Where's Brenda?

"It's asleep," observed Bob.

"It's a little scared," corrected Brenda. She began to gently massage the area thinking all the while of of her first experience with being nude in public. Her nipple responded willingly and she twisted slightly in her chair to show Bob.

"See. A bit frightened. That's all."

"Love it when you tease me," he returned. "Now the other one. Don't be shy. Bring them both wide out into the open."

"That's not a flash. That's exhibitionism."

"Well, exhibit then," exhorted Bob.

Brenda following the same revealing motion with her other breast. She pulled the blouse open further to make sure both tits stood out proud beyond the fabric. Bob had seen the car coming up quickly from behind and was about to tell her they were going to be passed when he realized she was just as aware of the vehicle, having seen it approaching in the side mirror.

She began to close the blouse but then thought better of it and, instead, pulled the material open again. With that she sat back and waited for the car to draw alongside.

As it passed by the lone male driver looked studiously ahead, not bothering to glance in her direction. After the rush of being almost naked on the highway and now flashing her tits, Brenda felt a little let down. But the games had just begun and now she wanted them to advance to a higher level of difficulty.

"It's your turn," she said to Bob. "I dare you to take your cock out."

"Can do," said Bob none too casually. He reached down, pulled at his zipper until it was fully open, dug inside his shorts and gratefully tugged his erect cock to the fore. Brenda noticed how the head gleamed moist in the diffused light of the dashboard instrumentation panel. It looked almost surreal and very appealing.

"My turn," said Bob. "I dare you to give me a BJ. Right here. Right now."

"I want to. I really do. But I think it's dangerous while you're driving," she replied. "I know you need to get off and I will take care of you, I promise. Just not right now."

"Always later. Well, okay but you owe me big time," said Bob, moving his fingers to his crotch and running the shaft gently between his thumb and forefinger. His voice tight with expectation he decided on another tack and suggested Brenda masturbate herself.

They were entering the built up residential zone of a small city. The passing streetlamps flooded the interior of the car between stark periods of almost total darkness. With each street light he noticed Brenda's position had changed marginally. As if viewing her in slow motion through one of those coin operated peep show boxes, he saw her skirt moving higher across her thighs and then up to her waist. Her naked legs and inner thighs flashed provocatively in and out of the darkness.

Her hand moved down to her groin and in between her legs. Slowly at first, then with more urgency, she moved two long fingers rhythmically into and out of her vagina, stopping periodically to rub her clitoris.

The jagged, staccato movement of her fingers excited Bob to orgasm with little more help from his own hand. He gasped as he ejaculated over the front of his trousers, drawing Brenda's attention. She interrupted her ministrations just long enough to reach into the glove compartment, remove several tissues and hand them to him. She continued then to pleasure herself, tits completely exposed and legs apart, no longer paying any attention to the traffic around them.

As the last of the streetlights disappeared and with deliberate movements, she tilted the car seat as far back as it would go, positioned herself more comfortably and raised both legs until her feet rested on the dashboard. She reached into the map pocket of the door beside her and brought out the vibrator and lubricating jelly she and Bob had purchased over the weekend. Removing the cap of the tube she studiously moistened the entire length of the vibrator. Satisfied at last, and aware the Bob was watching, Brenda turned on the switch and placed the vibrator on her inner left thigh, slowly bringing it up towards her vagina, allowing the tip to rest there briefly.

"Geez, Brenda. I never thought I'd see the day. Never.," Bob managed to stutter. "Not even in my wildest imagination. And that's saying something. You're going to bring yourself off aren't you. Hot dog. I can't wait to see this." Mindful that he hadn't paid any attention to the road for much too long, Bob looked reluctantly away. Seeing no cars ahead of him, he glanced next in the rear view mirror. A transport was coming up quickly and he barely had time to alert Brenda.

"Hon, there's a truck coming up fast. He must be doing a ton or more."

Brenda didn't hear him, or didn't care to. She was moving the vibrator in small, circular motions around and over her clitoris, head back and eyes closed, fully absorbed in the moment. The truck's headlights shone brightly through the back window, so close that Bob could feel the warmth from their glare on his neck.

"Hon, seriously, he's right on our tail. It's like midday in here."

