Trixie

(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.

"Trixie," I said. "If you do that for about another five seconds I'm going to embarrass myself. You have two choices. Keep it up and we can relax while I recover or you can stop and we can move to the next step immediately."

She looked me in the eyes and, with a wry smile, asked, "What do you recommend?"

"Option A may be the only realistic choice," I answered.

"Option A it is," she said as she dropped to her knees and took me deeply into her mouth. I lasted more than five seconds, but not much longer. I filled her mouth more than once and she swallowed every drop.

When I was finished, I took her hands and brought her to her feet. "Thank you. That's going the make the next couple of hours even better."

"I was hoping for that."

I put my hands behind her head and brought her lips to mine. I kissed her everyway I knew how. I could taste my semen on her lips and tongue and I didn't care.

When I let her go, she stood in front of me and looked at me with a new perspective. Some of the edginess she had when we entered the room was missing. She slowly finished undressing while standing there. Naked, Trixie was the female version of Michelangelo's David. Her proportions were a dead ringer for the Greek Venus de Milo, except for her Rubenesque breasts, and her skin was perfect, without blemishes of any kind.

I motioned for her to turn around. She paused momentarily, but then turned slowly clockwise. When she finished, her smile was as perfect as her body and reflected in her eyes. I motioned her to me and kissed her again while sliding my hands down her back until they cupped the cheeks of her ass. When I came up for air, she took my head in her hands and kissed me several more times.

Trixie took my hand and led me to the bed where she removed the quilted spread. She motioned me to get into the bed. She grabbed the television remote, turned on the TV, selected a sports talk show and turned up the volume. "There's going to be some noise in here and I think I'll need the cover," she said as she came back to the bed and crawled in beside me.

"Are you as good as I think you are," she asked?

"I hope so," I responded.

"Show me," she said.

I moved over on the bed and pulled her to the middle. I moved her up the bed while I moved down. I kissed each of her breasts and nibbled on the bones of her hips before I moved further down. I used my lips and tongue on the area between her navel and the triangle of hair below. Her pussy was unshaven but neatly trimmed. I found the nub of her clitoris with my tongue; gave it a little nip and moved further down. I moved my tongue down along the edges of her lips and up again. Trixie had her legs up with her thighs against my ears. I began to probe the entrance to her passage with my tongue and her thighs became tighter on my head and she quivered slightly. I pressed my tongue into her as far as I could reach and moved it in and out. Trixie's legs moved above my head as I inserted two fingers into her. I rubbed the area I thought might be her G-spot and pulled on her clitoris with my lips. Each movement of my fingers and mouth brought a corresponding larger movement from Trixie's body. Soon she was quivering uncontrollably and moving her hips so much I needed to hold on with both hands.

When I pressed my fingers firmly against the front of her pussy, and began flicking her clit rapidly while using my one free hand to pinch her nipple, she went rigid and screamed. My hand was flooded with thick fluid as she reached climax. My first thought was whether the TV was loud enough.

We had rested for about a minute when Trixie said, "I want you inside me. Now, before the feeling passes."

I moved myself above her and placed my erection at her opening. I began to move slowly into her but Trixie wanted none of that. She grabbed my hips and pulled me inside her while moving herself toward me. When I was deeply inside her she began pumping her hips and I began to meet her thrusts with thrusts of my own. We were both primed for the long run and we went on like that for quite a while. We changed the rhythm every few minutes. I'm not sure, but I think Trixie had a series of small orgasms while we fucked. Eventually she whispered, "Turn me over."

I moved aside and turned her on her stomach. She grabbed a pillow and got up on her knees. I came up behind her and moved inside her again. We resumed rutting, only now I could get deeper into her. I also had a close-up view of her ass and her puckered opening. I used my hand to collect some of the fluids escaping from our activity to lubricate her until I could slip the end of a finger into her ass. When I did, I heard a small voice in front of me exclaim, "Oh, yes."

That sounded like approval and permission to me so I pushed my finger into her ass past the second knuckle. When I did, Trixie convulsed again. I slowed down to give her time to recover but she objected, telling me, "No. No. Don't stop."

I kept up the pace until Trixie's next request. "Roll over. I want to be on top."

We managed to roll over and get Trixie on top of me without losing contact. Trixie was now straddling my hips and moving around on my erection like a runaway train. She seemed uncontrollable. I kept up as best I could but it was now Trixie's show. She kept it up until she had another monster orgasm.

She slowed down but didn't stop completely. She looked down at me as if questioning my involvement. She mouthed the word, "More?"

"I can if you can," I responded.

