The Traffic Jam

My car trip from Indianapolis to Chicago couldn't have happened on a more beautiful day. It was early June, and the sky was cloudless and gloriously blue. It was very warm, but comfortably so, without any of the brutal humidity that often came with summertime in Indiana. I headed up the interstate with the top down on my dark green Chrysler Sebring, rock and roll blaring impossibly loud from the radio so I could hear it over the sounds of the wind and road noise.

I was feeling great. I loved having the warm breeze on my face and the sun on my shoulders as I drove. I had one long strand of hair that stubbornly wouldn't stay in the clip I was using to keep my chestnut brown mane out of my face, and it whipped around wildly, hitting me in the face and tickling my neck.

I was on my way to Chicago to spend the weekend with my best friend, Allyse. Allyse and I graduated from Indiana University together two years ago, and soon after graduation she took a job in the Windy City as the manager of a trendy downtown boutique. I went back to my hometown of Indianapolis and went to work as an advertising manager for a local newspaper.

We vowed to remain the best of friends despite the 200 miles that now separated us, and at least once a month one of us would make the drive to the others' home and spend the weekend. It was my turn to make the trip, but I didn't mind at all. I couldn't wait to see Allyse. I always had a great time visiting her, and she loved showing off her new hometown, taking me to the various restaurants or nightclubs she was constantly discovering.

I had taken off work at lunch time, and traffic was still very light so I was making good time. With any luck I would make Chicago before rush hour.

I entertained myself as I drove by checking out people in passing cars, and if there were any cute guys I would give them my sexiest smile and maybe a little wave. I loved to see if I could get them to acknowledge me in return, and usually they did. I played my little road flirting game often, and I was delighted whenever I'd get a honk or sometimes a guy would even try to signal me to take an exit.

I never did pull off to talk to someone, even though I was sometimes tempted. For the really enthusiastic ones, I would often slide a strap off my shoulder or undo a couple of buttons on my blouse, depending on what I was wearing. I got a thrill out of showing a little skin to complete strangers.

I knew it was probably a little dangerous, but so far I'd never had any guys take it too seriously and try to follow me or anything. Somehow the hint of danger made it even more exciting and I enjoyed it all the more because of it.

About half an hour outside of Indy, I first saw the trucker. He had his driver's side window rolled down all the way, giving me a clear view of him. He was by far the best looking guy I'd seen today, or for that matter, he was the most attractive man I'd seen in quite some time. Of course, I could only see him from the shoulders up, but my imagination made the rest of his body every bit as good as his face.

He had close-cropped dark brown hair, and a strong featured face that was perfectly proportioned and completely masculine. As he gazed down at me from the cab of his truck, I could see that his eyes were icy blue and piercing. I favored him with my best smile, and he returned it with a grin of his own. His smile seemed to light up his face like the sun coming out from behind dark storm clouds, and I could see that he had straight, white teeth. To me, an attractive smile was always a desirable feature. His grin seemed both boyish and mischievous at the same time, and I was immediately intrigued by the handsome truck driver.

He was driving a bright red Freightliner, pulling a trailer with giant tomatoes painted on the side. I paced the truck for quite awhile, staying directly beside him and trying to give him a really good look at me.

I put on my best flirting show for him. I took off my sunglasses, pretending to rub my eyes, and I looked up at him with a smile so that he could see my entire face. My eyes are wide and chocolate brown, and I'm always being told that they're one of my best features, so I naturally wanted him to have a look at them.

I pulled a tube of bright red lipstick from my purse and applied it carefully to my rather pouty lips, part watching the road, part checking my coloring job in the rearview mirror, and part surreptitiously checking to see if the trucker was looking. He was. When I finished with the lipstick, I rubbed my lips together slowly and sensuously, blotting and blending the color. Then I wickedly licked my lips, running my tongue suggestively over them and wetting them.

I was wearing a peach colored tank top held up by tiny spaghetti straps, and with a contrived shrug I managed to slip one of the straps off my shoulder and I let it hang tantalizingly off to the side. Even though my breasts are quite large and I should have been wearing a bra, I had dressed comfortably for the road trip and I hadn't bothered to put one on. Now I was extra glad that I hadn't. With a couple of well-placed brushes of my arm, I had my nipples standing at attention and clearly showing through the thin fabric of my top. I moved to the beat of the music from my radio and my tits bounced enticingly as I shimmied.