Brenda's hand on the vibrator stopped moving but only for as long as it took her to say: "Don't be so selfish Bob." He looked at her in astonishment. "I don't care if the driver gets a free show. Nor should you," she continued, smiling all the while. "It's a free country after all." And with that she resumed titillating herself.

The transport stayed on their tail for some minutes. Brenda, true to her word, concentrated on moving the vibrator in and out of her vagina, raising her hips slightly to meet each thrust. She was moaning softly now. In between her murmurs Bob thought he heard her say something but he couldn't make out a single word until, quite suddenly, she said with great clarity and sense of purpose: "Okay, I'm ready. Fuck me now. Hard." She pushed the vibrator vigorously the full length into her vagina, doubling her pleasure as she used her free hand to vigorously massage her tits and tug at the nipples.

The truck behind them seemed to be losing ground and Bob wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed that his wife's exhibition was losing a part of the audience. To his surprise, however, the truck did not fall back for long. He could hear the gears shifting as the driver forced the accelerator to the floor, intent on using the distance between them to pick up more speed. 'Shit,' thought Bob to himself. 'What is this? Duel?' referring to the movie starring Dennis Weaver who, as a motorist on a lonely road is stalked by a huge tanker.

He thought about speeding up but given the moonless, dark night and his unfamiliarity with the road, he decided against the idea. He'd just wait to see what happened. He could hear the big Star engine behind him gaining revs and, quiet suddenly, the truck cab was beside them. Close. Too close, hogging the right side of the overtaking lane. Brenda knew, too, that the truck had pulled level. Reclined, with her legs spread wide and the vibrator working her pussy, she had no desire to stop what she was doing.

The truck driver looked over at them, peering into the dimly lit vehicle beside him. He obviously knew what he was searching for and having determined Brenda's outline in the passenger seat, he seemed content to stay just where he was. Bob was quite comfortable returning the driver's stare and even copied his gesture when the driver used two fingers to flash a victory sign and, again, when he linked his index finger and thumb into a circle to signal his appreciation of the show Brenda was giving. After a few more minutes the driver jabbed his finger repeatedly across the vacancy of his cab, pointing to the side of the road.

"I think he means for us to pull over," said Bob a little nervously.

The driver repeated the gesture several more times. Looking ahead Bob noticed a road-sign announcing an inspection station a mile up the road. He glanced over to the driver, pointed at the sign and, taking his hands off the wheel for just a moment, raised both palms facing up as if to query the others' intention. The driver saw the gesture and nodded in an exaggerated way. Bob glanced to his right, prepared to ask Brenda for her decision. Personally, he was not at all confident this would be a smart move.

"Whaddya think?" he asked tentatively, trying to sound casual.

"I think it's okay," replied Brenda as she returned the vibrator and gel to the map pocket. "He seems friendly enough. He just wants to talk probably. We aren't that far from home now and I could use a break anyway. I need to find a washroom." With this she sat up and began to straighten out her clothes.

"If you say so, sweetums. A pee break it is. But let's be careful, okay?"

The station exit was coming up quickly and Bob slowed the car to navigate the off-ramp. The truck, meanwhile, held its speed a while longer, then moved into the lane ahead of Bob, its indicators flashing. The two vehicles exited the highway in tandem and parked almost side by side in front of the unmanned kiosk. The station was deserted.

Bob exited the car first, followed by Brenda who self-consciously walked towards the nearby ablution block. As she passed in front of the truck the driver slipped out of the cab and down onto the pavement. She looked directly at him, said "hi" and continued on her way with a brisk step. Bob immediately made his way over to the driver to introduce himself.

"Name's Bob."

"Trevor," returned the driver.

"Thanks for the heads-up about the station, Trevor," began Bob in his best conversational tone. "Little lady needed a pit stop."

Trevor looked Bob over, squinting through the dim lighting of the parking lot. "Good thing you stopped," he said. There isn't another rest area for probably 30, 40 miles. Where you folks headed?"

"Home," replied Bob. "About an hour and a half drive from here. Little town called Ailsa. Not much there except in the summer when the tourists come by."

"Don't know it," said Trevor. "I'm long-haul. Texas and the Gulf Coast mostly. Sometimes California. I stop when the log book tells me to stop. Sleep right here in the truck."

