I’ve been driving Lorries for thirty-five years now. There isn’t a county I haven’t been to or a major company I haven’t driven for; I know I’ll do it until the day I die. I haven’t been home often enough to have a meaningful relationship, let alone raise children; I’d also say that I’m scared of long term commitment. That isn’t to say I’m lonely when it comes to women. I consider myself to be still good looking, now 56 and at 6'1, I still maintain a solid build and regularly swim. My greying streaky hair and grey facial stubble gave me a distinguished look, and I’m more than experienced with matters between the sheets.

Plenty of pretty ladies flirt with me and take him home. I’ve even gotten to know a few ladies, who are regulars at the pubs I visit along my common routes. They'd spot me and spend an hour talking and flirting before I’d leave with them, spending the rest of the night either fucking in their homes or my cab, before I’d head off early the next morning. More than one person has told me that one day I’ll tire of this lifestyle. But I literally don’t have a thing to complain about and I actually love it. Most things haven’t changed throughout the years. The main difference is the number of ladies flocking to my side. Nowadays, I’m the one who has to make an effort to talk to them. Many of them are happy to flirt and giggle, but only one in every ten girls I speak with, are willing to fuck an older man.

My latest load has taken me to the Devon/Cornwall border, on the outskirts of a city called Plymouth. There’s a petrol station just off the main road, where I can top up fuel and a spot where truckers can park for the night. There’s a pub and a truckers diner within walking distance; for me it’s perfect. I pull off the main road as the early evening sun is disappearing beyond the horizon, and I’m ready for a good meal, before I hit the pub for a few beers. Thankfully it’s not overly busy as I walk inside, theres a soft buzz in the air as a few diners are eating. I glance around and I’m spoken to by the waitress, who’s pouring someone a drink. She says, “Take a seat, mister. I'll be right over.”

OMG, you’re fucking hot! Already, I find it hard to take my eyes off of you. You’re petite with jet black shiny hair in a tidy bob; like a slightly shorter version of Uma Thurman’s in Pulp Fiction. You have multiple piercings in your cute little ears, upon those ears you adorn a pair of black framed glasses, an eyebrow piercing with a silver ring, a septum piercing hosting another silver ring. You have full heart shaped lips with black lipstick and piercing green eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so pretty before! You’re so tiny that I literally dwarf you. You have a tight but very short black top on, and I can make out your black bra straps on your shoulders. Your breasts are small but perky and I imagine them to be fairly firm.

I imagine that your nipples are pierced too. Your top is so tight, that I can make out your bellybutton jewellery and your flat tummy looks divine. You wear a typical black waitress skirt just above the knee, but it’s tight enough to accentuate your supple backside. Your ripped fishnet tights or stockings complement your look, which is nicely finished off with an apron around your slim waist and a pair of black commando boots. My eyes are sneakily all over you, I try to hide it, but something inside wants me to get caught. I feel my balls swirl as my busy little fish begin their battle for fresh air. There are no morals in play here, it’s a simple conundrum. You’re a gorgeous younger woman and I want you.

I choose the booth in the corner and sit with my back to the wall, giving me a nice view of the diner. The waitress doesn’t stand there to take an order from me as per usual, she simply slides up next to me. "My name's Scarlet; I'll be your waitress. What can I get you, mister?" "I'll take the cheeseburger. And a beer." I say trying to remain composed. "No problem, mister." You reply as you stand there looking at me, as if you’re waiting for me to say something. I close the menu, slip it back into its place, and say, "Name's Robby." Your smile widens, "let me know if I can get you anything else, Robby." With that said, you turn to walk away, your hips swaying which I naturally enjoy.

You place my drink on the table a minute or so later. With a smile you say, "Your beer," I nod, "Thanks, Sweety" You let out a small giggle and place your hand on the back of the booth beside my head and ask, "Who are you calling Sweety?" I smirk up at you. "I meant no offence." Your smile doesn’t waver. "I wouldn't say I am offended." I ask, "Is there something else you would prefer?" You lick your lips and tilt your head. "You could use my name?" Still looking up but now into your eyes, “that’s no fun, is it?” You let out a soft chuckle. "What are my other options?" I tap my chin, pretending to think about it. "How about love? Honey? Sweet Cheeks? Darling or hot stuff?" You shake your head. "You don't have anything better?" I chuckle, "I guess not, Sweety." You sigh, "Well, if I have to choose, I think hot stuff is pretty cool." I give you a wink. "Sure, hot stuff." You laugh as you move away from my booth and back towards the counter.

It hasn’t been my intention to find a pretty younger lady to fuck tonight, but Scarlet is gorgeous. I can’t remember the last time I’d been lucky enough to fuck such a pretty girl. But you don’t seem like the type, though. Sure, you smiled at me and flirted a little. But, you’re no doubt hoping that the older lonely guy leaves you a tip. The cook shouts "Order up,” and I watch you go to the window and take the food. You bring me the burger, "Here you go, Sweety." I chuckle. "I appreciate it, hot stuff. Looks great, it’ll be even better if you joined me." I gesture to the seat across from me. I see you bite down on your lower lip as you say, "My shift finishes in 30 minutes. If you want to wait, I'll join you." "I've got nowhere to be, hot stuff," I say as I feel my balls beginning to swirl.

