On the Road (L)

This story contains strong language (L)
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It’s a great spring day, early May. I am returning home from an overnight visit with my grandson in Columbus. Once I get out of the city, buzzing north on I-71 on a late Tuesday afternoon, the traffic is not bad at all. I pick it up to 70-75 in the middle lane and settle in for a two-hour arrival time. I pass more people than are passing me, and I come upon a late model Subaru in my lane. It is going slightly slower than me, so I signal to the outside lane and slowly pass by. I notice the sole occupant is the female driver, and she glances at me as I scoot by her. She looks like a cute middle-aged schoolteacher in the quick moment that I glanced back—shorter hair and sunglasses. I get past her and signal back to the middle lane, then slowly put some distance between us. I eventually pass a couple more cars and trucks, the few that there are, and settle back into my middle lane.

Driving, listening to music, and daydreaming, I make good time on this warm, sunny day. There’s not much traffic. I eventually happened to glance in my rearview mirror and notice the schoolteacher in the Subaru behind me. She has sped up, I think. I come upon a truck and move to the left lane to pass. The Subaru settles in right behind me and goes around also.

Ten to fifteen minutes later, she’s still in my mirror. I go around a few more vehicles; so does she. At this point, I figure she enjoys my speed and is using me as a pacer vehicle, which I have done on occasion.

Soon I see a sign saying there’s a rest area in five miles. I’m good, I think, intending to cruise right by the exit ramp.

Then I notice the Subaru signal left to go around me. OK, she wants to go a little faster. She passes, then puts on her right turn signal to get in front of me and slows back down to my speed. A mile later, she signals right but does not make any attempt to move into the right lane. She just drives down the highway with her turn signal on.

Eventually, though, she moves to the right lane. The rest area is three miles ahead; she must be stopping. Then suddenly, she signals left again and pops back in front of me, then turns on her right blinker and gets back in the right lane. Kinda odd, I think, but I remain in the middle lane. Again, she signals left, pops back in front of me, then signals right. She stays in front of me for 30 seconds, her right blinker still on, then moves to the right lane again.

It seems that she wants me to follow her. Is there a problem? Does she need assistance? I wonder. I move to the right lane behind her. The sign says the rest stop lies one mile ahead. She has noticeably slowed, her turn signal indicating she’s going into the rest area. I slow as well and follow her in.

She drives around to the rear of the rest stop, finding a spot far from the building where no one else is parked. She backs into a space, and I back in beside her. I watch her exit the car and shut the door.
I can’t help but notice her light blue sundress that outlines her sexy bod, as well as admiring her great legs and sandals. Yes, she is an attractive middle-aged woman. Refined, well dressed, and sophisticated and… well, she looks like a schoolteacher. I remain seated in my truck and power down the passenger side window.

“Is everything OK? Is there something I can help you with?” I ask.

“Wait one second. I think you probably can,” she replies.

She proceeds to open her back seat door, sits facing the outside, and removes her sandals. I notice her scooching into the backseat lengthwise. “What is she doing?” I wonder.

“I could use some help now,” she proclaims.

“OK,” I reply. I step down from my truck and walk around to her opened backseat door. I discover her lying back against a pillow propped against the other door with her blue dress pulled up over her waist to expose her legs and silky pink panties.

Have I ever seen anything so sexy? I ask myself. I think not.

“Can you help me remove my panties, please,” she says. “And pull that door shut too.”

I cannot say no. My hands gently slide from her ankles slowly up her calves to her knees and soft, warm thighs. She stares at me as I pull down her pink panties, exposing her perfect pubic mound of short-trimmed hair and her wet, glistening pussy.

“Take your pants off,” she whispers. I gladly oblige, pulling my jeans and shorts past my swollen cock. I look her in the eyes, and she raises her index finger to her lips to shush me. She spreads her legs and pulls me into her. We simultaneously moan with pleasure and relief.

Has anything ever felt so good? I ask myself. I think not.

She slowly moves her pelvis up into me and down again. She works to pull my ass up and down and my cock deep into her. Between labored breaths, she whispers, “Fuck me, baby,” into my ear. Coming from truly the sexiest teacher I have ever met, her words excite me like none before. She kisses me long and hard, her tongue deep in my mouth. There is no break at all in her thrusting. Undeniably, this woman wants to be truly fucked.

We screw, deep and hot, for minutes on end. Panting hard and beyond control, her whole body shivers with pleasure as she cums. She cannot help crying out in uncontrolled delight.

I cum also, just after her in perfect concert. We hold each other close and let our breathing settle into an almost normal rhythm. Am I dreaming, or did this really just happen?

We regain our senses, clean up, and get dressed. Not saying a word, we exit the backseat to the outdoors and stand facing each other. I’m about to say something like how nice this has been. But when I try to speak, she puts her finger to my lips. She gives me a long and wet kiss, rubbing her fingers across my jeans and my now deflated cock. Then she slides her hands in my front pockets, and her fingers feel soothing so much closer to my skin. She happens to find and pull out my keys. Then she proceeds to toss them into the overgrowth nearby and walk to her car!

I stand helpless as she starts her vehicle and begins to drive away. Obviously, she doesn’t want me to follow her. She’s exiting the parking lot when I see her brake lights come on. She momentarily pauses as I watch, then her reverse lights come on, and she slowly backs up next to me. She powers down her window and tosses her panties to me. “You can put these back on me when you get home,” she says.

I reply, “You are gonna get one nice spanking when I get there.”

“I can hardly wait,” she replies as she drives off again, this time not even slowing down.

I finally find my keys 30 minutes later and head north for home. I don’t need any music, and I cannot will myself to stop thinking about what has happened. It feels like the longest drive home ever, and I have to watch my speed. I get a hard-on again from just fantasizing about what she did and what the future may hold.

I finally make it to the house as it’s getting dusky out. I open the door to the sound of some sexy R&B coming out of the speakers. After taking off my shoes, I follow a trail of littered clothes, sundress included, leading to the bedroom. I enter my bedroom to find it lit by a single candle next to a bottle of wine. My schoolteacher lies propped against some pillows, wearing only black nylons hugging her sexy legs. Her nipples stand erect, waiting for my tongue, and she slowly strokes her well-oiled pussy that glints in the flickering flame.

Have I ever seen anything so sexy? I ask myself. I think not.

“You took forever to get here,” she states between deep, pulsating breaths. “I was so horny I couldn’t wait any longer; I kinda started without you.”

I hold up her panties and ask if they belong to her.

She replies, “Yes, but you can put them back on me later—much later. Now close the door. Pour us some wine and get undressed, baby, because this is starting to feel really good. I may need your help again getting these nylons off. And… you owe me a good spanking.”

My cock is hard and throbbing as I undressed. It’s apparent that she needs to be fucked again, and I can hardly wait to mount her. Or perhaps she’ll mount me. And I definitely have to get my tongue across that needy pussy of hers.

Well, the nylons I leave on her as is my preference, but the spanking—let’s just say she gets what she deserves.

The rest of the evening makes for another, much longer story.