"Married?" inquired Bob.

"Nah. No too many unhappily married truckers. I'm hitched to the road. It ain't no good tryin' to raise a family and keep the wife happy if you're never home. Have a girlfriend or two in a couple of the big towns along my route. I like to visit with 'em once in a while. I love the life. But it ain't for everyone, that's for sure. Is that your Misses in the washroom?"

"Yep, been married almost 30 years," said Bob.

"Hope ya don't mind me telling you but she is one hot momma. I couldn't see much back there from the truck 'cause we sit so high up but I'm purdey sure she was up to a bit of mischief. Am I right?"

"Yeah, a bit. You could say that."

"You're one lucky guy, Bob. If I had a woman like that, why I might jis be persuaded to sell my rig and settle down. Yessir, could just be. She's summit else, she is."

"Well don't tell me, tell her," said Bob, smiling and nodding in the direction of the washrooms just as Brenda was coming out. "She could use some confidence boosting. I tell her all the time what a fine piece of work she is but somehow my words don't seem to carry much weight anymore."

Bob hadn't seen Brenda take a change of clothes with her so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he saw her making her way towards them, still wearing her black top and flowery skirt. The bow remained undone but she had refastened the buttons. What she may or may not have realized was that the bright lights at the entrance to the washrooms showed off her long, toned legs in fine silhouette as she stepped out into the semi-darkness of the parking lot.

Standing now with the men Bob introduced her to Trevor, adding that the latter had some kind words to share with her. "Oh yeah, what?" asked Brenda, turning to face Trevor for the first time.

"Thanks for putting me on the spot," said Trevor. Looking at Brenda, he continued: "Actually, I was just saying that I thought you were pretty."

"And sexy," added Bob.

"Well, yes, I did say that too. Thanks again Bob."

"That's very kind of you, I must say," replied Brenda. Not hiding her curiosity she peered closely at the stranger. "You're not too bad yourself. I love the goatee. Really suits you," she said chuckling.

With the formal introductions over Trevor suggested they make their way to a picnic table nearby under a lamp post. He had some coffee in a thermos flask he would be happy to share if they were interested. "Nuttin' to buy at this station. Maybe at the next rest area if ya wanna wait to get somethin."

Brenda was first to accept the invitation. As Trevor climbed into the cab to retrieve the thermos she and Bob made their way to the table and sat down, side by side. When Trevor arrived he took a seat opposite Brenda. The low light of the parking lot made for an intimate setting and their topics of conversation varied widely from politics and economics, to sports and current affairs. Trevor was remarkably well read and informed. He explained he worked four days on, three off and so had plenty of time to read voraciously almost anything he could get his hands on.

The three travelers were enjoying their time together but as the night wore on, Bob suggested he and Brenda needed to get back on the road. "So soon?" protested Trevor. "Sure you two won't stay a little while longer. Here, have some more coffee." He poured a generous refill into Brenda's plastic mug without waiting for a response.

A few minutes later Bob excused himself and walked to the car. When he returned he was carrying his camera. "Just bought this point and click digital. It takes pretty good pictures and you can even make movies," he said. "Amazing the technology they can pack into these tiny cameras these days. Tell you what, why don't we snap a few pictures for our album?"

"Fine by me," said Brenda. "Come over this side, Trevor."

As he stood to walk around the end of the table he said: "How do you want me?"

"That's a leading question," Brenda snorted.

"Yeah, I guess it was. I mean should I stand or sit next to her, Bob?"

"If you stand slightly behind her I can just get a bit of the front of the truck in the shot too. A nice reminder of how we met," explained Bob. Trevor positioned himself slightly to one side of Brenda, who remained seated.

Bob, peering through the viewfinder, was having difficulty composing just the right shot. "Something's not working here," he said.

"Trevor, can you stand a bit closer. You look so formal, like you're on guard duty or something." Bob looked through the camera again. "No, still no good. Closer Trevor. C'mon. Brenda, lean back a little against him. There you go. That's better. Now smile like you mean it."

The flash went off and Bob stepped back to view the results. "Better," he said. "Alright, let's try one more. Trevor, this time I want you to put your arm around her shoulder. Try that." Trevor leaned one forearm on Brenda, his hand now suspended in the air before her.

