Amarillo by Morning

by Jamie and Lisa

Copyright© 2019 by Jamie and Lisa

BDSM Sex Story: Lisa's biological and Jamie's adoptive mom and dad. Fiction because we didn't watch them, we just imagined what they were doing with the mask, gag, cuffs, armbinder, paddles and flogger we found cleaning the sleeper of the truck... (Note to parents: If you don't hide your sex toys, your kids will write stories about you and post them here.)

Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   BDSM   Light Bond   Spanking   Anal Sex   .

My kids call Katharine and Gabe grandma and grandpa.

I ain’t got a dime,
but what I got is mine,
I ain’t rich,
but Lord I’m free...

-Amarillo by Morning (Fraser and Stafford)

Life does not end at forty.

Gabe steered the big Peterbilt off the county road, and slowing down he carefully guided it through the old concrete arch ‘FRISCO LINES’ it read. It was close, but he had been driving tractors, over the road trucks, for twenty years. More than that long if he thought about it.

But he had other, randier thoughts to think. Really what he needed to do was to concentrate on the road, it was ancient macadam with enormous ruts, some partly filled with limestone. Ruts that might swallow smaller vehicles whole.

Katherine was quite good at distracting him. Sitting as she was in the passenger seat. Her black camisole with those little spaghetti straps clinging to her slightly sweaty body. She was turned a quarter turn to her left and had her left knee under her chin.

She had taken off her pants as soon as Gabe turned the truck off of the state highway. Katherine was a damned fine looking woman sitting there next to him, and giving him a really clear view of her lower belly, her dark brown fur above and her sexy inner thighs framing her clearly displayed cunt.

She had his Stetson on, and sat there in the passenger seat with her right arm on the open window sill. She was Idly looking out the window at the trees, birds, and the occasional deer. With her left hand she was very slowly, almost absentmindedly, stroking her greasy labia.

“See anything you fancy over here, cowboy.” She said in a mock drawl.

“Why yes madam. I surely do.” He played along.

“Well what ‘cha gonna do about it, cowboy.”

“Might just have to get me a taste of’ that.”

“You want a taste?”

“I do think that I would.”

“Well it does belong to you.”

As she spoke, she turned her two fingers, inserting them into her vagina. Turning them to and fro to liberally coat them with her own one hundred percent natural juices. She then leaned over offering them to Gabe. He leaned to her and licked, no sucked, her fingers clean.


“Wonderful, full bodied, fruity with a hint of musk, and a crisp clean finish.”

“Keep that up and you can have anything you want.”

“And, if I don’t?”

“You still get to have anything you want.”


“Anything that’s currently wearing no pants and getting her pussy juice all over your passenger seat.”

They had arrived at their destination, a gravel parking lot overlooking the Merrimac River. The ruins of an abandoned resort from a hundred years ago nearby. A place to play in the woods as their dropped trailer was being unloaded, its freight cross docked and then reloaded.

As he engaged the cab brakes. Katherine slipped the camisole off, slid the thick curtain behind her to one side and crawled naked into the sleeping compartment. Gabe hopped out of the driver’s seat took a few steps, and pulled his penis out of his pants, releasing a copious amount of urine onto the limestone gravel.

Wearing only a pair of wooden Doctor Scholls’ sandals. Those shoes making an enticing sound on the gravel. Katherine emerged from the sleeper, and walked to Gabe with a small basin half-filled with warm water and a little terry washcloth.

He was setting up the two wooden folding chairs from the tractor’s storage compartment. He took a small rug and unrolled it in front of the chairs, placed a small gym bag on one of the chairs, and stood in front of the other.

Katherine kissed him deeply, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt kissing his chest. One kiss per button. She unbuckled his belt and removed his pants, and took his clothes back to the cab as he sat down in one chair. Returning to him, she took his boots and his socks off.

Then, she began to gently, slowly, softly, erotically, methodically bathe her man. His face, his neck, chest, then arms. His legs, his thighs and his beautiful ‘naughty bits’.

Channeling Michael Palin she asked, “Have these bits been naughty.”

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