (Patreon)

Truckers have an unwritten rule when it comes to hitchhikers: only girls get a ride. And as Frankie learns early on in his trucking career, that ride doesn’t come without a little bit of what truckers like to call, “compensation”.

When Frankie finds himself stranded in middle of nowhere, he remembers that unwritten rule: only girls get a ride. Luckily, there’s an old abandoned house nearby with a closet full of women’s clothing, just off a busy trucking route.

Chapter 1

“Only girls get a ride,” Eric said to me as we drove past a male hitchhiker out in the middle of nowhere. It was a trucking route, and that was the unwritten law of the road: only girls get a ride. The poor bastard didn’t have a chance. It would take him days to walk the fifty miles to the nearest town. “Not our problem,” Eric said.

“Why just girls?” I asked. It was my first week on the job. Eric was assigned to train me, not that there was much to learn. I already knew how to drive a truck. I think the training week was more of a liability thing—or maybe it was to make sure I was mentally stable.

“First off, men can be dangerous. We’ve had trucks stolen before. Women don’t steal trucks,” Eric said, scratching his beard. “Second off, girls return the favour. Men don’t. It’s all about the compensation.” It took me a moment to realize what he was saying when he said ‘compensation’. Did he really mean sexual compensation? Turns out, he did, as I learned later that night.

It was around midnight when we rolled into the small town of Ludwig, Nevada. We stopped in at the local trucker bar for a drink before crashing for the night. There was a pretty, young lady there, and she came and sat down next to us. “Where y’all headed?” she asked.

“Los Angeles and then up to Seattle,” Eric said to the woman without looking at her.

“Any way I can get a ride to LA?” she asked.

Eric looked at me. “I think that’s up to Frankie here,” he said.

My heart skipped a beat and my body became tense. What was he expecting me to do? Straight up tell her to put out? Or was there some sort of secret trucker code I was supposed to adhere to? Was there more to the unwritten trucker rulebook that Eric hadn’t run me through yet? “Um, sure, I guess,” I said.

Eric looked at the woman and then he looked at me. He laughed and shook his head. “It’s the red truck with the big arrow on the side,” he said to the girl.

“Right on. I’ll see you out there,” she said, and then she left.

That tension was still in my body. Had I fucked it up? Had I given away a free ride without any of what Eric liked to call, ‘compensation’? I wanted to ask, but it was too embarrassing. I didn’t want him to think I was some desperate loser, just looking to get laid. And I really didn’t want any lady to think that I thought of them like a prostitute. “What are you waiting for, boy?” Eric asked, looking at me through narrowed eyes.

“Huh?” I said, my head still spinning with anxiety.

“Get out there,” he said. And then, after a moment of hesitation, I left the bar and went out to the truck, where my pretty, little lady awaited. “Took you long enough,” she said with a laugh. It took me a moment to overcome the lump in my throat and respond. “Sorry about that,” I said.

She was waiting by the trailer’s side door. Apparently, she knew about the sleeper cab that was at the far back of the trailer, where truckers caught a few hours of shuteye on those long stretches of highway between nowhere and nowhere. The bed wasn’t much, but it was fine for sleeping, and fine for fucking, too. Hell, I bet you it gets used more for fucking than sleeping, seeing as most trucking companies will gladly pay the motel bill.

When I opened the trailer door, she went straight to the sleeper cab and started to undress. “My name’s Mandy, by the way,” she said as she pulled her shirt over her head, letting her big, soft tits fall out. “Something wrong?” she asked. I was still in total shock at just how easy it was to get laid on the road. As I would discover over the next year, it was next to impossible to go more than a few days without having pussy thrown your way. There were half a dozen Mandys in every town, every bar, eagerly waiting to offer their bodies in exchange for a ride. “You new?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said.

She walked over to me and reached her arms around my neck, resting her forearms on my shoulders. She smelled real nice. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, darling,” she said, and then she kissed me, and my God were her lips soft as hell. The tension in my body quickly faded (it’s amazing what a woman’s touch can do). I let my hands fall onto her body. She was so warm, so soft. I squeezed one of her big tits gently. She reached down my pants and began to fondle my cock.

And in that moment I realized I had the greatest job on the planet. Sure, the pay wasn’t incredible and the hours were terrible, but the women—what else does a man really need? I bent Mandy over and I fucked her from behind. I don’t think I took my eyes off of her big, swinging tits the entire time. I had her moaning and screaming like no one’s business. Soon enough, she had me moaning. She pushed me back, spun around, and grabbed my cock in her hand seconds before I burst my load. She wanted in her mouth, and that’s where she got it.

It wasn’t even eight in the morning when Eric knocked on the door of the sleeper cab. “Time to wake up sunshine,” he called out. I’d fallen asleep with Mandy in my arms, her big, soft tits pressed against my chest. Neither of us woke up to the alarm on my phone, or the five hours of driving Eric had already done that morning. We were already in LA and it was time for Mandy to get out.

I took up my spot in the passenger seat as we started north, towards Seattle. Eric was quiet, eyes on the road. “Aren’t you interested to know how it went?” I asked, surprised he hadn’t asked.

He looked at me and then back to the road. “You’ve got a lot to learn yet,” he said. “You don’t talk about it,” he said. That was the second rule in the unwritten trucker’s rulebook: what happens on the road ain’t no one’s business but your own. Eric was right, I did have a lot left to learn. For instance, when a lady wanted to go further than five or six hours, she usually offered a little extra. For some boys that meant a night of fucking and some road-head later on, for others it meant getting access to the backdoor.

Some girls were bluntly open about it. “If you give me a ride all the way to St. Louis, I’ll let you cum in my ass,” one girl said to me, and let’s just say she got her ride to St. Louis. I’d never fucked a girl in the ass before that night. Her asshole was so tight, I almost wasn’t able to get my cock inside. And it only took a few pumps before she was moaning and groaning like I’d never seen before.

Then there were the midday hitchhikers. Have you ever noticed that you almost never see a lady hitchhiking? They’re a rare sight, and there’s a good reason for that. Truckers pick them up in a heartbeat. The midday hitchhikers are the ones who usually only want to get a few miles, a hundred at most. Usually, they would suck you off while you drove, and damn, some of them could do things with their tongues that you wouldn’t believe.