"No. Looks odd. Like the whole shot is posed," complained Bob.

"I know what will help," offered Brenda. Without any hesitation she reached for Trevor, pulled his arm slightly forward and down and placed his hand firmly on her breast. "Casual enough?" she asked Bob.

Bob's throat tightened. His glare at Trevor elicited only a slight shrug accompanied by a broad grin as if the trucker was saying 'What can I do?'

"Uh, yeah. Guess that's plenty casual," said Bob. " Let me see now." Regaining his composure, he framed the picture once more. "I gotta admit. That looks just about perfect." And he pressed the shutter release.

"Okay, we're getting into the groove now. Film and prints are cheap these days," Bob said laughing. "We've got the hang of it. Let's try a few more." He turned his back on his subjects to scan out a new location, a new angle from which to take the next shot. As he turned back to face them, Trevor's hand had migrated under Brenda's blouse. "Hey, hold on just a cotton pickin' minute. Whose idea was that?" Bob exclaimed.

For just a moment he was motionless, staring at Brenda whom he already knew was the instigator. He thought he could see a twinkle in her eye and decided to test her further. "Okay, so that's fine. But why stop there. Just take your boobs out so we can all enjoy," he instructed Brenda, quite certain that this would be enough for her to call the game off.

Brenda smiled, reached up and began to undo the two blouse buttons. "Like this, Bob. Is this what I should do?" As the material fell open to expose a good portion of her breasts she again reached for Trevor's hand and guided it, gently caressing one tit and then the other beneath the soft fabric. As Trevor's hand moved over her chest she pulled the blouse lapels open, fully exposing her breasts so that Bob could view Trevor's hands on her. The nipples were hard, standing erect and proud.

Bob could feel himself becoming fully aroused. Not only was he observing his wife's tits in the hands of a virtual stranger, she appeared to be enjoying herself. In fact she was initiating the action, taking full control of events once again.

"I think that's it. I got all we need for the album," remarked Bob after two more quick, candid shots. "Not for family viewing, though."

As Trevor withdrew his hand and stepped away Brenda made no effort to cover herself. She intended to stay this way. Her relaxed attitude helped both Trevor and Bob accommodate themselves to what was happening between the trio. "I guess we should be going," said Bob somewhat lamely to cover a rare moment of silence between them.

"I guess so," replied Brenda. "Hey, Trevor. What's it like inside one of those rigs. Can I have a look before we leave? I've never been inside a big truck."

"Yeah sure," said Trevor. "Follow me. I'll give you a quick tour."

Brenda squealed with delight, like a schoolgirl let out early for recess. She skipped lightly away from the table and reached the cab first with Trevor just behind. Bob trailed, inspecting the camera and walking at a more leisurely pace. By the time he got to the rig Trevor was instructing Brenda on where to hold and how to lift herself into the cab. "Here," he explained. "This is the easiest way to get in. Grab a hold of the handle here and just step up. Once you've done that, it's a small maneuver to turn yourself around and plonk your butt in the seat. There you go."

Brenda sat in awe of the myriad of dials and gauges arrayed before her. Trevor explained the basic LED dials and analog readouts, what they meant and how the CB radio worked. "Fascinating," she said. Bob could hear in her voice, however, that dashboard clocks and what-nots weren't really going to hold her interest for very long. Twisting in the driver's seat, she looked behind her and up. "What's there, behind the curtain," she asked innocently.

"It's where I sleep," said Trevor. "I can fit a tiny microwave in there, even a small-screen TV and some personal belongings above and beside the bunk. It's all I need really."

"Can I see, please? Can I?"

Trevor pulled aside the curtain to show her the cab's sleeping quarters. "It's really quite large. Big enough for two even."

"This I gotta try," said Brenda. Before either man could offer to help she had worked her way between the seats and climbed onto the bunk, carelessly showing a great deal of leg in the process. "I guess these things weren't designed for women in skirts," she apologized teasingly. "Come on up Trevor. You did say it was big enough for two."

"It is," he replied. He hesitated, turned to Bob and gave him an inquiring look.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever the little lady wants," said Bob. "She calls the shots."

With that Trevor practically vaulted into the cubicle, squeezed past and positioned himself behind Brenda.