Plus, the women are ten times better than the groupies who greeted us at every city when we were at away games. Those women often had caked-on make-up, bleached blonde hair, and a classless way about them. We thought being a long-haul trucker would be the same.
But it’s been a step up, actually. At first, Andrew and I were using professionals at different rest stops. It’s not a big deal actually, and some of the women are quite attractive. My favorite was Marion over in Baytree. She was on the older side, but what she lacked in youth, she made up for in attitude. Her curves were generous and plump, and she’d let us do anything we wanted to her body. She let us turn her upside down with me drilling her mouth while Andrew tongued her kitty. Then I’d erupt between her lips, and my friend would take her ass, before pummeling my ass.
After all, Andrew and I are bisexual. It means that we like to enjoy a woman together, but we also like to enjoy one another’s bodies. Sometimes, we pull into a rest stop, and there’s no need to call the Lodge or summon a professional. Instead, he’ll hop from his cab into mine, or vice versa, and we’ll devour each other’s bodies. It’s nice to have a hard male member to suck at night, and he stretches my back hole like no one else.
But we still enjoy being with women, and we’ve been looking for a woman to join us ever since we joined Dads and Daughters. We’ve definitely been keeping our eyes peeled, and Dads and Daughters has a nice collection. There are sweet, willing girls everywhere, and quite a few have real curves, which is what we prefer. When you’re getting manhandled by two men, you need some serious poundage to keep up. Thin girls end up getting broken when dealing with two male animals who pull out all the stops.
But we haven’t found anyone yet. There was Sienna, who was very promising, but she was snatched up by Jock and Jack. Then there was Natalie, but fucking Gascon and Gary got in the way. Both girls have been claimed now, and we’re not sure who else might be open to the idea of a MMF bisexual ménage. After all, this isn’t your usual hook-up. This is a real relationship with two men who adore your curves, but also one another.
But right now, we just need to get laundry done. Both Andrew and I stink to high heaven, and we’re probably offending everyone we pass in the halls. Grumbling, we make our way into the brightly lit, open space of the laundry room and look around. It’s huge. The walls and ceiling are a blinding white, and the floor is a polished concrete. The room is filled with dozens of laundry machines of all different shapes and sizes. There are small ones that are stacked like shoeboxes on top of one another. Then there are medium washers and dryers, lined up in a row like the Three Bears. Last of all, there are the extra large washers over in one corner of the laundry room that appear as big as a house. Literally, you could fit all Three Bears into the machine, and then close the door with no problem.
But that’s where the similarity to a regular laundry room stops because this is Dads and Daughters, where anything goes. Plus, the Lodge spares no expense when it comes to the pleasure of its members, and the laundry room is no exception.
Black rubber grips decorate the walls, in case you need something to hold onto while you ride one of the machines. There are even a few protruding dildos of different sizes attached to the wall at strategic heights. Hell, there’s even one pointing straight up from the floor, in case a girl decides she wants to ride it while waiting for her clothes to dry.
There’s also a laundry line strung across the back, except that the string appears made of a thick, tensile material and not some flimsy cotton floss. A big slop sink is in the corner, and I’m sure there are dozens of fun toys in there. There must be more hidden in the closet on the side as well, waiting to be used and enjoyed.
But Andrew and I aren’t here for fun. We’re here to get clean because frankly, I can’t stand the stench anymore. We take up positions by one of the huge washers in the corner, and strip.
“Fuck, I forgot to bring extra clothes,” I curse. “What do we do?”
Andrew shrugs.
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to sneak back to our rooms in our birthday suits. I hope no one sees,” he says.
I roll my eyes. We’re both hung and studly, but there’s no reason to strut around naked because we’re not exhibitionists at heart. Unfortunately, we have no clean clothes on hand either. What to do? I’m about to filch some sheets from another dryer, when suddenly the sound of sweet humming fills our ears. Is someone else here?
