Daniela, The Smoking Road Jockey

(by Delta Dolphin, 16 May 2007)


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DANIELA, THE SMOKING ROAD JOCKEY

Howdy, y'all! I'm a truck driver and my handle is Delta Dolphin. Although I
am a non smoker, I have a smoking fetish and it turns me on every time I see
a beautiful lady smoke.

I'm not a very educated man and I'm sure that I express myself more clumsily
than you are used to, so please bear with me if I make some mistakes along
the way.

On a morning some years ago, when I was hauling goods from Orem, Utah, to
Virginia City, Montana, I had just left Orem and entered Interstate 15 when I
saw this pretty hippie chippie in a really short dress and sexy boots
standing under a plum tree right after a pickle stop, raising her thumb to
try to get a lift. As I passed her, I noticed that she was about to light a
cigarette, with her head cocked sideways and her thumb on the wheel of her
lighter. At that moment my fetish made the decision for me and before I had
time to think twice, I had left the hammer lane, slowed down and started to
pull over to offer her a ride. 

When I finally managed to stop my 18-wheeler and put it in park on the
shoulder, I was admiring her image in the right mirror as she ran towards me
at full speed. Have you ever seen a beaver jogging or running with a lit
cigarette in her mouth? It is very odd, but at the same time a delicious
sight to behold.

As she approached the cab, I reached over and opened the passenger door. It
was a very hot summer morning and she was already soaked through with sweat,
her long, brunette hair was plastered to her face. I looked closer at her and
I recall that her dress was ivory colored and satiny.

She peered in at me, presumably to make sure that I wasn't some kind of
homicidal maniac, then climbed up into the passenger seat and latched her
seat belt. I even remember the click.

When I saw her up close, I was struck speechless. She was gorgeous, with
cornflower blue eyes under arched eyebrows; a long, thin nose and red lips.
Her skin was as flawless as a porcelain doll's, except that she was deeply
tanned. She could easily be taken for a college girl, but somehow I felt that
she was a bit older.

"Please drive," she finally gasped, "and don't stop for anything!"

Her voice was a little raspy - presumably from too many cigarettes - and her
English was flawless, but I sensed that it might be her second language, so I
asked her where she came from and she replied: "Uruguay."

As I reentered the highway, she was still panting so hard that I could see
her breasts rising and falling under the flimsy fabric, and the half smoked
cigarette still dangled from the side of her lips. Her hair was hanging in
her face and she raised a hand lightly to brush it away, at the same time
trying to untangle it from two identical silver hoops in her left ear.

She took a long, hands free drag, and with smoke coming out of her mouth and
nose continued: "I am married to an American man, but we just got in a
terrible fight and he threatened to kill me, so I need to put as much
distance between Orem and me as I can!"

She took another deep drag from her cigarette, closed one eye and slowly
exhaled through her nostrils. Then she offered me her right hand.

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Daniela."

When I shook her hand and told her my name, I felt her strength. I was
surprised that she had such a firm handshake, being a slender girl and all.

She tapped the ashes out through the window as smoke began to escape from the
corner of her lips.

"Funny," she said as more smoke spurted from her mouth and nose, "you don't
look like a truck driver."

"And how should a truck driver look like?"

She left the cigarette burning in the corner of her mouth again and a trace
of smoke lingered in the air.

"I don't know, I just pictured them different, that's all."

I smiled as she took a long drag on her dangling cigarette.

She smiled back at me - showing a mouth full of white - and the cigarette was
still pinched between her lips as she said: "I must look a mess!"

I told her not to worry and that she looked fine, but she opened her purse,
dug around in it for several seconds, and withdrew a wooden hairbrush and a
mirror. She brushed her hair to make sure that it was neat and dragged on her
cigarette again as she looked at her reflection. She took another deep puff
while brushing and smiling at me. She continued to caress her hair, obviously
admiring it. She was such a breathtaking beauty, I thought to myself as she
finished her hair by pulling it back into a ponytail and securing it with a
rubber band. She then expertly applied eye shadow, all the while keeping the
cigarette in her lips and dragging from it.

