(This short story continues the adventures of Miles from the earlier story titled "Laramie (https://www.literotica.com/s/laramie)." Reading "Laramie" first may set the stage for this tale.)
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I've been a trucker for almost twenty years. I learned to drive in the military, where I earned the moniker "Miles" and continued when I returned to civilian life. My first wife, whom I met in the Army, couldn't adjust to the long days I was away from home and called it quits after seven years.
My second wife was a trucker like me. She worked for a competitor company but we were able to schedule our hauls so we could meet on the road when we weren't home together. The arrangement worked well for both of us. We understood the rigors of the job and the temptations as well. We agreed that what happened on the road remained on the road. That was a good philosophy in theory but reality was something different.
I'd been hauling loads between Oklahoma City and cities in the northwest and western Canada when a major temptation landed in my lap and my bed.
When I returned from Spokane, I was scheduled for a ten day break. My wife was already home and would be for the next six days. I was extremely cautious about any reference to my adventures in Laramie, but Cindy was acting differently than usual. Our sex was frequent but without the usual energy. I'm sure I wasn't doing or saying anything unusual, but somehow Cindy was doing that intuitive woman thing that men don't understand. I didn't know how she knew but I was pretty sure she did. We never discussed it but over the next year, things cooled further, until we were almost never home together and never scheduled in the same place at the same time. After another year we agreed that we weren't going anywhere as a couple and Cindy filed for divorce and I didn't object.
Life after Cindy was lackluster. I managed a couple of trips through Laramie looking for Lucy, with whom I had been working on a relationship, but she was off with some other trucker and hadn't returned. Eventually I realized I needed to leave Oklahoma City to actually finalize the divorce. I talked it over with my supervisor and managed a transfer to the east coast.
The move offered longer routes and the potential for more money. The area around Carlisle, Pennsylvania wasn't very appealing but I would rarely be there. I found a low cost rooming house to establish a local address and got my Pennsylvania commercial driving license. I took some runs into New England and south to Florida. It was new territory for me and I soon felt comfortable in my new routine.
However, I actively sought longer west coast hauls. I could do the west coast and back in ten days. I avoided Oklahoma when I could, choosing routes through Utah or Texas instead. It was during one of these coast-to-coast journeys that I met Trixie.
Trixie was another trucker. She dressed the part. She wore oversized blue jeans and a flannel shirt with steel toed boots and a Valvoline cap. I met her in a nowhere Texas diner that served trucker food, chili, ribs and beef stew, and rented rooms by the hour in the back. We were both hungry and needed to take three hour breaks before we could motor on.
We ate at adjacent tables until Trixie picked up her bowl and mug and moved to my table. As she was taking the seat across from me I could see she had a body under the red and black tartan flannel shirt. The conversation was short and to the point and ended with Trixie asking, "What are you doing for the next three hours?"
I hadn't formed a plan, so, what the hell, why not follow her lead and see where it takes me. It took me to cabin number six with the understanding we'd screw, and more, for most of the time, clean up, and leave without commitments or regrets. That was perfect for the mood I was in.
Cabin number six was furnished better than I expected. There was a queen sized bed, a high definition TV sitting on a worn but usable dresser, a small desk with a chair and a bathroom with an oversized shower. Once inside, it was clear Trixie as not planning to waste any time as she removed her cap and tossed it on the desk as I closed and locked the door. As her long, tawny hair fell off her head, over her shoulders and down her back I realized that Trixie was also furnished better than I expected.
As she began to unbutton her shirt, she looked at me and asked, "What are you waiting for? You've already got the invitation, what else do you need?"
I began to remove my shirt and by the time I had it off, Trixie was removing the dark blue T-shirt she wore underneath her shirt. I pulled my T-shirt over my head, and when it cleared my face I was staring at an exquisite pair of oversized breasts. Trixie wore no bra and she didn't need one. Her breasts were firm, without droop, and her nipples pointed upward directly at my eyes. As she was unbuckling the wide belt of her jeans, she looked up and noticed that I noticed and had paused in my undressing.
"What? You've never seen tits before?"
"Not like those," half stumbled out on my mouth.
She beckoned me to come closer. When I was within reach, she took my right hand and placed it on her left tit. When it became clear I was suffering a mild paralysis, she placed her hand on top of mine and squeezed, forcing my hand into her flesh. Message received. I moved my other hand to her right tit and squeezed both without further assistance.
While I was mesmerized by squeezing tits, Trixie used her now free hands to undo my belt, jeans and fly and pushed my pants, along with my underwear, down to my thighs. She gripped my erection in both hands. How I managed not to cum right then is still a mystery.
