Still very moved by my port adventure (read my previous adventure), I had to take the road back to my Alps, from Brittany. My sea bass with powerful jerks had left me so feminine that I had decided to take the road as a girl, to stay in the mood. After all, what was I risking? Crossing France by car through regions where I didn't know anyone couldn't get me into trouble. In the unlikely event of an ID check, after all, we dress how we want…I returned to my apartment on Saturday in Paimpol, and spent a night in a hotel near Nantes. Sunday morning, so here I am getting into the car, little narrow and short skirt, very thin tights, white t-shirt molding my large silicone breasts. Big dark glasses over my eyes, a black headband to hold up my long red hair, and keep it from flying into my eyes under the effect of the wind rushing in through the half-open window.Indeed, I chose the national roads rather than the anonymous highway. First stop at the Claude-Bonnier rest area, a little after Angoulême. Great moment of anxiety, a bus stopping with teenagers in the parking lot (obviously a summer camp) and a lot of motorhomes… But it goes, despite my large size, my round trip to the toilet goes unnoticed. Finally, I think… enough to reassure me about my appearance and my attitude.The Jalette area, an hour later, was to prove a terrible ambush. I had prepared my picnic (no pun intended), for lack of daring to sit down at the restaurant. But it was a summer Sunday… This huge car park, with quite a bit of shade, was filled with a few vacationers, but above all with trucks blocked there by the traffic ban. I almost gave up, but hey, I was hungry. What had to happen happened: a driver more in search than the others noticed me.I hadn't seen any of his interest, but I quickly understood when he deftly maneuvered himself into the doorway of the women's room as I came out after my little meal. Right when no one else was visiting them. A force of nature, of Slovenian nationality (I found out later), even bigger than me, whose arm seizing my elbow guided me without my being able to say “phew”. I wasn't really in a position to make a scandal, by the way...His truck was a few tens of meters away, parked in the shade, a little far from the others. He opened the passenger side door and literally pushed me inside without my thinking of running away, flabbergasted by his vigor and determination. "Not smart to come here for a girl like you," he said, following me, "me away at home, not fuck a week."I tried to argue: “but I'm not…” “You think I don't know? was his only response, "mouth and ass OK." Mass was said.I was lucky it was clean. I noticed it right away as his right hand weighed on my neck to direct my face towards an already inflated Bermuda shorts, which the left was beginning to open. The truncheon which springs from the underpants made me widen my eyes in surprise, less by its size, admittedly imposing, than by its very apparent veins, a real sculpture that I quickly surrounded with my fingers, before putting my mouth on the end . The hand continuing to press on my neck, my lips had to open and that's when, subjugated, I began to pump him, greedily, without him having to impose anything on me anymore. whether it be.I felt under my tongue the relief of his throbbing veins, the influx of blood into t ...

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