She reluctantly let go of her cigarette butt and threw it out through the
window before she applied some red lipstick and just a touch of rouge, then a
little powder. She put everything back into her purse, snapped it shut and we
enjoyed talking for the next hour. We immediately hit it off and somehow I
felt myself drawn to this mysterious girl. Just before Salt Lake City she lit
up again and offered me a cigarette, but I declined.

Born and raised in a small town, she told me about the difficulty of moving
from a Spanish-speaking Catholic school to a fashionable English-only private
school in Montevideo, which was the ultimate education a middle class couple
could offer their teen age daughter at that level, but all that came to a
brutal end when her father died and she was forced to leave her studies to
help her mother care for her big family. Soon afterward she fell in love with
an American oil engineer, married him, and moved to Houston. The last year or
so the couple had lived in Orem, but they had outgrown each other and he had
become more and more violent towards her until she couldn't take it any
longer. Now she didn't know what to do, but first she needed a complete
change of scenery, she said.

I told her that I felt sorry for her and I watched her as she sucked
gracefully on her cigarette. I couldn't help but admire her as she was
sitting there with the cigarette between her lips, staring at the road ahead
of us as my truck ate up mile after mile.

Suddenly she turned to me and said: "You probably won't believe this, but I
have driven trucks too, it was quite easy and I enjoyed being higher up. You
see, my brother is a truck driver, he still takes the rigs home from time to
time at night to start his working day from there the next morning, but I
doubt that his company would like it if they knew that sometimes he arranged
for me to have a go in them, on the highways and all."

I looked at her and I instantly knew that she was telling the truth. She
surprised me more and more, and always in a positive way.

After passing Ogden, it was time for a rest and I turned into a water hole.
Being a gentleman, I opened the door for Daniela and helped her down. She
smiled at me and she blew out a thick stream of smoke through her nose as she
jumped into my waiting arms. With the cigarette between her lips she took my
hand and led me towards the entrance, dragging constantly as we walked.

Sitting in the smoking section was something I was used to, since I always
did it to satisfy my fetish and I was rarely disappointed. This time,
however, I couldn't take my eyes off Daniela.

After having finished our lunch, we headed back to my truck and for some
strange reason I suddenly asked Daniela if she would like to drive it. I own
the rig, so I have no company executive to worry about. She was a bit
skeptical at first, but after having finished her cigarette, she was up to
the challenge and climbed in on the driver's side. She adjusted the seat and
mirrors before starting up the 18-wheeler. My truck is a foreign vehicle, a
Volvo, but it's as efficient as any other big truck on the road.

Seeing the Volvo logo Daniela laughed.

"My brother also mostly drives Volvos," she said, "but of course those I
tried were older then yours. I think I need a cigarette before I hit the
highway!"

Reaching behind her without looking, she rummaged around in her purse and
took out a cigarette, placing it between her red lips. As she flicked the
lighter, lit her cigarette and took a long drag, I could see a tattoo of a
bird on her right arm. It looked like an eagle, but she later told me that it
was supposed to be a hawk. She ran her fingers slowly through her pony tail
and lay it back over her shoulder. She then pushed some stray hairs behind
her unadorned right ear and laughed.

"Do you really want me to do this?"

Smoke curled up from the cigarette she dangled between her lips as I nodded. 

"OK, here we go!" she said and took another deep drag, then leaned her head
back. After she'd blown several perfect rings she took another drag, exhaled
slowly and looked directly at me.

"I really enjoy this, you know," she said, and she smiled again as she
engaged the gear, released the hand brake and the truck started rolling.

Her brother must have trained her well, because there was no hesitation in
her movements and she did everything by the book.

