Highway Exposure


S. was ready on time as per his instructions.

Impatient for his beloved presence, she paced the house, pausing in front of a full length mirror to check her appearance.

Critically she assessed what she saw. She was tallish for a woman, around 5’8″. Her thick, sherry coloured curls were swept up tightly into a band. Loose, it fell in luxuriant, curling waves to her hips and was a secret, closely held source of pride. She felt sometimes she should cut it but he objected as he loved to bury his face in its sweet smelling bounty and would gather handfuls of silky curls and rub his beautiful cock in them. Her shoulders were broad and straight, her back a breathtaking curve to firm, high buttocks. Her stomach was firm but slightly rounded, a small sweet pouch between the bones of her narrow hips.

Cupping her breasts, she studied them critically. She would have loved more bountiful tits although he never complained. Although small, they were plump and firm with impudent dusky pink nipples and large areolas. The best part was that they were incredibly sensitive.

He would lip them gently, then suckle, pulling more and more of the sweet flesh into his mouth, sucking strongly until she would close her eyes and feel the tug from the back of her nipples straight to between her thighs, an insistent tug on her womb.

She was wearing the short, white skirt he had chosen that morning together with the black tank top. Cut low, her soft flesh swelled out of the top. Pale, silk nylons whispered up her long shapely legs.

Reaching up, she unfastened the clips that held her hair, allowing the rich burnished curls to cascade down around her shoulders and hips, a long tendril slipping into the valley between her breasts. Running her fingers through it she patted the gleaming waves into a semblance of order and grabbing her makeup, went to the mirror.

A brushing of powder, a sweep of mascara and she was ready.

Her pale Irish skin was almost translucent, resistant to sun and incapable of tanning – she had learned long ago to stay away from its harmful rays. Her eyes were large and double-lidded, their irises an intense, deep green flecked with gray and blue. A strong celtic nose, smooth cheeks and a small, expressive mouth with a clear sweet line on the upper lip and a plump, pouting lower lip gave her an interesting and arresting visage if not a traditional pretty face.

The dog barked outside. Clicking on the high stilettos he favoured, her buttocks flexing, calves prominent, she hurried to the front door in time to open it for him.

Coming in, he threw his keys on the side table, put his briefcase down then stepped back to assess her. She stood, hips slightly jutting out, long gorgeous legs flexed, the mass of hair waving and falling silkily about her, the swell of pale breast above the stark black of the tank top, quiescent.

He walked around her, quietly, his eyes narrowed and stern, making her tremble slightly. She felt him at her back, her very nerves so attuned to his presence that it were as if he were touching her. Her sense of self, her barriers, dissolved when he was near, softening, opening, as if spiritually he could enter and claim her as he did physically.

She felt his warm hand on her back, barely touching, he trailed his fingers down over the taut buttocks to the bottom edge of the skirt. With one finger, he delicately lifted the skirt, exposing the pale flesh at the top of her nylons, then lifting higher, he studied the play of muscles in her buttocks, the sweet sight of the scarlet thong emerging from the dimpled cleft of her ass.

With the barest of pressure, he pushed into the small of her back. Obediently, she bent forward, feeling her ass cheeks flex and open slightly. She felt the slight push again. Breathing a deep breath out, she bent completely forward, her forehead touching the front of her calves, hands clasped behind her ankles.

He watched as her entire groin was exposed from the silk clad cleft to the narrow line of her thong barely masking the furled beauty of her anus. Her thighs, long and supple were taut, the firm cheeks of her ass gaped slightly, giving him ingress to her most private parts. He took his finger and ran it along the line of the thong. Scent suddenly filled the air, a musky perfume as her sex dampened the silk cloth.

Gently, but surely, he pushed the strip of material aside and then suddenly, with no warning, thrust his stiffened finger up her cunt. She gasped, and without conscious thought, pushed back, impaling herself further on his finger.

A sharp slap reddened the cheek of her right buttock, she stopped. Crudely, but unbelievably erotically, he fucked her with his stiff finger. She felt her cunt swell and dampen. Clutching her ankles tightly, she willed her hips to stay still, fighting the almost unbearable urge to push them against him. She opened her tightly shut eyes and stared between her slightly spread legs at his beloved self.