I was clad in white denim shorts, and I knew that in my sitting position quite a bit of my tanned thighs were exposed. I caressed my thigh with my fingers, trying to make it appear to be an unconscious gesture, doing my best to draw his attention to my toned legs.

I knew I was being shameless, but I loved the way his smile grew larger and more predatory as he watched me tease him. It was obvious that he was enjoying my little show.

I wanted to keep my car next to his truck, but I had a van behind me that apparently wanted to get around me. With a disappointed sigh, I stepped on the gas and pulled in front of the truck so the van could pass.

I regretfully decided that I had teased the poor trucker enough, and despite the fact that I was enjoying it immensely, I sped up and began to put some distance between my car and the truck. I gave the trucker a little backwards wave as I pulled away, and I laughed delightedly when he gave me a replying blast of his horn.

As I drove on, I couldn't help looking in my rearview mirror until the truck was out of sight. I also couldn't keep myself from fantasizing about the sexy trucker. I imagined climbing up into the truck, and stripping naked for him in the sleeper cab before he fucked me senseless. I could feel myself becoming genuinely aroused as I ran various erotic scenarios starring the driver through my mind. I giggled happily to myself as I realized that I could actually feel myself getting wet between the legs.

Not ten minutes later I reached what appeared to be a massive traffic jam. I was forced to bring my car to a dead stop, and in front of me I could see nothing but an endless line of cars and trucks stretching out to the horizon. I was in the left lane, and I briefly toyed with the idea of moving over to the right lane that seemed to have the shorter backup, but I quickly decided it would be useless. Nothing on the northbound side of the interstate was moving at all, and I noticed that there were hardly any cars passing by on the southbound lanes either.

Oh great, I thought. So much for getting to Chicago before rush hour. By the look of things I wasn't going anywhere in a hurry. Several minutes ticked by, and the line of traffic still had not moved even an inch. With a disgusted sigh, I turned off my car's engine and settled in for what appeared would be a very long wait.

Cars were stacking up behind me in the left lane, and now the backup in the right lane was almost even with where I sat. I was more than a bit surprised when the red Freightliner driven by the gorgeous man ground to a halt directly next to me.

The blue-eyed trucker gave me a friendly smile, and above the sound of his rig's idling engine, I heard his deep, masculine voice. "Hello there," he said, nearly shouting.

I just had to laugh. Here I was, stuck in traffic right next to the man I'd been teasing, and there was absolutely nowhere I could go to escape him. "Hi," I replied sheepishly, "looks like we're in for a long wait."

"Yep," he said, his blue eyes flashing with good humor. "I heard on the CB that a truck hauling some kind of hazardous material dumped his load about three miles ahead. Both northbound lanes are shut down, and only one southbound lane is passable. We're gonna be here for a loooong time."

"Well," I said loud enough to be heard over his truck's engine, "at least it's a beautiful day. This would be really lousy if it was pouring down rain." I did my best to sound nonchalant.

"That's true," he replied, "if it was raining you would have the top up on your car and I never would have gotten such a nice look at you!" His tone of voice and the expression on his face told me he was amused.

I felt myself blushing. He knew that I had been having fun flirting with him, and he wanted me to know that he knew.

I grinned at him, my eyes meeting his gaze directly. "I guess I wanted you to look. I was sure checking you out, too," I admitted.

"No harm in that. I can only hope you liked what you saw," he said, his face growing more serious.

"Oh, there's no doubt about that," I said sincerely. I hoped I wouldn't regret what I said next. "You know, you're welcome to come down here and sit with me so we won't have to shout. If you'd like to talk, that is. To help pass the time."

I laughed out loud as he threw open his door, climbed down, and got into my car in less than 10 seconds flat. "Thanks," he said, "we would have gone hoarse if we'd kept shouting at each other for very long."

He stuck out his hand and introduced himself. "My name is Paul Scovill. It's a genuine pleasure to meet you."

