Doris got lonely. Her husband was gone all week since he took the truck driving job. Yes the money was good, but she missed him. She could keep busy during the day but it was pretty lonesome in bed and she got horny. She was in her early 30s and really getting comfortable with sex, and now was not getting enough of it.
When he first took the job, the company had her ride along for a week to see what he’d be doing. She learned a lot about navigating, truck stops, and a hot personal technology of the day – Citizens Band (CB) radio. Anybody could go to Radio Shack or other fine store, or even the shops at the truck stops, and easily get in touch via unlicensed radio waves.
With a range of five to twenty-five miles depending on terrain and antenna, the biggest users were truckers and commuters. They could keep in touch with road conditions, such as “Smokies”, the nickname for highway patrol from the NPS “Smoky the bear” campaign, or traffic jams. Some people carried them to ask for help in a breakdown or emergency.
Since people live near highways, there were another set of folks who just liked chatting with the endlessly changing flow of other folks going by. Doris fit into this group, living in a trailer park only a quarter mile from an interstate. Her road crossed it and featured two truck stops at the intersection.
Ostensibly purchasing a home transceiver for her husband’s birthday gift, she soon was in touch with a whole new world when he was on the road. After that week on the road with him, she knew the protocols and lingo.
First of all, she needed a “handle”, the nickname one used to remain anonymous on the air. She tried several out but liked “C-B-C” spelled out. It stood for “CB Cunnie”. The last word was a pet name her husband used as a nicer variation of the more vulgar “cunt”. He’d say she was his “favorite cunnie”. She’d wondered, but never pursued, whether that meant she was his only, as in your only sibling was your “favorite”, or whether she compared favorably with other women.
So C-B-C hit the airwaves, feeling a bit wicked as she developed one-time chats or regular ones with commuters and other regular passers-by. She’d remember handles and voices and it broke her social isolation. No, other trailer park women weren’t a good option, she’d tried. Not her type.
A few interactions switched from the common channel, 19, to other ones for more private talks with fewer interruptions. Of course anyone could switch too and listen in or be a part, but it helped. Some of the truckers had regular routes like her husband’s so they would be predictable and she looked forward to the chit-chat, often picking up where the last one got out of range.
“Jolly Roger” asked if she’d have coffee with him one day. He was going to get fuel at one of the nearby truck stops. He also had to take a mandatory rest period. He had been a nice chat partner and had several non-trivial discussions with her on private channels. She was thrilled with an invitation that she had not expected and figured it was a public place, so what could it hurt?
He turned out to be quite a bit older with a bit of a paunch that came from sitting all day, but good looking and polite. She saw a well-worn wedding ring too. It was fun putting a face with a voice and she hoped they could do it again.
That night she was fingering herself as usual and his face kept popping into her mind. As she went over the top she flashed on wondering how another man would feel. Her husband was her only.
A few warm and friendly Thursday later, Roger asked the question she’d been itching for. “Would you like to see my rig?” He was an owner-operator and they usually had much nicer cabs than the company owned ones her husband drove. She agreed and he led the way out to the parking lot. Helping her up the big steps he began the guided tour.
When they got back to the living quarters, she was doing and eyeing at how comfortable they were. She laid down suggestively on the full size bed and he laid down beside her. Wordlessly they reached for each other and began making out. It wasn’t long before parts were being fondled and close started to come off.
When his uncircumcised cock probed and found the wet opening in her crotch, she was nearly ready to explode from anticipation. As soon as he hit bottom and their pubes rubbed, she exploded in orgasm. It was so wicked and so good! She was too wound up to even try to compare how he felt compared her husband and just reveled in the sensations. He paused his stroking to suck and nibble on her nipples and she climaxed again.
Shit! This hadn’t happened with her husband in a long time! She wrapped her legs around him and thrust her hips back in time with his. She came one last time as she felt his Cock pulse the adulterous cream deep inside her. They rested a while and she was still shaking as she climbed down from the cab and went to her car. Her clit got a real workout that night as she played with the cream the Seeping out of her unfaithful Cunnie.
When her husband got home the next evening, he discovered a wife who had dinner on the table, as usual, but greeted him at the door with a beer in her baby doll lingerie he bought her for their first anniversary. Dinner had to be reheated after they cooled down.
“Damn, honey! What got you so hot?” He happily inquired. She explained he’d gotten the time of her hormones just right and besides, he hadn’t fucked her for quite a few days. He bought that.