Feeling pleased with myself, I wonder how far I can push it. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable after how nice you’ve been to me. I just need to ensure I don’t get my signals crossed. Scarlet is a sweet girl and I’d never complain when a pretty girl wants to spend time with me, even if it is just to talk. I finish my meal and pay, then I pop outside for a cigarette. I keep glancing inside and spotting you, almost every time I look you’re watching me. You smile when I catch you watching me before moving off. Suddenly you appear alongside me with a bag over your shoulder. You say, "Do you want to stay here? Because there's a pub not too far, and I could do with a drink." I nod, "I never say no to a pretty lady buying me a drink." You scoff. "Who said I was buying?" "Well, if that's the case, I'll buy you a drink." Then you grin, "How could I say no. Did you bring a car?" I reply, "I've got my truck parked just over there.”

"You're a truck driver?" You enquire. I nod, "All my life." "Seriously?" You say as you start to walk towards the pub, which means you have to pass by my lorry. I say, "Started young and never stopped. I live out of a duffle bag nine months out of the year." "That sounds lonely." You frown. "Not at all. I enjoy my transient life. I get to see the whole country." I reply. "So does that mean you don't have a family? No wife? No kids?" "Nope." I shake my head. "I've never been in one place long enough to have a relationship, and I never wanted kids." "So it's just you?" “Yep.” I respond. "What about you?" "I live with my mum and my little sister." "No boyfriend?" "No. I was seeing someone." "Didn't go well?" “Not really, younger guys suck and they can’t even do that properly!”

I ask, "Where's this pub?" You stop and spin around to face me. A cheeky grin appears on your face as you clasp your hands behind your back. You say, "I changed my mind. It might sound stupid, but I've never been in a truck before, and I was curious to see what your cab looks like." I lick my lips. That has to be the biggest 'I want you’ hint I’ve ever heard. No girl wants to see a man's truck unless she wants his cock. But then again, there could always be someone. Just because I’ve never met someone who doesn’t want cock, it doesn’t mean you aren’t genuine. Either way, it’s a step closer to what I’m looking for. "Alright, you can have a look."

I take my keys from my pocket and l lead you to my truck. The area is mostly quiet. There are only a few streetlights; none were anywhere close to my truck. And only one other truck was parked, and it was on the other side of the car park. I pull open the door and nod my head. "Up you get." You smile widely and reach out. You grasp the handle and hoist yourself up. Your uniform swishes as you climb up, your butt sticking out, giving me a clear view of your pink panties. My cock twitches at the site. I swallow and shake my head, telling my body to behave before I hoist myself up. As you stand in the small space between the chairs, you drop into my seat. You looked amazing, "I didn't realise you had a bed," you said. Then you look me straight in the eyes and press your hand on the mattress.

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Hello. Playing the waitress at the truckers diner gives you the chance to play literally anyone you like. You can be an up and coming lawyer or a student; it doesn’t matter, we see many walks of life working in catering to supplement their incomes. It also means that you’re at liberty to wear what you like, as long as it kind of resembles a waitress’s uniform of sorts. You don’t have to look like my description, you can look just as you are right now, blonde, brunette, redhead or jet black.

Whoever you are and whatever you wear, in my mind you’re hot. But do you know it? Can you tell after being in the same diner as me for a few minutes. Do you notice my eyes all over your sexy little body, not touching you at all, but thinking how I am going to mark that flesh with my seed. Do you taunt or tease me. Do you engage with me and serve my table. Do you even like older guys. Do you wait outside for me when your shift has finished. Somehow, you’ve found yourself sitting on the bed in the back of my cab. There are a myriad of reasons as to how you’ve ended up here. However, what are you going to do now. Say thanks for showing you my cab and go and get that beer, or whatever.

I’m from the UK. 56, 6.1 ft tall, big build but not overweight, hazel eyes, short dark hair with grey streaks, greying facial hair, nice looking and big hands with long fingers. Distinguished looking I guess. Hairy chest, tummy, arms and legs. Big feet. I’m good fun, an avid listener, kind and respectful. I have a dark, dry and sarcastic sense of humour and usually succeed in making people laugh. I’m kinky and maybe a bit perverted and this needs to be explored. Lately I’ve been obsessed with women in their 20s, which has hit me full in the face. Maybe I’m going through the whole male menopause thing, I don’t know.

kinks; younger women, age difference, size difference, outfit control, heels, stockings, thigh highs, crotchless panties, swearing, dirty talk, name calling, East Asian women, frenulum play, cum play, toy play, remote vibrators, edging, orgasm denial, manipulation, gas lighting, public sex, public touching, spanking and dominance (depending on my mood).

Dislikes: beatings, piss, shit, gore, scat, feet, switchers, Ghosts

(I am 18 and all participants and characters must be 18 ) Please don’t respond with just ‘hi’ ‘how are you today’ ‘what are you doing’ or ‘what’s your name.’ I put a lot of effort into my prompts and writing. So at least act like you’ve read this. Use the words (BURGER) in your first message. Surprisingly I do get a lot of requests, so please bear with me; I like to respond.