On a Long Drive

On a Long Drive
Literary Erotica
by Lord Malinov

“Do it,” I said. “I dare you.”

I glanced over at Ellen to catch a glimpse of the lust smoldering in her big blue eyes. We had been driving down the lonely highway for almost four hours, and had exhausted our stores of conversation somewhere after Eldorado. A semi rolled down the road ahead of us, the only vehicle we had encountered in over twenty minutes.

“But . . . ,” Ellen said. Heavy breathing weakened her voice into silence.

“He’s probably falling asleep at the wheel. Wake the poor guy up with some titty It’ll be a rush.”

“But . . . ,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

“I’ll pull up alongside him. You flash him your boobs and we’ll zoom off into the next county. No big deal. Just naughty games to pass the time.”

Hearing a soft whimper, I stole another peek at my wife. Ellen stared at me vacantly as she fondled the stiff nipple jutting into the cotton of her pale green shirt. I accelerated, bringing the truck within striking distance.

“What the hell,” Ellen said.

“You’re so fucking hot,” I said, changing lanes and slowly creeping closer to the cab. Ellen bit her lip and smiled painfully. The scent of her musk filled the car. She turned toward the window and lifted her t-shirt, exposing her dark-tipped cream melons. I matched the truck’s speed so we were relatively motionless for thirty seconds. The sudden blast of an air horn roared over the plains. I punched the gas and we tore away.

“Ohmigod,” said Ellen, falling back into her seat for a moment. She pulled the t-shirt up over her head and then squeezed her big tits hard. “Did you see that?” she asked, looking back at the receding truck. “He’s great.”

“You bad girl,” I said, my cock throbbing painfully.

“Slow down,” she said. I lifted my right foot and let the car coast down from ninety. The trucker quickly cut into the distance I had only just established. Raising her eyebrows over a naughty grin, Ellen stuck her head and arms out the window and shook her bare breasts at the trucker, whooping with excitement in the mad rush of wind. The air horn blared in energetic appreciation.

Reaching over, I lifted Ellen’s skirt and fondled her pantied

ass while she urged the trucker back alongside us. Pressing a finger between my wife’s thighs, I found her drenched with excitement. Ellen pulled herself back inside the car, her hair as wild as the look in her eyes. Leaning over to give me a kiss, Ellen pushed her bottom toward the open window. The raging horn shook the meadows as Ellen pulled her panties down.

“I’m so fucking hot,” she said with a gasp. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Tramp,” I said, working my hand down to squeeze one of her tits.

“Give me your cock,” she said in a husky tone that compelled me into action. I fumbled with my jeans, trying at the same time to control the car’s speed and direction. Ellen fingered her wet cunt as I struggled, and the truck roared beside us. After some difficult contortions, I managed to work my steely prick free. Ellen kissed my staff hungrily and wiggled her behind. The horn trumpeted our excitement over the vast plains.

Despite the awkward position, Ellen managed to push my cock deep into her mouth, her backside still aimed out the passenger side. I tried my best to concentrate on the road and keep our speed steady while my prick was being devoured by my ravishing, ravenous blonde wife. The truck suddenly leapt forward and I looked up to see a handsome young trucker leering down through our broad windshield. He shouted enthusiastic encouragements as Ellen licked my rod. I gave him a thumbs up and he pulled on his horn.

“You want to fuck him?” I said. Ellen groaned and sucked. “There’s a rest stop up ahead.” Ellen lifted her head from beneath the steering wheel and licked her lips.

“Really?” she asked.

“Two miles. Get back in your seat and let’s cruise through.”

“I need fucking,” Ellen said, rubbing her clitoris eagerly.

I dashed ahead of the truck and turned on my signal to indicate our intentions. A few seconds later, a large yellow bulb on the right side of the cab began to blink. We turned into the exit and slowed.

<= Trucks : Cars =>

I veered to the right, winding down the driveway of the rest stop. A family ate their lunch at a grey picnic table. Four cars sat parked in front of a well-trimmed brown cabin. A highway patrolman leaned against his cruiser.

“Get down,” I said. Ellen had anticipated my concern and was already laying low. I continued on past the road’s resting travelers and

curled back toward the highway. Ellen pinched her stiff nipples and started laughing out loud.

“You mad fucker,” she said as I sped back down the ramp. “Let’s find a motel. I can’t take any more driving.”

“I’m with you,” I said, struggling to breathe as my heart shuddered in my chest. “Vixen.” The road soon stretched out empty before us. I smiled at my wife lecherously as the long blast of an air horn rumbled in the distance, the blare of a grateful trucker wailing a goodbye.

About Lord Malinov

Lord Malinov, literary author, bon vivant, rogue romantic poet - author of Song of Songs, Journals of Lord Malinov, Erotic Romances and others ...
This entry was posted in books, erotica, fiction, literature, literotica, personal, reading, short stories, swinging, writing and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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