The Overpass

"Did you see the forecast?" I not-so-casually quip to Cyan over my eggs and toast. "It's finally warming up into playtime weather."

"Yeah. Sunny, warm and slightly breezy. 82 for the high. What do you have in mind?"

"Oh, I dunno. Maybe some fun with that dress Beth shortened for you?"

Beth is our neighborhood seamstress.

"You mean shortened for you!" she smirks.

"Well, yeah," I acknowledge.

It's well above the knees, and was a flirty length to begin with. Fabric is soft and pliable, and the slightest breeze tickles her nether regions.

She inhales in a resigned sigh, "Okay. I'm guessing you want to do the overpass, right?"

"Yup. Late lunch after?"

"If you're figuring on Carver's for lunch, I'm interested. You know I love their sundaes."

"Deal."

We go about our chores, all not particularly interesting but needing to be done nonetheless, then start pulling ourselves together for the drive to "the overpass". It's not quite an hour away.

Cyan is on the mature side of life, but has been blessed with a Scandinavian physique that belies her years. She is definitely eye candy: oh-so-svelte, modest and firm breasts, great curves, long platinum blonde hair, and an awesome tushie highlighted by subtle Venus dimples that, frankly, drive me crazy. We've been together for decades and I still cannot get enough of seeing her in the altogether.

I like to show her off, and she gets a kick out of it, too. So to this end she and I enjoy her flashing truckers from expressway bridges, particularly overpasses with no access to the main highway. There are certainly overpasses a lot closer to home, but what makes this one special is the guardrails, simple pipes from the original expressway construction. All the others of similar style in the region have either had the pipes replaced with concrete barriers, or a secondary beam has been added. The upgrades block the view of any pedestrian on the bridge from the highway. The original pipes on this one afford clear viewing.

One of the other attractions of this particular overpass is no traffic to speak of on the road it serves. It's a deep rural access road, nothing more than a way to get to a couple of farms a mile away, and is a half-mile from the surface highway turnoff to it. That sort of explains the lack of upgrade. Its isolation certainly works well for our purposes.

When we have played this game at night, she casually saunters across overpasses like this totally nude. Given the right side road, the risk of discovery is very low, with a minute or two of notice in both directions. However, after two or three summers of this and not getting any reaction from below, we finally deduced that she could not be seen. So, yeah, we were having fun with her exposing herself, but to what end other than exciting each other? We have mused about trying this during the day, raising the ante considerably, but dismissed it as entirely too risky.

Our chatter on the drive is nothing special. Considering the anticipation of the unabashedly sexual public display, we might touch on other sexy topics such as her three boyfriends, who she sees infrequently these days due to distance and other interfering situations. It's been six months or more since she fucked David, we manage to keep just missing Andrew nearly every time we visit our common venue, and Jon has family and work issues that make it difficult to schedule get-togethers.

Andrew's a basket case, anyway, and is a shoulder-shrug whenever the prospect of her hooking up with him is discussed. He always manages to, yet again, "just miss" us. Whatever. She likes his cock, tho', on the too-few chances she has had to enjoy it. He blew her off yet again last week with another lame excuse. His loss; I once again remind her during our drive, "He talks a good game, but don't expect any follow-through."

Jon, however, confirmed yesterday he's going to meet us at the nudist resort in a couple of weeks, so Cyan is a little animated in our talking about it as we drive. Of the three, he's a great guy and is the most satisfying to her, and, especially, is not shy about their intimacy. Last time, we shared a man-hug as I showed him into our cabin, informing him that Cyan was in the bedroom. His signature "instant hard" was rewarded just a few steps later as she was spread expecting him.

We are almost there by now. The road to the overpass is poorly marked from the surface highway as would be expected for a minimally used access. I have to rely on the sparse landmarks to know when to slow down or I'll miss the turn. We make it on the first try this time.

Like before, we are not planning on full nudity for today's midday session, just playful flashing in the modified dress. Cyan likes to position herself directly above the traffic lane so the puff of air from the large vehicles passing below lifts her skirt. Today's mild breeze also helps. We've tried this on really windy days, and discovered too much wind just pastes the dress against her body.

"Usual plan, sweetie," I prompt as we approach the bridge. "I'll turn around up there and park behind the brush to hide the car."

"Okay. Both sides?"

Cyan is asking this because if I am concerned we need a quick escape plan, she'll only show to one direction on the expressway.

"Do what you're comfortable with. I think we're good for whatever you want to do. I'll tap on the horn if we have to abort."