Pulling his finger clear he commanded her kuşadası escort to stand straight. A bit dizzy, she complied and obeying the pressure on her hip, turned to face him. He held his hand before him, glistening finger extended.

Capturing her eyes with his, he slowly and methodically raised it to his face. First he held it beneath his nose, inhaling deeply her intimate scent, then his tongue flickered out. Fascinated she watched as he carefully licked her off his finger, sucking the last tendrils of dampness into his beautiful mouth.

Then, grinning, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his own, running his tongue into the soft warmth of her mouth, allowing her to taste her own juices. He was happy, she was content.

Moments later, he had had a quick shower and was set. Pocketing his keys, he grabbed her hand and pulled her outside to the car.

The top of the sporty convertible was already retracted, the soft leather interior open to the elements. Laughing, she lifted one long leg and hopped in over the door. Buckling in, they were quickly on their way – heading for the highway. Turning west and then north, he headed up towards cottage country.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see, don’t be so impatient,” he admonished her.

She wiggled, trying to pull the skirt down over her ass more. The car was small and her legs were long; together with the stiletto heels she was nervous she was flashing far more than a flash of thigh. Leaning over, his eyes still on the road, he grabbed her thigh.

“Leave it – I want to be able to look over and see most of your legs and maybe your thong,” he said.

“But everyone else will too!” she said.

“That’s the idea.” His voice was amused. “You know I like it when others can see my girl.”

With that, he tugged at the skirt so it was pushed even further up and the scarlet of her thong was clearly visible.

To her relief, traffic was starting to drop off. She felt extremely exposed in the small compact car. Vans, trucks and other vehicles had an uninterrupted view of her legs and crotch, making her feel self-conscious yet at the same time, causing a guilty rush of excitement which made her feel sexually hyper-sensitive.

He flashed a devastating grin at her; inside, her heart contracted.

“Reach in and pull your tits out,” he instructed, “don’t undo your bra, just pull them out and let them sit on top.”

Shocked, she looked at him a bit incredulously.

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in an open car!” she said.

“DO IT!”

A little angry, she complied.

Reaching in, she cupped the soft plump flesh of her left breast and managed to pull it up and out. Then the right. She blushed furiously as the air hit her sensitive exposed nipples which hardened immediately. Like small dark pink fingers, they pushed out from her chest impudently. The jostle of the car caused her breasts to bounce slightly. The feel of the exposed breasts in the open air was both disconcerting and exciting. Reaching over, he gently cupped a breast, his other hand firmly on the wheel. Squeezing, he made her gasp, her breast swelling.

A discordant blast suddenly tore through the air, making her jump violently. To her right, a huge transport truck suddenly pulled up beside the car. From high atop the cab, a bearded face grinned down at her. Mountain Man, she thought inconsequentially, that’s what he looked like.

Squealing, she tried to cover her exposed tits – but D slapped her hand away. Pushing her back against the seat, he caused her breasts to push out even more obviously. Again, the horn split the air as the trucker drank in the sight of two lovely soft tits open to his view, which together with the long, beautiful legs were enough to make a dead man stiff.

Horrified, yet aroused, she stared up. One eye on the road, one drinking in the sight of her exposed self, the trucker was on his CB.

“He can see my boobs!” she said.

“I know, I want him looking at them – I want him to see your gorgeous tits and want to suck them and squeeze them,” he answered calmly.

“Now, pull up your skirt further – I want him to see your cunt too.”

Matching action to words, he tugged insistently at the skirt.

Embarrassed but obedient, S. lifted her ass lightly, allowing her to tug the tight skirt up past her hips. The cheeks of her ass were now on the soft leather of the seat but she had her legs pressed closely together. A roar on the other side caught her attention, snapping her head up.

Yet another transport pulled up, hanging from the passenger window, a boy had the window cranked open and was peering down into the convertible.

She pressed her eyes tight together, feeling a mixture of helplessness and resentment, ignoring the frisson of sexual excitement which was causing her to dampen the seat.

“Spread your legs and pull your knees up,” D. said quietly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, kuşadası escort bayan still somewhat defiant.

“NOW,” he raised his voice.

