Truckers

It was a long drive back home. I was getting restless and bored as a passenger. My hubby was focused on the road ahead and wasn’t paying much attention to me.

I would change that.

It was a warm day, so I’d dressed appropriately: shorts and button-down sleeveless cotton blouse.

Since we’d be in the car all day, I decided to forego a brassiere, my perky B-cups needing little restraint anyway.

Fiddling with my blouse buttons, I was inspired to change my look, so I untucked my shirttails, undid the bottom few buttons, and tied the tails a la Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island, my blouse was now a crop top.

I was still feeling kinda restricted so I unbuttoned the top buttons too, down to the knot below by boobs. Ahhhh, freedom to breathe.

My hubby glanced over approvingly after inspecting my transformation. A little nod and quick wink silently instructed me to loosen the knot and pull the sides back to reveal a little more skin, which I did obediently, exposing my hardening nipples.

A pitch and a twist brought them to full hardness.

After a long lecherous glance, his eyes returned to the road.

We shared the two-lane highway with an endless stream of 18-wheelers, truckers to the right, cars to the left, which worked out well for me because I could see every trucker’s face as we passed, and they could look down into the front passenger seat and see me in all my glory.

I reclined my seat and lazily stared out my window, gazing up at the blue sky above with puffy white clouds floating by, intermittently blocked out trucks.

The sun shone down on me through the windshield warming me.

Every so often my hubby would slow down matching the speed of the truck next to us, giving the driver an extended view into the passenger seat, my seat.

I was dozing off when I had that weird sensation the someone was watching me. Indeed, someone was, a trucker leaning into his door window, peered down at me, and mouthed the words, “show me your tits.”

I giggled to myself.

Given the that my hubby was keeping our vehicles even, I took that as his permission to oblige my fellow traveler.

I traced my index fingers along the open edges of my blouse, up and down along the seams, and with each pass, pulling the fabric aside a little farther, revealing darkened ring of my areoles, but no more.

Both the trucker and my hubby smiled approvingly.

I was teasing them both. They were both eager to see my nipples but I had other plans.

My hands followed my form down my sides and across my abs, meeting in an open triangle at my crotch, my fingers and thumbs outlining my pubic patch, which was covered by my shorts, for now.

As my arms straightened, my biceps pushed my boobs inward and together, creating as much cleavage as is possible for me. The open sides of my blouse tented above my hardened nipples denying the trucker’s his view, but exposing my entire boob, nipple and all, to my hubby.

I began caressing my pussy through my shorts, rubbing myself, back and forth, the friction increasing my arousal. I could feel blood rushing to my nether region, my pussy moistening.

The trucker now pressing his face into his window to get a better view.

Unexpectedly, my hubby’s hand slid under my elongated arms and tugged my short’s top button open, unzipping them half-way as he kept pulling, revealing wisps of pubic hair peeking out from my panties’ waistband.

He nodded. I didn’t need any more encouragement.

I shimmied out of my shorts, pushing them down my thighs, along with my moist panties, presenting my onlookers with a well-trimmed pussy, with noticeable puffy lips, glistening with my own juices.

My hubby’s fingers jousted with my own for the rights to be the first one’s in me. We hand wrestled in my lap but I got the better of him, two hands to one. My prize was for me to enjoy first.

His retreating hand took consolation, pulling apart my loosely tied top, freeing my boobs, bathing them in warm sunshine. I was now fully exposed, my shorts around my ankles and blouse underneath me as I reclined on the front passenger seat, hard nipples pointing upward and outward, begging to be suckled.

Unwittingly, the trucker had his tongue out, panting like a dog about to rut.

My fingers glided across my lubricated shaved lips quickly finding my pleasure button and my opening beneath it, oozing self-made viscosity with the expectation of penetration.

Just as was about to sink my fingers into myself, my hubby pulled my hand away by the wrist, placing it firmly on his swollen cock, straining at the zipper of his shorts.

Happy to help. I unbuckled my seat belt and re-positioned myself, with my head buried in his lap and my ass crack smiling vertical through my window, giving the trucker a great view of two of my three ports of entry.

Hubby’s cock was hard and pulsing. Huge droplets of pre-cum oozed forth, coating its flared purple helmet.

He pushed down on the back of my head, like I needed instructions, this wasn’t my first rodeo, then traced his hand across my back, rounding my ass, on his way to my honey hole.

Two fingers plunged into me as I inhaled his cock down to its root, nuzzling my nose in his pubic fuzz.

Abruptly, our car swerved away as my hubby reacted instinctively to the truck unexpectedly veering into our lane. Evidently, the trucker was a distracted driver too.

Slurping and squishing sounds alternated as I sucked him and he fingered-banged my sloshy pussy.

I could tell he was getting close to erupting and so was I, but I wanted to be fucked, hard and deep.

So, I called an audible (yeah, I watch college football), and I demanded that he pull over now and take care of our business the proper way, with no risk of spillage, depositing his load deep within me, his spousal cum receptacle.

But where? We were in the middle of nowhere, flying down the highway, flanked by cars and trucks.

What to do? What to do?