It had been a long week, visiting the in laws. My wife's parents were assholes, more so her mother than her pussy whipped father, but I shut up and acted like I enjoyed the visit, for the sake of my wife. The two oldest were spending another week with Nana and Poppa, and so we were driving back to northern Michigan with the two babies.
The drive had tuckered them out, and they slept peacefully as I navigated the interstate. Once we got north of Bay City, Sheryl developed a mischievous twinkle in her eye, and she slid over next to me in the front seat of our SUV. I saw, from out of the corner of my eye, as she glanced into the rear seat, ensuring the boys were still deeply asleep, and she then began to run her hand up and down my right thigh. It had been a nookie drought in the in-laws' house, and Mr. Happy certainly appreciated the attention that he assumed was headed his way.
Sheryl began to run her hands up the baggy leg of my cargo shorts, and leaned close to me to whisper, "You just keep your eyes and attention on the road. I have some delayed business with my friend, here, and I don't want you interrupting us."
With that, she began to reach up into my shorts, and stroke my cock through my underwear. Of course, I leaped to attention, but, heeding her admonition to focus on navigating, I did not let my gaze stray from the night time road. She lay her head on my thigh, as if to nap, and continued to stroke me, only now with her head centimeters from my throbbing arousal. After several minutes of this, she began to kiss my thigh below my shorts' leg, and at the same time reach into my underwear and stroke me, skin on skin. I certainly was working hard to keep my eyes and mind on the road!
I began to ooze from the end of my dick, and she capitalized on that by swiping the end, extracting her hand, and sucking my secretions from her fingers. She turned to me, reached up and drew herself to my ear. There, she murmured, "You are still as tasty as I remember. I love your fat hard cock. I love your taste. I love how you throb in my hand, in my mouth, in my pussy, in my ass. When you swell inside me, it makes me come so hard, I don't know what to do. I just hope I can keep quiet enough when you shoot your stuff into my mouth, that I don't wake the babies. But, with your hard throbbing cock deep in my throat, I don't know if they will be able to hear me when I come, anyhow. I'm just disappointed that I can't taste you like I want to, with your dick deep in my throat. You'll just have to make it up to me, later at home in our bed. Then you can make me scream and moan, and beg for your cum, and fill me up. Where do you think you'll want to fill me? My pussy, or my ass? I can't tell which I'm gonna want more. They both make me tingle. When you fill my ass, I feel so small and helpless, like you are forcefully taking me where we both know I want to go. When you take my puss, you make me drool pussy lube all over the bed, and I just keep coming and coming as you plunder me. Are you going to be my bad old pirate tonight, plundering my poor little pussy? Are you going to fill me with your cum, so I drool your stuff into my panties the rest of the way home? Do you think anybody will notice the way you are dripping out of me, if we have to stop again before we get home? Maybe I'll strip off right in the kitchen, and you can fuck me hard over the counter. Would you like to take me, bent over the counter? I'd be helpless, unable to do anything but ooze all over your dick. Do you think the neighbors would hear me come? What would they think, if they were to see into our kitchen window as you molested me?"
During this entire travelogue through Eros-Land, Sheryl began, again, to stroke my cock, and her hot words were having quite the effect on me and my favorite organ. I was in my thirties at this point, and while I wasn't 18 anymore, I did not yet notice any loss of stamina or (shall we say) vigor. Nonetheless, I couldn't recall ever being harder, or longer, or thicker as my unit vibrated in her hand. Once I regained the capacity of speech, I answered her: "Honey, if you keep that up, you will get a handful. I don't mean later, I mean right fucking quick."
"Oh, no you don't," she reacted, withdrawing her hand. "You aren't wasting all that lovely cum in your shorts. I have other plans for you and him!" She laid her head back on my lap, and continued, "I'll just take a little nap here for a while, until you regain some control." Of course, I had great difficulty in NOT imagining the implications of her head in my lap, and other times she had occupied herself with her head in my lap.
She lay quietly for a while, as advertised, and my Blue Steel Throbber, lonely from lack of attention, became less steely, stopped throbbing, and settled for joining his testicular friends in merely feeling, so to speak, blue. I had thought that she had, indeed, fallen asleep, and was enjoying the feelings of closeness and connection this brought to me, when she showed me she had more in mind than I had imagined.
