Mary Rose
In the car on Interstate 75, Mary Rose watches the traffic slow and come to a crawl.
Retired from teaching at a Detroit elementary for thirty years, the lure of pleasant weather and no state tax on my pension made Florida the desired location for her to spend her senior years. Never being married gave her the deciding vote on the subject.
Ralph, her significant other, chose to stay in Michigan with his lifelong friends,
daughter, and grand kids.
Missing her great blow jobs, he comes to visit or visits to cum. However
you choose to look at it.
"Oh hell, there is a freakin' parking lot developing in front of me," she murmurs.
"I am in the middle lane wedged between four large trucks. I feel like a single family house surrounded by skyscrapers."
Dressed for a hot day, she is covered by a light pool dress with matching underwear, no bra. At age fifty nine, she is happy with her body and doesn't mind showing off the parts.
Noticing that the glass on in her car's front windows is not tinted and she is quite visible to the truck drivers, she decided to play mind games with the truckers.
"Might as well have some fun," she mused, then face timed Ralph's number.
"Whassup?" the familiar face was on my I phone.
"I'm stuck in gridlock and need to pass the time."
"What do you have in mind?" he asked.