I start the video recording. I finally fashioned a rig for the smartphone to capture the fun. Previously I was hand-holding the phone, which didn't work very well. Between watching her for my own pleasure and being on the lookout for unexpected traffic on the side road, hand-held just didn't work; I was missing a lot of the fun, and so was the video when the aim would drift.

Cyan gets out of the car for her "little walk" across the bridge. Breeze is perfect, flapping her skirt around, and up, especially. She turns around to smile at me and the camera as the first mild gust lifts her dress enough for a teasing view of butt cheeks as she steps away from the car.

Today she's confident enough to walk all the way across the bridge, crossing over to the side of the road with the best viewing from the eastbound lanes of the highway. As she walks back toward me, the camera catches a few "almosts" as the breeze slightly flips her skirt, showing a little more of her awesome gams but nothing more.

Oops! Too quick! A gust afforded a fast tease of pussy. After that it's more of the same -- sexy flashes of a lot of leg, but no money shots yet.

Halfway across Cyan quickly crosses to display herself to the westbound traffic. Interestingly, the breeze there is gustier, resulting in much more skirt action.

As she walks towards me, success! Two solid flashes of her shaved labia, one gust lifting the hem to almost her navel. Nice.

Cyan continues walking toward me in the car, wearing a huge smile. I stop the video recording. Instead of getting in and taking her seat, she comes up to my window and suggests, "Now?"

After checking the road ahead and behind, I respond "Sure!" Her grin gets that much bigger. As mentioned we've been talking about doing this for months. Apparently the success with the breezy ass and pussy show has reinforced her courage.

After she requests I restart the video, she walks around to her side of the car. I am shaking in the anticipation that she is actually "going for it." Cyan opens the door, removes her dress altogether and tosses it onto her seat. She goads me, "You were the one who brought up Jon."

Okay. She's horny. And she is nude, about to display her entire self to traffic on an Interstate highway in the middle of the day. Wearing nothing more than sneakers, she walks somewhat briskly across the bridge showing her awesome body to westbound cars and trucks, then crossing over in the middle for the view for eastbound traffic, continuing her brisk walk all the way across.

I most certainly enjoy it when she gets like this, fully exposing herself to strangers. However, I cannot enjoy it "all the way" like I wished I could; I need to be prepared to gather her up in an instant should somebody happen to turn down the side road toward us. A sticky hand at that moment would create issues.

Cyan seems to be operating on adrenalin at this point. She is clearly throwing any remaining caution to the wind with a slower, more leisurely stroll back to the car. She stops, stands and turns around for three or four passing trucks for the full effect of a 360 view as they lay on their horns in appreciation.

I, however, am growing concerned that we have been out here too long. By now somebody must have called the highway patrol from their cell about "a naked woman on the I-42 overpass east of Exit 93."

Since there was no evident imminent danger of being caught, I am loath to use the horn since it would create unnecessary panic for her. I wait it out as she stops to display herself full-frontal, up against the edge to eastbound lanes for a few seconds, then skipping across for the same for the other direction. She is again rewarded by multiple horn toots from passing traffic each time.

Cyan is almost off the bridge in my direction. Once I think she's out of view of highway traffic, my teeth-gritting concern takes hold and I goose the horn, a quick toot for a "Hurry up and get your ass back in the goddamn car, we gotta get out of here!"

As expected, her big grin does in fact turn into an expression of panic as she runs back, throws open her door and jumps in. I barely wait for her to close her door before pulling a quick U-turn and getting the hell out of Dodge.

Out of breath from the sudden dash, she gasps, "Are we in trouble?"

"Not that I know of," I answer, "but you were out there too long. They're going to be looking for you. Get that dress back on!"

She finally wiggles into the dress about the same time I stop the car for the turn back onto the surface highway. There is total silence in the car during the two or so miles east to the small town, until the adrenalin rush for both of us begins to subside.

Cyan starts to giggle. "Ohgawd ohgawd ohgawd. That felt sooooo good!"

"Do you think?" I ask.

"Think what?"

"You know."

"That...?"

"Uh huh."

"Oh I hope so. They do have showers at the truck stops."

The suggestion that some hapless trucker or two creamed in their jeans from her naked highway surprise makes us laugh and snicker for the next five miles.

I pause, "You were out there a little bit too long, sweetie."

"You were the one who had to mention Jon."

"So. Your horny was impairing your judgment, huh?"

She laughs, "Why do you think I wanted to get naked?"

"I'll remember that for next time. Want me to send a picture to 'im?"

"Uh huh."

"So bad."

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