I felt Sheryl's hand reach again into my pants leg, and this time, begin to work my underwear down. Anticipating where this was headed, I did my best to assist her in this task. Withdrawing her hand from my pants, she released my belt buckle, unsnapped my pants, and began to work them down my hips as well. I raised up as much as my seat belt would allow, and they wound up around my knees. My johnson was now briefly in the breeze, until my wife again began to work me over. This time, she began to suckle on my tool, and when I began to, let us say, "assist" her, she stopped, removed my hand from her head and placed it again upon the steering wheel, admonishing me "If you can't keep your mind on the job, we will stop playing. You focus on the road, I have everything well in hand down here."
Recognizing a good plan when I heard it, I did my best to attend to driving, as she licked, sucked, and talked to my cock. Yes, I was a bit distracted. Hell, I was WAY distracted! I kept wanting to tear my eyes off of the road, and admire the view as my young bride worked her oral magic upon me. She stopped from time to time, as I was nearing my climax, to whisper just loudly enough for me to hear, "Oh, this is my favorite toy. Are you gonna stay all fat and hard for me? Do you want to stretch my poor little juicy pussy? Huh? I bet you want to spit all your lovely goo deep inside my little twat, don't you? Or would you rather stretch my tight little asshole? It's been too long since I felt you stretching me, throbbing deep in my colon." As if that sort of conversation was going to draw me back from the brink of ecstasy land!
Whatever it ought to have done, once she began her narrative, and stopped deep throating me, my arousal did indeed diminish a bit. As she determined this to be so, she resumed licking and sucking, as I obligingly raised the steering wheel and eased my seat backwards. Unsurprisingly, I again began my climb towards release.
By this point, I was looking for a dark spot, where I could take this teasing where I wanted it to go. Looking up, I noted our freeway exit was approaching. I told Sheryl this, and she gave my throbbing tool a goodbye kiss, tucked me in and rearranged my clothing more toward normalcy, and sat up.
She patted my swollen unit and leaned over to murmur in my ear, "You know I seldom like an audience. There are too many streetlights in Gaylord, and the boys may wake up. You just focus on the road, and once we're through Johannesburg and out on the state highway again, maybe we can pickup where we left off."
While that was not quite what I wanted to hear (what I wanted to hear was more along the lines of "get us a motel room right now!"), the implicit promise was encouraging. I navigated the early morning streets, the echoes of Sheryl's throaty murmurs rocketing about my brain.
I managed to safely find my way out into the countryside, and Sheryl again began to stroke me through my shorts. She leaned closer to me to lean her head on my shoulder, and my attention was caught by the view an oncoming car's headlights revealed. The gap in her blouse revealed that she had not only unbuttoned her blouse by two additional buttons (when had she done that?), but also had somehow neglected to wear a bra this night. The glimpse of her B cup breasts fueled my lust for my young bride, and rekindled my search for a dark spot to consummate my desires for her.
Eastern Montmorency County becomes hilly, by Michigan standards, as you travel farther from the interstate, and is peppered with State Forest Service campgrounds. These are very rustic, having a hand pump for water, pit toilets, and no electricity. Thus, on a weekday night just like this one, they are very dark. And generally empty, the tourists generally seeking electricity so they can get closer to nature (Yeah, I know. I don't get it, either.)
I found the Tomahawk Lake SFS campground, slowed, and turned off into the picnic area. This overlooked the lake, which shone with the reflected light of the moon, tinseling the surrounding trees with silver light. Stopping the car, I ensured that the boys slumbered still. I heard a rustle of cloth, and looked back from the rear seat to see my now topless wife grinning at me, her tits painted by the soft moonlight.
"So, sailor: wanna show a girl a good time?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" I agreed. I took a blanket from the back seat, and walked around the car to escort Sheryl to our trysting site. I arrived to find her strolling, nude, to greet me, and lead me to the edge of a copse of trees. Spreading the blanket, she knelt upon it and reached for my belt. As she released the buckle, I toed off my shoes, and pitched my shirt onto the pile of clothing she had deposited next to the blanket.
.... There is more of this story ...