Road Trip With Jenny
Copyright© 2026 by Jimmy Lee
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A woman I've been friends with for several years expresses and interest in a trip with me using my new travel trailer. That's a surprise because she's (I thought) very married.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Cheating Anal Sex Cream Pie Double Penetration Oral Sex Big Breasts
Day 2
I woke up the next morning on my right side, as I usually do, but with an arm and leg draped over me and the odor of sex still noticeable in the air. My morning wood twitched, and I wished I didn’t have to make the necessary waking bathroom run. Mentally shaking my head, I extricated myself from Jenny’s limbs, and as I left the bedroom, I turned back to look at her. Good Lord, she was a fine-looking woman, even in the morning after being rode hard and put up wet. What the fuck was she doing there with me? Gaa, gotta pee.
Returning to bed, I lay on my left side close to her and watched her sleep. She had a slight upturn to the corners of her mouth which made me wonder what she was dreaming. Looking at her lips brought the memory of them wrapped around my cock, sucking the cum out of me. That made my dick begin to grow. As I lay there, looking her over closely, thinking about last night, and wondering how and why all this was happening, she opened her eyes.
“Buongiorno, mio caro,” she said in Italian. I didn’t know what it meant, but figured it was something to the effect of “good morning”. With a smile and a slight caress of my cheek, she asked, “Did you sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” I replied. “Better than I have in a while.”
“It must be the fresh air and camping,” she replied with a slight chuckle. “Do you have plans for today?”
“I thought we’d go exploring,” I mused.
“Anywhere in particular?”
Running my finger from her collarbone down over her nipple and onto her midsection I said, “Oh, mountains.” Continuing tracing my finger down across her abdomen, I went on, “and plains,” and when my finger slipped into her slit, I finished, “and valleys, too.”
By now my dick was hard. She stroked it lightly and said, “And some stands of hardwood, too.” At that we both busted out laughing. “But first, uomo delizioso, breakfast.” I watched her body as she slid down and off the foot of the bed, heading through the door to the kitchen, and thought that maybe I should learn a little Italian. Couldn’t Google these words she was using because there was no cell service. I went out and sat at the dinette, watching her in the apron she’d brought, stroking my dick at the sight of her butt, back, and legs.
Breakfast was nothing fancy, just eggs, bacon, and toast. Hmm, she could cook ordinary, too. As we sat opposite each other, eating, her toes played lightly with mine in a most natural way, as if we’d done that forever. After breakfast, she took a quick shower while I put the dishes to soak. When she was done, I took mine. In about an hour there would be enough hot water again for dishes.
Once we were dressed, I wanted to set up the solar panels and inverter. They weren’t necessary in the campground with shore power, but I’d never used them and figured this was a good a time as any to try them out. Again, she amazed me at how someone who seems so much like a diva would jump right in to do what she referred to as “man’s work” by helping me carry them over to where the sun was hitting the ground and run the wires from the panels to the trailer. Then she set out a gallon jar to make sun tea, and we relaxed under the shade of the awning.
Our conversations have always flowed so easily, which surprises me since we are such polar opposites. She’s a far right, born-again Christian. I’m a left-leaning heathen with pagan tendencies. Yet we’ve always been able to talk about anything, including politics and religion, without any animosity or discomfort. We’ve also been able to sit in comfortable silence for extended periods. That was what we did now, and just like her toes on mine, it felt right and natural.
After some time, she said the tea was done, took the jar in, and returned in a few minutes with two glasses of iced tea, complete with lemon slices and mint sprigs. I marveled at how she could manage those special little touches while camping.
We sat there for most of the morning, watching the other campers, waving and returning “good morning” calls, and chatting briefly with those who stopped to do so. It soon occurred to me that these people took us to be husband and wife, probably because of the wedding ring rock on her left hand. She’s totally into extravagant bling, and I’ve wondered how long it took her hubby to pay that thing off. A preacher and paint salesman, I doubted he made a great deal of money, and I imagined that the income from her now defunct catering business had been all hers.
Around noon we had lunch, some kind of sausage and cheese stuffed into pita bread that was delicious. I was fortunate that she set the portions, otherwise I would have had way too much. Afterwards, at her suggestion, we went for a walk around the park, more of a stroll, actually. There was a community building with a game room containing a ping pong table, darts (the dull type that go into holes in the board), shuffleboard (hadn’t seen that in ages), foosball, checkers, chess, dominoes, and table hockey. The latter we tried out and she trounced me soundly. I made the excuse of being distracted by her down-blouse view.
Looking around to make sure nobody was paying attention, she walked over while undoing two more buttons and asked, “Like what you see? Maybe you want more?” Oh, geez, the sight of her breast flesh in that skimpy little bra was so enticing. My dick sliding between them was all I could think of, and of course it responded.
“Geez, woman, do you want me to jump you right here,” I asked.
She laughed softly, buttoned one button, and replied, “That might be too much of a shock for some of these folks, but keep that thought in mind.” I wondered if she had an idea that I wanted to fuck those tits. She was becoming curiouser and curiouser. Wandering back to the trailer, she took my hand in hers and we strolled along like any other couple. I half expected her to go in, but she picked up the tea glasses and said, “I’ll refill these and be right back.” I sat down, pondering the enigma that was Jenny. “American Pie” suddenly came out of the outside speakers. She figured out the stereo and paired her phone to it. Cool.
She returned with a smile which suddenly faded into a slightly concerned expression as she sat the glasses on the table. “What’s up,” she asked. “You look bothered, or something.” Oops. Well? Blow it off or settle it? I hate hiding things. Settle it.
“I’m wondering why we are here, Jenny. Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy we are. I’ve been wanting to taste you since I first saw you and you are much finer than I ever imagined. But you’re...”
“I’m a Christian with a preacher husband and this is a sin,” she interrupted and finished my idea in a flat tone. She did so more bluntly than I’d planned to, but there it was, unglossed and unmistakable. I nodded. She made a deep sigh and reached over to grip my hand.
“I need things I can’t get at home. Ron is a wonderful husband and father to my girls, but he has so many hang-ups and inhibitions. Anything that isn’t missionary position and instigated by the man doesn’t work for him. You know some of my history, back in my biker days. I actually loved those times, had a blast living life on the edge, except for the asshole I married who beat me senseless whenever he wanted.