Heather Brown: Hitchhike wife

"God, I'm coming again! I don't believe it!" he gasped disbelievingly.

"And I've never stopped!" I answered, wildly bucking my hips for emphasis.

His sperm was so copious that my cunt couldn't hold anywhere near all of it. Slick torrents of it dribbled down the insides of my legs, drenching my thighs all the way down to my knees. The smell of my pussy made my nostrils flare, the smell of cum masking the air humid with lust. The enclosed cab reeked with the raw, low-down scent of fucking.

His coming finally stopped. One last burst sent his clenched balls shooting halfway up his shaft and then he relaxed inside me, his prick exhausted. Sperm and pussy-juice were everywhere.

I pulled his cock out of my pussy and slid down on the seat beside him. Leaning over, I took what was left of the stiffness of his prick in my mouth and licked up all the jizz. As his cock continued to wilt, I could take more and more of it in my mouth, until finally I was giving the whole thing a wet bath.

When I had licked his cock clean of the sperm and pussy-juice, I attacked his balls for the last load of sticky goodness. My tongue scooted aver them, the gooey slime of cunt-cream and sperm clinging to the roughness of my tastebuds and intoxicating my senses. All the way up to his tightly packed asshole I lapped the juice, and then back down to his nuts, sucking them in my mouth like they were pieces of juicy fruit.

When the cum was all gone, I just lay there with my head in his lap, grooving on the musky smell of his crotch. The combined aromas of sweat, grime, spit, sperm and pussy-cream were like a drug for me, reducing me to helpless drowsiness. Exhausted, I slumbered in his lap.

I suppose we could have stayed like that forever. But the knocking against the side of the truck woke us up quick.

"Hey, what's going on in there?" a voice from outside called. "You gotta get this thing outta the way. We got an accident and we have to divert the traffic through here."

"Oh, shit, a fucking cop." Ted grumbled, pushing my face away from his crotch and pulling up his pants. "Ali I need is a ticket for obstructing traffic."

"What about us?" I asked.

"Just get dressed," Ted hissed. "If he climbs up and looks in the cab, we'll get busted for indecent exposure. Then the company'll find out I've been picking up riders."

"You gonna get this thing movin' or what?" the voice from the outside said.

"Yeah, sure, sure, just give me a second," Ted called back, cinching his pants around his waist. The motor rumbled as he turned the key and stepped on the gas.

"What about me?" I said as he put his foot down on the clutch.

"Look, I gotta get out of here," he said brusquely. "I'll let you off at the next gas station. You can hitch a ride back. Look, it's even stopped raining."

I was stunned. It was like we had never fucked at all, like it had never happened. All the way to the filling station I just sat there in shock, unable to spent. I wondered if I had imagined it all. Maybe I was so horny I'd dreamed all of this. Maybe I was in bed at home and it was four in the morning.

But the service station Ted pulled into certainly looked real. I could smell the gas and the exhaust fumes.

And Ted's smile seemed genuine when he looked at me and said, "Thanks for the piece of ass, babe."

My head was still spinning from Ted's acknowledgement that we had indeed fucked as his truck pulled away. My pussy ached too much for this to be a dream, of that I was sure.

I checked my buttons to be sure my raincoat was securely closed. My nightie had been torn to shreds and discarded inside the truck, and now I was totally nude underneath. I started to panic as I saw myself somehow losing my coat and getting picked up for indecent exposure by a Highway Patrolmen on the interstate.

I looked around for a potential ride. There were three cars at the pumps, and none of them looked promising – a station wagon full of nuns, a Volkswagen with a middle-aged fat couple in it, and a pickup truck with a load of manure in the back.

Then my hopes increased when a fourth car pulled into the station. It was a long, sleek white convertible with the top down now that the rain had stopped and the sun was shining. The driver was a sexy-looking guy in sports clothes in his early thirties.

I waited around until he got his tank filled. When he had paid the attendant and was getting ready to leave, I dashed from around the side of the building like I had just come out of the restroom. "Mister," I called as I ran up to him. "Could you give me a lift?"

His blue eyes gave me the once-over. I guess he liked what he saw, because a grin split his face and he said, "Sure, hop on in."

The instant I was in my seat with the door slammed, he gunned us out onto the highway, accelerating quickly. "Where you headed?" he asked, showing me a flawless smile.

I started to give him an answer and then suddenly realized I didn't have one. I just sat there with my mouth open.

"What's the matter?" he said, pushing the car up past seventy.

There had been so much confusion with the rain, and the traffic, and the fucking, that I had lost my sense of direction. I didn't know where I was or where I was headed.

"Don't you know where you're going?" he said, as though it were a joke.

"No," I stated simply.

"Well, I'm going to Phoenix myself," he said, as though he encountered people like me every day. "Wanna come along?"

"That's 800 miles away," I said.

"Less than eleven hours in this machine," he said, pushing the speedometer past eighty. With the top down, the wind was blowing our hair straight out behind our heads. His hair was long and blond.

"But, really…" I weakly protested.

"Don't you know anybody in Phoenix?" he said, lifting an eyebrow. "Great town. I could introduce you around. You'd have a ball."

"But, actually, I was just going to the shopping center for a magazine."

"Don't worry, they've got plenty of shopping centers in Phoenix. The town is full of 'em."

"But, see," I explained, "then I was going to go home to read the magazine. Mid, well, I don't live in Phoenix, so I couldn't very well want to go there. If you know what I mean."

He was pushing ninety now. The other cars looked like they were standing still. The landscape was a blur. "Didn't you just tell me a minute ago," he said, "that you didn't know where you were going?"

"Well, yes," I said, "but I just meant I didn't know which direction. I got confused, you understand, and I don't know which direction it is to the Rodeo Shopping Center. You know, the Rodeo Shopping Center. Thrifty Drug Store. The Big Hunk Supermarket. The Colonel's. I was going to Thrifty's for a magazine."

"It's all Greek to me," he said amiably, his foot on the accelerator striving for a hundred. "I don't live around here so I don't know your shopping center from a hole in the pound. There must not be an adult bookstore there."

The expression on my face told him I didn't know what he was talking about.

"I'm an adult novelties salesman, see," he explained. "The only way I'd know your shopping center is if one of my clients has a store there. And since I've never heard of the Rodeo Shopping Center, I guess then isn't one."

"No, a Church of God got there first," I said. "They have drive-in services there. I guess the zoning laws or something don't allow an adult bookstore and a Church of God in the same shopping center. Do you mind if I ask you what adult novelties are?"

In the time it took me to ask that question, we were going so fast we must have driven almost a mile. And since we'd left the gas station, there was no telling how far we'd driven. Nothing looked familiar, so we must have been going the wrong way.

"Adult novelties," he said, "are what you might call sex aids. Only my company calls them adult novelties to avoid any lawsuits for practicing medicine without a license."