I was heading east for what I swore would be the last time. My wife had moved out west and this had been my third attempt at reconciliation. It had been the longest nine months and was the third and last try.
One morning I finally woke up to the realization that the hot girl of my dreams had evolved into a frigid, controlling, and bitter bitch. At sometime over our forty years together everything had become my fault, including the politics of the day. What made it even more painful was that despite her D-cup tits and beautiful butt cheeks sagging quite a lot I still found her intensely desirable and she found me repulsive because I said that.
I packed and left. I wasn't even sure where I was going but I figured that the place I had been happiest was a good place to start. I called an old friend there and he invited me to spend a night or two and promised to find a place for me. I gave him my budget and he said I'd have no problems. He called me the next day and had a place that would work. I knew the complex and also knew that it was a clothing optional resort. That was not a problem. After spending all those months in the cold dry mountains wearing long pants, socks, and flannel shirts: the thought of being nude in the hot humid air of Florida was very appealing.
I drove for thirteen hours, only stopping for fuel. The lower my altitude and the further east I got, the better I felt. I knew I would always miss my wife and the life we once had but I also knew that it was finally over. I decided to stop somewhere in Mississippi. I found a decent enough motel, registered, and toted me bag to the room. I went back to the front desk, and inquired about dinner options. The desk clerk recommended the Asian buffet place next door. That was usually not my optimal choice for dining but it was within walking distance and that was a plus.
The place was pretty much empty which made me a little suspicious, but the hostess said I was lucky to beat the crowd that was expected after a local school event concluded. I walked the buffet line and everything looked clean and fresh. I ladled out some soup and made a small salad to start. Both the miso soup and the ginger dressing were very good. As I slurped my soup, I watched a youngish lady walk in alone. She was probably in her late twenties or early thirties. Some might consider her a little over-weight but I prefer Reubenesque.
Her back was to me as she approached the buffet and she wore skin-tight leggings that covered all but hid nothing. Her ass was magnificent. When she turned the corner on the buffet table I saw the silhouette of ginormous tits that were totally unconstrained by a bra. When she turned the next corner and gave me a frontal view I saw the outline of her pouting pussy lips. I readily admit to being a slave to large labia and big tits. Her face and hair were nothing remarkable. Her hair was mousy brown and her face was pretty plain. She did, however, have what I would call a generous mouth with large lips and a slight overbite.
I was surprised when she came to my table with her plate full of oysters. She asked if it was OK to sit there and, of course, I agreed. She told me she hated to eat by herself and I acknowledged that eating with some one was always preferable. She asked if I was a local and I told her that I was just passing through on my way back east. She volunteered that she was heading west.
I excused myself, rose, and went to the buffet to harvest a generous amount of sushi. She smiled as she looked at my plate. "You must like that stuff. I've heard that some men think that if it tastes fishy they should eat it. Are you one of those? I pretended to ignore her innuendo, but my cock stirred and I salivated a bit. I asked how her oysters were. "A little slimy, but nice and salty, just the way I like things." She ordered a flask of sake and I joked that it might put her right to sleep. Her response, that it wouldn't put her to sleep but might get her to bed, left no doubt in my mind as to what she wanted. I reached out my hand and started to introduce myself.
She put her finger to her lips to shush me, "Please; I'm not trying to be rude but I don't really care what your name is. I don't really care where your from or where you're headed. I've been driving all day and my car stereo broke and would only play the last two tracks of an old Sinatra CD. I listened to Strangers In the Night and That Lady is a Tramp for hours. When I finally turned it off the songs were still whirling in my mind and I sang them silently. The only difference was that I substituted slut for tramp and a few other phrases were changed as well. I thought about it so much that I wet my seat. If I had found a young hitch-hiker I probably wouldn't be here now. I'd be in some rest stop getting my brains fucked out and wearing out my lips and throat."
