(c) 2011 by Sir Render
Barbara Hamilton and her husband Nate drove through the sweltering desert along the highway leading north and east from Cajon Pass and Barstow toward Las Vegas. Although there was an element of vacation in their trip, there would also be business when they arrived, and Barbara was dressed for it... at least outwardly. A clean, pressed white cotton blouse and knee length black skirt, tan pantyhose and navy blue pumps gave her a very business professional look, while underneath she wore a sheer lacy blue demi-cup bra which barely covered her areolas.
They were a young couple, having met in college three yeas before when she was 21 and he 19. Nate had known from the moment he saw her that she was the woman he wanted to marry. He'd always had a thing for tall women, and at six feet Barbara was all that and the requisite bag of chips. More than just her height had attracted him, of course. That would be a pretty shallow thing upon which to base a lifelong commitment. There were also her fabulous; full round D cup breasts which stood out well from her slender frame, her shining blue eyes glittering from behind her dark brown bangs and the smooth, even complexion of her skin.
But her best physical feature might have been her lips. Full and pink, they looked always ready to be kissed or, as Nate was lucky enough to find out, ready to suck dick. At university she'd had a voracious hunger for it. Hardly a night went by when she didn't take at least one cock in her mouth... and her pussy, of course. Intending to enjoy sex to the utmost while diligently completing her studies, she had gone on The Pill at an early age.
But she'd found that most of the guys really only wanted her for her body. When it came down to it, none of them wanted to be seen spending any quality time with her because she towered over many of them. Even those who were close to or slightly over six feet seemed intimidated by the fact she could look them straight in the eyes. Oh sure, they enjoyed having her on her knees where they could look down on her; it must have seemed a great conquest to tame "that tall chick", but Nate had been genuinely different from word one. Despite being four inches shorter than she, he still treated her like a delicate rose.
Barbara had repaid Nate's genuine interest by staying true to him once they began dating and giving him her hand in marriage when he graduated now more than a year ago. She still had a lot of sex and sucked a lot of cock, but it was only with Nate now.
Part of the secret to their happy sex life was that Nate encouraged Barbara's penchant for exposing herself in semi-public places and playing with herself where she might be seen by strangers. She enjoyed it because she got to give herself orgasms almost anywhere anytime, and he would get so worked up from watching her and not being able to do anything about it that when they finally made it to bed he was a wild stallion. Over the years she had learned to control his rhythm to make that wild fucking last for a long time, giving herself multiple orgasms before he blew his load and collapsed on her in a panting, gasping heap.
There was, therefore, palpable anticipation in the air as she played with herself in their low car while riding through the desert. Once they'd gotten out of the city, her blouse had been unbuttoned halfway and one or the other breast was subsequently either always exposed or being mauled by her own hand. Well, there was a short time along a straight stretch of road when Nate took one hand off the wheel and squeezed her boob. This allowed Barbara to simultaneously rub her pussy and stroke Nate's cock. Cars which passed them by could almost surely see what she was doing and that thought excited her.
During that long drive through beige countryside dotted with brown brush, Nate's attention was divided between sneaking peaks at his wife and keeping his eyes on the road. He must have looked a little too long at Barbara fingering herself with her legs wide and her tits out because there was a sudden loud thump followed by a hissing noise and their car quickly lost acceleration.
"What was that?!" Barbara shouted. "What the hell was that?"
As it turned out, they were very near to a rest area and he was able to steer the car safely off the main highway before the engine completely shut down a few feet short of a parking space.
The rest area was deserted, as was the road in both directions as far as they could see. Getting out and surveying the area, the only thing Nate could see which he might have hit was a large clump of tumbleweed. "It sure sounded like more than that," he muttered. He returned to the car to check the damage. The car was leaking oil, or perhaps some other fluid, and had left a trail of it from the road to where the car now sat idle.
"Well," Barbara said, getting out and stretching her legs -- not bothering to button up her blouse since there was literally no one for miles -- "might as well see if you can call a tow truck. I'm gonna hit the restroom." She headed off in the direction of the small wooden structure with a rustic carved wood sign on one end which read MEN and another at the far end which read WOMEN.
Nate got on the ground to look under the car and tried to get a signal on his cell phone to call for roadside assistance. His wife returned a few minutes later stating there was a notice tacked up on both restroom doors ("Yes, I also checked the men's room," she told him) about dangerous levels of arsenic having been found in the water supply. The restrooms were closed until further notice so she had relieved herself in the sand behind the small building. Nate went and did likewise, leaving Barbara to try getting a call through on the cellular network.
It was around midday and the heat was nearly unbearable. Barbara found a baseball cap in their trunk which she wore to shade her face. Having little other choice, the pair made their way out to the highway to wait for another car to come along. They talked about whether to ask for a lift back the way they'd come or forward to the next town and decided it all depended on which way the next car was headed.
It took only a few minutes for something to come into view along the road. Nate stepped up to the shoulder and raised a thumb in the universal gesture for hitching a ride. The car blew past him without slowing down, the wind buffeting him almost off his feet. "Yeah, fuck you," he called after as the car vanished into the distance toward Las Vegas.
A big diesel tractor trailer was the next vehicle to come along some minutes later. It was heading back toward Barstow and Nate switched hands to thumb in that direction. The trucker also did not slow down but did blow his air horn as he passed.