Soon we were doing double nickels and while she chained one cigarette after
the other behind the wheel of the big Volvo truck, she let me know how she
started smoking when she was only ten years old to "look older", because she
wanted to impress a fifteen year old boy that she liked. Smoking made her
sick in the beginning, but she practiced it every day until she was hooked.
Her grandparents smoked and both of her parents smoked, so she had no problem
sneaking cigarettes, and nobody commented on it when they found out that she
had become addicted.

We soon crossed the state line and continued north through Idaho on I-15. She
was an excellent driver and - just like I knew that she would be - she
handled the truck with ease. She eventually allowed me to remove the stub of
the cigarette from her lips, place another tube of tobacco in the corner of
her mouth and light it. She sucked deeply, smiled at me and inhaled the smoke
into her chest, which made her breasts heave. I was still mesmerized, because
from my position I could see that a gold cross was buried sexily deep inside
her bodacious cleavage, where it was moving gently between her tits as she
inhaled and exhaled.

For a while we were just sand bagging, but Daniela wanted to try talking on
the CB, so I told her what to say.

"Breaker one-nine, breaker one-nine, this is the Delta Dolphin. Anyone got a
copy?

The radio emitted some static and Daniela repeated her message.

Finally a male voice answered.

"This is the Silver Dragon. I copy you loud and clear, Delta Dolphin."

"What's your twenty?"

"Headin' south on 15th street by yardstick 145."

"Then we'll meet soon. Do you see any Kojak with a Kodak?"

"Negative. It's clean as a hound's tooth all the way to Butte!"

"Ten-four. Pree-shay-dit. This is the Delta Dolphin. I'm clear."

I was real proud of the way Daniela had handled the radio conversation with
the Silver Dragon. A few minutes later we met him and I told Daniela to honk
the horn to salute him.

Daniela asked me why I had chosen Delta Dolphin as my handle and I explained
that I was known by that name because I was born and raised in Empire, a
small town in the Mississippi Delta. 

North of Idaho Falls I watched her to see if she was checking her eye lids
for pin holes, but Daniela didn't show any sign of fatigue, she just kept
puffing delicately on her cigarette. She smiled at me and I struggled for
words as her magnificent tits again filled my vision.

I forced my glance away from her cleavage and I started to stare at her naked
right earlobe, which strangely enough showed no signs of any holes.

Before I could help it, I blurted out:  "How come you never pierced the other
ear?"

She instinctively brought her left hand up to caress her hoops and she took
two drags on her dangling cigarette before she answered.

"I got my left ear double-pierced when I was 16, because I had seen an older
girl do it and I thought that it looked awesome. I got holes number 3 and 4
just about a year later, but I haven't worn anything in my ear for a long
time, because my husband doesn't like earrings at all, so this morning I put
in two hoops just to piss him off. And it worked. After what happened I don't
want to see him again! I had my tattoo done when I was 17. I am glad I did,
but my husband hates that one, too. He never approved of my smoking, either,
and I don't think that he loves anything about me any more. I'm really happy
that I managed to escape before he could hurt me real bad…"

As we came close to the Montana state line I asked if she was hungry. 

She said: "Oh, I don’t know…"

I asked her if she would be hungry if I paid for her food, and she smiled and
thanked me. We pulled into the parking area of a small rest-em-up and left
the truck. After the meal she went to buy cigarettes and I strolled over to
the jewelry counter to buy her another pair of earrings, now that I knew that
she had two more holes…

She wanted to continue driving and who was I to deny her this lifetime
experience?

Before she started up I gave her the small present and after she had
unwrapped it I asked if she would let me insert the fake diamond studs. She
gave me a kiss and turned her head, indicating that she was very happy to let
me do it. When I was finished, she had four earrings in her left ear and none
in her right, an arrangement we both obviously found very sexy.

It had started to rain and when she pulled out of the parking area, the
windshield wipers were beating sheets of water off the glass. The rain
continued to pelt down like liquid ball bearings.

She reached into her purse and got her fresh pack of Marlboro 100s. She
removed one and let it dangle from the corner of her mouth while she pushed
in the truck's cigarette lighter. She opened the ashtray, which already
started to overflow with her lipstick smeared filters.