I shook his hand and replied, "Glad you meet you too, Paul. I'm Kim Matthews." I met his gaze directly as I spoke, and although I didn't think it was possible, Paul was even more handsome close up. His eyes were strikingly blue, and his smile was warm and friendly.

His body was even better than I had imagined, and even though I tried not to be too obvious, he had to know that I was checking out his form. From the few seconds I saw him standing upright when he was getting into my car, I could see that he was fairly tall, at least 6 feet, and was nicely proportioned. He appeared to be nicely muscled, but not overly beefy. His shoulders were broad, and his arms were strong-looking and toned. It looked like he definitely worked to keep himself in shape.

Another thing about him that I noticed immediately were his large, manly hands. I had always had a thing for guys with big hands. I am very petite, and something about having a guy's large hands moving over my small body is such a turn on for me.

I could see Paul giving my body the once-over as well. His gaze moved from my face down to my breasts where he paused for a moment. A quick glance downward explained why. My nipples were still rock hard and straining against the filmy peach colored fabric of my top. His inspection continued as he cast his eyes downward over my stomach to what he could see of my legs. When his gaze once again met mine, I thought I could see approval and even longing in his eyes.

We began to talk and get acquainted, and I was delighted to find that Paul was extremely intelligent and well spoken. He was 27, only 3 years older than me. He told me that he was originally from St. Louis and that he'd been driving a truck since he graduated from college. When I asked him why he decided to drive a truck for a living instead of using his business degree and entering the corporate world, he told me that it was simply because he had fallen in love with driving. He had intended to only drive for a year or two at the most, but he found he loved the freedom of the open road and he enjoyed the variety of scenery he passed each day. He said he could no longer picture himself wearing a suit and being chained to a desk at some company somewhere.

I told him a little about myself, about my job and about things I liked to do. He wanted to know where I was heading and I told him about Allyse and my frequent trips to Chicago.

Gradually, the conversation turned other people in our lives. I found out that we both liked to date, but that neither of us was involved in any serious relationships. "One of these days, I'll settle down," Paul told me, "but being on the road so much makes it kind of hard to get serious with anyone right now."

With a sly grin, Paul said, "I do get through Indianapolis 3 or 4 times a month. Maybe you'll let me take you out to dinner sometime."

I was hoping he'd say something like that. I found myself to be very attracted to him, and I hoped that this wouldn't be the only time I'd ever see him. With my sexiest smile, I answered, "I'd love that. Remind me to give you my number before we get out of this traffic jam."

We continued chatting about trivial things, and as we talked, I lowered my seat back and stretched out a bit more so that I could enjoy the sun in a little more comfort. "I love the feel of the sun on my skin," I explained.

"That looks like a marvelous idea," Paul said. With that, he peeled off his blue t-shirt, giving me a marvelous view of his sculpted chest. I swallowed hard looking at his exposed chest. He had a nice covering of dark brown hair, which I loved. My pulse sped up as I could see the way his muscles worked whenever he moved.

We both sat quietly for quite awhile, reclining back and soaking up the sun's rays. I kept watch on Paul, subtly casting glances his way, looking at his attractive body, totally enjoying the view.

It wasn't long before I got really hot from the sun, and even more hot from looking at Paul. I was really turned on by him, and I had such a strong urge to touch him, and to feel him touch me.

Suddenly, Paul's eyes locked on mine, and as if he were reading my mind he said, "You know, Kim, I have some cold drinks in the truck if you're hot. And I could always roll up the windows and turn the air conditioning on." His suggestion sounded innocent enough, but the look in his eyes told a different story. He wanted to get me alone.

My stomach fluttered with anticipation as I answered, "That would be perfect. I could sure use a nice...drink." I gave him my best meaningful look and he shot me a wolfish grin as he climbed out of my car.

I followed him, enjoying the view of his enticing ass as he walked. In a gentlemanly gesture, Paul helped me up into his truck and directed me into the sleeper cab. The sleeper was just like a tiny little bedroom, complete with a small bunk-like bed. Crammed into the tight space he had a ton of stuff, including a medium-sized cooler full of cans of soda and bottled water on ice.