Frowning, she suddenly thought to hell with it, glaring at him, she snapped her knees apart and up, grasping them and pulling them apart and up towards her face. A blast of the air horn from the truck beside her rent the air as the truck swerved, then righted itself.

Her entire slit lay open, nether lips gaping slightly, the air cooling her heated inner core, drying the sweet nectar which despite her outrage, insistently bedewed her thighs.

She rested her head against the headrest behind her head, closing her eyes, removing herself from her present reality.

Taking deep yogic breaths, she calmed, focused, looked inward and explored her tumultuous thoughts. The outside world receded from her consciousness, the rumble of the trucks now flanking their small automobile, the hiss of the wind and the feel of the cool air on her exposed sex floating away.

Instead, she saw in her mind’s eye her sprawled, open legs, her slit from clit to anus exposed and open, her soft breasts, now flattened slightly against her chest.

She saw the truckers and imagined them within the cabs of their megalith vehicles, pricks stiff and most likely exposed, calloused hands rubbing thick shafts. She envisioned with clarity and perception the clear sweet fluid trickling form the tips of their cocks.

Mountain Man and Billy the Kid, she giggled to herself.

A flush enveloped her, a wave of heat which swept from her mind down the length of her long body, stiffening the pink nipples, making her breasts swell and then down into her groin, where almost immediately, the outer lips of her cunt begin to plump and swell, her clit distended and peeking between the tight furl of inner lips.

She breathed deeply, fully, expanding her rib cage, feeling the goddess rise within her chest and extend outward.

No longer victim, but sweet submissive, powerful in her submissiveness.

She snapped open her eyes and pulled her knees tightly to her chest. One hand went down and delicately probed and flicked between her legs. She turned her face deliberately and provocatively towards D..

He was watching, his hands steady on the steering wheel. She reached and gently cupped the bulge which tents out the front of his pants. She closed her eyes and rubbed the length of his stiff, engorgement, feeling as if in Braille, the width of his erection.

“Pull it out,” she hears.

Looking up she meets the lustful gaze of the truck’s passenger.

Returning her attention to D., she unzipped, then reached in and managed, with some difficulty to pull D’s stiff prick from its tight prison.

The truck on her left suddenly accelerated and pulls away. Before she could monitor this new development, yet another truck pulled up beside her. The face peering down is dark, weathered and rough, clean shaven but full of crags and crannies of experience and disappointment. The eyes peered down, jaded and experienced.

Ignoring him, she bent to her task. Turning in her seat, fighting the seat belt and finally loosening then removing the strap across her chest but retaining the hip belt, she bent, ensuring that her pale, firm ass was fully visible, the sweet crack pulled slightly apart so the rosy beauty of her anus and the flushed pink of her cunt are just visible.

Then opening her lips, she engulfed D in one swift, firm swallow. She felt him jump slightly, then relax; his hand came off the wheel and pushes her head down firmly, pushing the stiff jut of his erection further down her throat. Gagging reflexively, she forced herself to relax until her throat softened and accepted the thick, moist treat being offered.

His cock tasted tart and slightly astringent, a pongy sharp taste that filled her nose and engulfed her senses.

Unconsciously she groaned, then pulled her soft mouth up and then down, her tongue sweeping up the sensitive underside of his prick, its stiff tip delicately probing the uncircumcised head, licking around the fold of skin and flicking the frothy clear fluid starting to well out of the slit down her throat.

She felt his hand on her head tighten and then clasp her hair, hard, pulling her head up out of his groin. Fighting, she struggled to retain his prick in the prison of her mouth, but he pulled harder, and with a pop, she was forced to release his cock.

The truck beside her accelerated and pulled ahead while the one behind and to the left dropped slightly to the back. A flashing light reflected off the rearview mirror.

She scrambled back into her seat, frantically trying to straighten her shirt and pull down her skirt. D. prevents her.

“There’s a cop!” she yelled.

“Leave it, I want your cunt exposed,” he said.

She wanted to disobey but can’t. Trembling slightly, she concurred and left the skirt up, exposing the shaved slit and tight lips escort kuşadası of her sex. Her ass is flattened slightly against the soft leather of the seat, and a musky, intense and clean odour is evident and distracting even in the open air convertible. She realizes her juices have slicked the seat, coating its soft exterior in dampness.