Driving through the rain we soon crossed into Montana and headed north to the
Frontage Road junction, where we eventually turned southeast. I asked her if
she wanted me to leave her there, but she pleaded that I let her stay with me
all the way. With a burning cigarette dangling from the corner of her mouth
she drove the truck expertly along the narrow two-lane Highway 361, which
eventually led to Highway 287. As we finally approached the small mining town
of Virginia City, it had already grown dark and she parked the truck where we
were supposed to unload it the next morning.

That night I treated her to a dinner in a small western style chew 'n' choke
and then we headed back to the truck. She was completely confident in me now
and she had no second thoughts about spending the night with me in the cab.

We quickly undressed, but before I could make any move, she was sound asleep.
I was tired, too, so it wasn't hard to cut some Zs and I slept like a log for
over seven hours.

I woke up as Daniela rolled over on me with a smile on her face inches from
mine as she said softly in her deep and husky morning voice: "Hi, baby!" 

We were staring into each other's eyes and then I moved closer to press my
open lips against hers. Daniela licked the inside of my lips with her tongue
and then pushed it into my mouth. We made our tongues dance together for a
few minutes before Daniela started to feel around her with both hands.

There was no doubt what she wanted and I spotted her purse first, reached
into it, shook a cigarette from the pack and pressed it gently into the
closest side of her lips. Daniela took the lighter from my hand and lit the
cigarette herself before she inhaled twice and then blew out the smoke. She
took another deep drag as we watched the raindrops hit the windows in the
early morning light.

Daniela put her head on my shoulder as she sucked on the cigarette and I
said: "We have to finish the unloading today. I hate this part of it."

She took another hands free drag and blew out the deeply inhaled smoke,
saying: "Me too. Just like you, I love driving these monsters!"

I said: "Roll over on your stomach."

Daniela complied and I moved my hands slowly from her head down and over her
shoulders.

"That feels so good. It's making me relax completely," she whispered, lying
very still while the smoke drifted slowly from her mouth.

I went over her entire body as Daniela was making "mmmmm" sounds through the
dangling cigarette.

She was like a limp noodle as I said: "My turn."

Daniela smiled as she got up kneeling and said: "You won't believe how
fantastic this feels", as she did me the same way. 

I felt a warm tingling everywhere she touched me. Daniela finished, rolled me
on my side and spooned me with one arm around my chest.

We sat up in bed and kissed before Daniela lit another cigarette as I
maneuvered my tongue between her legs. She took a hands free drag and I
watched her with my mouth over her clit as I licked. She came in seconds and
I sucked it into my mouth. Then I sat up as she again was taking a dangling
puff of the cigarette. She blew out the smoke and kissed me in a passionate
embrace.

She inhaled again and she blew the smoke slowly out through her nose. She
took a deep drag and she never removed the cigarette, not even when I rode
her like a horse. Three cigarettes later we both came together. I blasted a
load of cum into her pussy, then I leaned forward and we kissed. I rolled off
of her and we were both exhausted. For the first time in my life I had made
love to a woman while she smoked. That was really a hot experience in more
than one sense of the word!

After a while Daniela lit a cigarette again, took a deep drag and held in the
smoke, then took one more puff. She blew out the smoke as she cuddled up next
to me, took another drag and blew out more smoke. She smiled and kissed me,
and I couldn't help but think that she made me feel so good. She took a final
drag of the cigarette, put it out in the ashtray and then rolled over a
little so I could rub her. We kissed while we rubbed each other into another
orgasm and then fell sound asleep again.

The next thing I remember is some loud banging noises. I peeped outside and
there stood four people with a fork lift waiting to unload the cargo of
household items.

While I helped them, Daniela was tidying up the cab and making coffee. Before
we were finished, I had also received a Channel 25 message from my travel
agent that the next pick up point would be in Missoula.

You are probably eager to find out what happened to Daniela and me, and I
might consider writing more about it some other time.

Well, that's all for now, folks! Ten-ten!


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