Julianne's car runs out of gas.

A little further down the road, my engine quit, and I rolled to a stop on the side of the road. I didn't lose my temper. I was more self conscious about my outfit, and who the next person who sees me wearing this will be.

I sat in my car and watched several cars go by. I caught glimpses of some of their faces.

"Want a blowjob for a tank of gas?" I thought while glancing at their 60 mile an hour visages.

I did the obvious thing. I got out and sat on the hood, looking defeated. Exactly five cars went by, when a semi slowed and parked at the sight of me.

Just my fucking luck. Trucker cock. Not that I'm familiar. Maybe I can avoid any sexual contact, or just and handy?

The door of his tall ass big rig clicked open and down climbed what I expected: a chubby and smelly looking man wearing aviators. He walked up to me and showed his driven out face up close.

"I'm Larry. Larry Miller," he said and held out his right hand.

The hand he uses to jerk off with, probably. He jerks off all the time. I can tell. I grabbed it and shook it once. It was moist. Hot day. I was already covered in a hundred degree sweat.

"Julianne," I said. "I'm out of gas."