Trixie nodded knowingly and lifted her hips so that I slipped out of her. She took my erection in one hand and, shifting slightly forward, began to run the head of my cock up against her rectum. She looked at me again and mouthed, "Okay?" I mouthed back, "Okay."

She repeatedly lubricated my cock and pushed her ass against it until the head slipped passed the sphincter. Once inside she was able to quickly slide down until I was buried. She moved her body up and down and her tightness began to pressure my resolve. I reached up to grab her tits and came inside her.

Satisfied, Trixie moved off me onto the bed. We spent the next two hours in bed repeating some of the earlier activities although somewhat less energetically. Afterward, we managed a quick fuck while showering and got dressed. We exchanged phone numbers before we left the room.

I wasn't in my truck for thirty minutes before Trixie texted me. Using voice commands, I was able to have a text conversation with her while driving. God, I love technology.

That day began a long, and satisfying, relation between us. Trixie was a sexual dynamo. Even with me based in Carlisle and Trixie in Omaha, we managed liaisons all over the Midwest. We screwed in motels, back rooms and sleeper cabs whenever we could. We even found excitement screwing in public areas such as behind a tree in a county park, in the ladies room of an Omaha pub and the back of a taxi when neither us was sober enough to drive home.

I requested another transfer, relocated to Omaha and we moved in together.

Even when we were home together, we sometimes got it on in the sleeper cab parked in the yard just for the fun of it. Eventually I convinced Trixie to work for the same company I did. Once she was settled and had earned a few stripes for reliability and honesty, we teamed together. That meant we could get longer hauls and provide shorter delivery times since there were two drivers. Management loved us. We were given an oversized sleeper cab to share. One cab for two drivers. We could also keep the freight moving for twenty-two of every twenty-four hours without coming afoul of the FMCSA regulations.

Driving with Trixie and her needs was an adventure. When I was driving Trixie was either sitting in the cab next to me or lying in the sleeper behind me. Either way she took care of her needs. She would sit next to me, naked, and tease me and herself. It was just a little distracting. Sometimes she would try to get me to help her. I felt bad refusing her but it was more distracting than texting while driving so I kept my eyes on the road, mostly. If she was in the sleeper I could hear the sounds of satisfaction she made while pleasuring herself. On occasion she would press her naked tits or ass against the passenger window as we passed an unsuspecting motorist.

Every day with Trixie was an adventure and I looked forward to every tomorrow. I assumed I wasn't the first guy Trixie had been with and, with a nickname like "Trixie," I wasn't the second either. One day I asked her why she kept coming back to, and ultimately living with, me.

"Miles," she said. "You were the first guy I was with that didn't have his pants off before I closed the door. You were the first guy that wasn't just 'slam, bang, thank you ma'am.' You were the first guy who didn't treat me like a sperm bank and his deposit was the best and largest ever made. You were the first guy who didn't' have his pants back on before I got out of bed. You were the first guy who actually seemed to care about how I was feeling. You were the first guy who satisfied me. You were the first guy I wanted to snuggle up to. You were the first guy I wanted to spend the night with. You were the first guy I wanted more than once. Finally, you were the first guy I didn't think was keeping score and broadcasting his win all over creation."

"Trixie, I don't know how to respond to that. I can't live up to those expectations."

"Miles, you already have."

Our relationship was almost without acrimony. If I suggested we go to a sporting event, Trixie was ready to go and enthusiastic about it. If Trixie suggested a concert or a chick flick, I was happy to take her. If either of us wanted to just stay home and screw the other could hardly wait to get their clothes off. The only difficult discussion was when Trixie hinted about a more permanent relationship. The possibility frightened me and Trixie noticed. When pushed, I told her about my two previous experiences with marriage and how badly they ended. She couldn't understand how any reasonable 'broad', her word, would walk away from a gentle soul like me. "Listen," I said. "I'm probably the person I am because of the lessons I learned from those experiences."

"Then you should have no problem with your third," she responded.

The issue sat there, festering, for a couple of months. One night, I took Trixie to bed and made slow, delicious love to her. Afterward, I said, "You're right. Let's do it."

We were married three weeks later by a Justice of the Peace in Omaha with a court stenographer and security guard as witnesses.

I was never so happy. Trixie seemed to float on air. Everything suddenly had more meaning, especially our love making. We began to plan a family but we learned that Trixie was unable to conceive. We tried artificial and in vitro insemination without success. Instead we began to volunteer at the local children's hospital and the work added much joy to our lives, but the most fun was trucking and the adventures we found together and separately.