Empty Nester 03 - Bi-Curious
A loving husband offers his bi-curious wife a hall pass
Author's note: This story is the third in a series titled "Empty Nester." The first story set the stage for all the remaining chapters of this adventure. All future stories will continue to chronicle the events of these three lovers. It would be best to read them in order. All characters are fictional, consenting, and over the age of 18. This story is a complete figment of my imagination and not based on any real events or characters. I love to read comments as long as they are constructive.
...
The curtains of the big semi-truck's plush sleeper unit flew open as the woosh of the truck's air brakes signaled it had stopped. Marcy looked over at me, her disheveled hair partially covering her pretty face. My eyes scanned her lovely naked body as the moonlight danced across her soft skin.
"Fuck, I need to pee," she said as she struggled to pull the plush white robe over her sexy body.
"Hang on," I replied as I reached for my bra and thong that were heaped in a pile on the floor next to my seat.
"Fuck that!" Marcy exclaimed as she climbed over me and exited the truck. "Unless you want me to squat and pee right here, you had better get your butt out here."
I wrapped my robe tightly around my body and tied the belt securely. Marcy, on the other hand didn't seem to bother with securing her robe. She held one side of her robe over and covered most of her privates, but our brisk pace left it swinging freely, occasionally baring her goods.
It was very early in the morning, about two-thirty if I had to guess, so the place was pretty quiet. George was busy refueling the truck and just watched as the two of us paraded off across the massive parking lot. What a sight we must have been.
...
"I guess I didn't really think about this part of truck driving," I said as I applied multiple layers of toilet seat covers to the stained and worn toilet seat. How about you?"
"Yeah, not some much," Marcy's timid voice answered from the stall next to mine. "I can probably count the number of times I actually pooped in a public ladies room on one hand, and I am not sure this even qualifies as that. Did you see the condom and tampon machines on the wall by the door? Could you imagine having to buy your personal hygiene items in a place like this?"
I just looked around at the graffiti on the walls of the stall and shook my head in disgust.
"I don't think I can do this Marcy," I sighed as I closed my eyes.
"Do what?" Marcy questioned.
"Go poop." I sighed. "I really have to go, but I have never been able to do it in a public bathroom, and surely not in a disgusting place like this."
"If it's any comfort, I locked the door behind us so no one else will interrupt,"Marcy reassured. "And if it's the smell you are worried about, I'm pretty sure mine will trump yours. No one has ever told me that my shit didn't stink."
We both had a good chuckle, but my anxiety level didn't change.
"Tell me a story," Marcy said. "Sometimes I make up little stories in my head to take my mind off things like this."
I thought for a minute before responding. "What kind of story?"
"Do you remember that creative writing class we took together in college? The one where the professor would randomly pick a student and make them stand in front of the class and just make up a random story for a given scenario. You were always really good at that."
"What the heck," I replied as I tried to recall some of the different scenarios we heard in class. "Okay, what's the storyline, and how much detail do you want?"
Marcy thought for a second. "Okay you have to narrate a story about two forty-something-year-old women who somehow ended up driving across country dressed only in their sexy underwear and soft fluffy robes. They both had to pee badly and a disgusting truck stop was the only thing close by."
"Oh, you mean just like us," I responded sarcastically. It's kind of hard to get my mind off what I'm doing if I simply make it into a non-fiction story."
"Okay, lets add a little twist. When they get to the restroom it is closed for cleaning." Oh, Marcy voice was starting to sound a little more excited. "One of us has to fuck the guy who is cleaning the bathroom. He's a virgin."
I thought for a second, pressed my hand to my hard abdomen. I knew I wouldn't be able to bounce down the rough road in that big truck much longer in this condition.
"Fine," I responded. "But fair warning, you're going to be the slut and I'm your wingman. An X-rated version of Thelma and Louise. Are you sure you locked the door?"
"Door's locked, bring it on girl."
I just closed my eyes and tried to picture the most ridiculous thing I could imagine happening in this bathroom. I could feel a naughty little grin begin to form on my lips as the story started to develop somewhere in the dark recesses of my subconscious.
...
"Here goes."
Two, kind of slutty women scurried toward the rundown truck stop convenience store in search of a bathroom, both dressed only in skimpy lingerie and bathrobes. One of the women, her name was Marcy was definitely sluttier than the other. She didn't even bother to fully conceal her nakedness under the soft robe.
"Hey," Marcy interrupted with a chuckle. "Remember what the professor always said, don't just tell a story about someone else, tell it as if you were one of the characters. Make it personal."
"Okay," I responded. "But you have to promise, no more interruptions."
"Deal."
The older lady behind the counter pointed the direction to the lady's room but started to say something as we rushed toward the back of the small truck stop convenience store. We weren't listening. We were desperate.
We followed the signs directing us to the women's restroom only to find one of those dreaded "Closed for Service" signs. We stopped at the entrance and peeked in. The door was blocked open, and we could see a young male attendant busily cleaning one of the toilets. By now Marcy was beyond desperate, her hand was planted firmly against her robe covered crotch, her butt swaying seductively to the rhythm of the pee-pee dance.
"Fuck it!" Marcy exclaimed as she stepped around the closed sign.
"Sorry mam," a polite deep voice interjected. "I will be out of here in a few minutes."
There were only two stalls in the rundown bathroom, one the attendant was cleaning, the other with an "Out of Order" sign taped to the door. Without hesitation, Marcy backed up to the sink, lifted the back of her robe and pushed her butt back. The look on her face clearly signaling relief. Without thought, I followed suit, backing up to the other sink. God this felt so naughty, but when you gotta pee, you gotta pee.
Marcy and I both seemed to notice the look on the attendant's face at about the same time. He was standing, facing us, his mouth agape, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us, desperately seeking a peek. What happened next came as a complete surprise to me. Even as I recite this, I can't imagine what came over me. Now Marcy, on the other hand, well she was just being Marcy.
Marcy and I both turned our heads, locked eyes, nodded. As if rehearsed, we both slid back farther over our respective sinks, opened our robes, and spread our legs wide. Not a word was spoken. Not a word needed to be spoken. The young attendant just smiled broadly and glared in total amazement.
When I glanced down at Marcy, I could clearly see a stream of yellow pee as it mixed with the thick white globs of my husband's cum that was dripping from her gaping pussy. I had almost forgotten that he had pumped her full of cum about eight hours earlier, and this was vivid proof. She looked so completely slutty as her hand reached down and her fingers pulled her lips apart, further encouraging the sticky goo to escape. One thing I have to say about George, that man can cum. Over the years, I had gotten in the habit of wearing panty liners for a couple of days after sex.
I couldn't help but notice the attendant's eyes as they drifted from one obscenely displayed crotch to the other. Marcy noticed as well. What she did next would make a porn star blush. It's one thing to pee in front of a complete stranger - a young innocent looking male stranger at that. But her next move was borderline disgusting.
Next to Marcy on the counter were two boxes, one labeled condoms and the other labeled tampons. Clearly, one of the attendant's jobs was to refill the two machines hanging on the wall. I always thought it was a little disgusting to see a condom machine in a women's bathroom, and I could never imagine putting a vending machine tampon inside me. You have to remember, this trucking thing was all pretty new to me, and I was still very naΓ―ve. Truck stops are just very different places.