D. pulls to the side of the road and awaits the cop who has now parked behind.

There is a pause of a few minutes as the cop runs their license plate. Her heart beats frantically within her breast. Looking over, she sees that D. has managed to push his stiff prick back into his pants, although the bulge continues to advertise his arousal.

He caresses her cheek, then gently reaching down, pulls her top up, so one breast, its tip stiff and engorged, is visible.

The cop, an RCMP officer in the brown sacking cloth of their highway uniform strides to D’s door. He is tall and extremely well muscled, the jodhpur legs of his pants tight around the waist and crotch, clearly outlining his long, thick penis, pulled slightly to the left. His height combined with the size of their car means her eyes directly meet the line of his sex.

Looking up, she sees his eyes are glued on her cunt and embarrassed, she drops her gaze only to close her eyes as she sees her own slit so open to his gaze.

He speaks sternly to D., who answers softly. There is a soft whispered conversation then D gets out of the car. Together, the cop and D walk away, conversing intently.

Several minutes later D returns. She twists and watches the cop walk back to his cruiser.

“Did we get a ticket? she asks. “What is going on?”

D. smiles and says not to worry.

Buckling up, he pulls out after carefully looking.

Ahead, S. sees several of the trucks that had been ogling her ahead of her – they had simply slowed down and pulled over. The cop car pulls parallel, then passes. D follows.

“Where are we going?”

He reassures her, tells her again that he has taken care of things.

They came to a road splitting off from the highway; there, the cop car signals and following suit, D veers right. The road is long and two lanes, meandering through fields first, then an increasing number of trees. Several miles down, the trees thicken and the road narrows.

The sun is low on the horizon and the soft, muted light of dusk is colouring the world quiet. Ahead, the taillights of the cop car blink and flicker and mesmerized, S. finds herself relaxing. She breathes the clean air gratefully, stretching, her breasts jiggling as she yawns.

Then behind her, she first senses rather then consciously hears, the rumble of big trucks. Turning, she sees headlights about a mile behind her of not one but several vehicles.

“The trucks are coming this way too,” she says puzzled.

“I know,” D. answers, “the officer was on the CB to them.”


“You’ll see.”

The taillights ahead flicker, then flash on and the right signal light starts blinking. The thick copse of trees seems impenetrable until suddenly an opening appears, flanked by white gates.

The cruiser is idling, its red light quiet as the cop moves the gates.

Following, D. turned the car into a picnic area. Tables dotted the verdant landscape, screened by large willows and stately maples. A tangle of wildflowers and marsh grass tumbled to the shore of a small, placid lake. The cruiser pulled to a stop beside a towering oak tree, its large gnarled limbs leaning out and over the table beneath. D. parked beside him and turned off the engine.

The rumbling in the distance increased and, one by one, the three large trucks rumbled into the clearing, barely clearing the narrow gateway. Silence returned as the great engines rumbled to a stop, leaving an echo in the placid dusky air of the park.

S. feels trepidation as for a moment, all is quiet. The cop stood straight beside his cruiser. The blank tinted windshields of the trucks masked the interiors. Then a door opened and her Mountain Man stepped to the ground. He is around 50, grizzled, with strong, calloused hands. The sleeves of his t-shirt are rolled up, showing muscled tattooed arms. A firm beer belly filled out its white front.

A door slammed and two figures descended from the second truck, Billy the Kid and Dad she surmised, noting the resemblance between the two. The father had thinning blond hair, wispy and fine, combed back straight from his forehead. His son, around 19, is muscled and fit, only a hint of softness around the chin and slightly soft belly. His hair was thick and long, falling to his shoulders in pale waves.

She recognized the boy who told her to pull out D’s cock and blushes.

The third driver descended from his cab. A black man, he is thickly muscled with a shaved head and strong stocky legs. She met the world-weary eyes, lit now with a frisson of lust.

Silently, they come towards the group in the middle. Standing straight, without raising his voice but somehow exuding confidence and control, D tells them the rules.

The cop has agreed not to charge them on the following terms – everyone gets to watch her being fucked – but only by D – however, D has agreed that the cop will get his cock sucked at the same time.

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