Paul invited me to sit on the bed, and he handed me an ice-cold can of Coke. He sat down next to me, popping the top on his own can. Apparently the can had been shaken up, and it didn't merely foam over, it virtually exploded. Both of us were immediately soaked with the cold, sticky drink. A bit of the spray hit me in the face, but most of it landed on my tank top, plastering it to my skin. Paul mostly got it across his still bare chest.

Paul had a horrified look on his face, and he immediately began stammering, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Kim." I burst out laughing. When he saw that I wasn't angry, he began laughing too and soon we were cackling like a couple of crazy people.

When I was able to talk again, I said, "Thanks a lot for the Coke, Paul!" With a grin, he fished around beside the bed and pulled out a package of Handi-wipes. He moistened a couple of them with some water from a bottle and handed one to me. I wiped the sticky mess off my face as best I could as he scrubbed at his chest.

Looking down at my soaked tank top I said, "I don't think wiping this is going to do any good." Paul's eyes fixed on my chest. The wet fabric clung to my breasts like a second skin and the moisture made my top translucent, clearly revealing every detail of my hardened nipples.

"No," he agreed, "I think that pretty little tank top of yours has had better days." His voice sounded hoarse as he said, "Maybe you should just take it off. I can always give you one of my clean t-shirts to wear."

I grinned at him, thrilled at his suggestion. In one quick move, I peeled the ruined shirt off over my head and tossed it aside. Paul's eyes grew wide and a soft "ohhh" of admiration escaped his lips as he stared at my exposed tits.

"God, Kim," he stammered, "you're like some kind of fantasy come true. You're so damn sexy."

With a sly smile I replied, "Sexy, maybe. Sticky, definitely. I think you should help clean up this mess you've made of me." I passed him the moist Handi-wipe and shot him a meaningful look.

"Well," he said with a grin of his own, "I guess it's the least I can do." With that, he slid over next to me, and with gentle strokes he wiped the sticky Coke off my tits. I leaned back on the small bed, resting my weight on my elbows, giving him complete access to my breasts.

"I think this towel is soaked," he said, "but I don't think I got quite all of it." I groaned with pleasure as he leaned over me and began tenderly licking my tits. He covered every inch of them with his warm, wet tongue, saving the nipples for last. He drew one nipple into his mouth and ran his tongue over it, lightly sucking, then he lavished the same attention on the other.

I was panting with lust by the time he finished his tongue bath of my tits. At that moment, I wanted to fuck this handsome stranger worse than I'd ever wanted anything before. And judging by the size of the bulge in the front of his pants, he wanted me too.

Turning his attention from my breasts to my lips, Paul kissed me, hard. I responded with a fierce tenacity, virtually exploding with lust. The kiss was pure electricity, and soon our tongues mingled together in a passionate dance.

Without breaking the kiss, Paul's fingers found my nipples and began lightly pinching them, causing me to moan into his mouth. I ran my fingers through his short hair and down over the muscles in his arms.

After what seemed like a long time, Paul pulled his lips from mine and growled in a low voice, "I want you, Kim. I want you so bad."

My stomach did a happy flip-flop as I heard his words. "Oh, Paul, I want you too. I want to have your cock in my wet pussy, as deep as you can go."

His blue eyes widened in surprise at my nasty-naughty reply, but his lips curled up into a hungry smile. He stood, unzipping his jeans as he moved. He kicked off his shoes and slid the jeans off his hips and down his legs.

He bent over and pulled his pants off over his feet, then he stood before me, completely naked. As I took in the sight of him, my mouth went dry and I felt my pussy flood with moisture. His body was perfect, masculine and achingly well proportioned. I looked him up and down, trying to memorize every detail of his form. My eyes returned to his cock and locked there. He was well hung, and his long, thick member stood out proudly in front of him.

Finally, I tore my eyes away from his cock and smiled up at him. He bent over and gently pushed me backwards so I was lying flat on my back with my legs dangling over the size of the bed. He carefully slid my sandals off my feet, then he unzipped my shorts and pulled them off my legs, taking my panties with them.

He stood up straight again, staring down at my naked body for several long seconds. Then he sunk down to his knees in front of the bed, where he gently lifted my legs and draped them over his broad shoulders. He leaned forward, and I could feel his warm breath on my pussy.