This is Part 1 of a two-part sex story which recounts the full story of a hot sex encounter I had along with my always horny hotwife, Vanna, so it’s longer than typical WW Sex Stories.

This “lucky hook-up” happened a few years ago during a long car-trip when my then-40-something Hotwife, Vanna and I were driving four states away to spend two weeks gratis at a friend’s vacant cabin in Wyoming’s Bighorn Mountains in the central part of the state. Although Vanna prefers to play alone with her numerous sex partners – I’m her 20-years-older, cuckold husband who normally waits at home till she gets back from her hook-ups with her bulls and then lets me clean up her creampies afterwards – she’s always horny and up for sex, never passing up any opportunity to fuck and suck any guy (or guys – and sometimes, gals)! But the best part of this serendipitous hook-up threesome for me was that I got to watch her “in action” and take part in some hot threesome group sex-play with her and a hitchhiker we picked up along the way.

Our route took us all the way across South Dakota, nearly 400 miles from Sioux Falls to Spearfish. The “good news” is that the speed limit on I-90 is 80 mph, meaning we can usually average 85-90 mph, only slowing down for the inevitable “road work” areas and what passes for “urban zones” in South Dakota (e.g. Sioux Falls and Rapid City). Although the lack of interesting “scenery” (until we get to the Black Hills at Rapid City) makes the drive extremely b-o-r-ing, we can usually complete the South Dakota transit in about 5 hours, stopping only for gas and “potty breaks.” We switch off driving our BMW SUV – when Vanna drives, 90 is her “low mph limit,” and I’m usually asleep in the front passenger seat; when I drive, 85 is my normal speed, and Vanna sits in the passenger seat playing with her iPhone or, occasionally, when she’s exceptionally bored, pulling her tube top down to flash and shake her tits at semi drivers when passing 18-wheelers (usually accompanied by a “Thank You!” air horn blast as we pass…).

This trip, just short of the mid-way point across the state, we stopped for gas and “potty break” at a large, busy truck stop west of Chamberlain. I was driving, and as I pulled up to the pump, Vanna hopped out, saying, “I’m hitting the little girls’ room. See you inside.” She was wearing her usual “travel attire”: hot pink spandex tube top barely covering her gorgeous 36C-cup tits (it was only later that some of her boyfriends got her pregnant a few times, permanently engorging her tits by over a full cup-size) and “pointedly” emphasizing her perpetually-hard, protruding nipples; black spandex, mid-thigh-length bike shorts so tight that every mound and crease of her “camel toe” boldly stood out, as did her tight, muscular ass cheeks and butt crack; no bra or panties, of course, to ruin the smooth lines of her top and shorts; and “flip-flop-style” black patent leather sandals showing off her multiple toe rings and black toenail polish. And for this vacation, Vanna had dyed her natural short, raven-black color, “pixie-cut” hair a sexy, very striking, white blonde color that drew even more horny male attention to her. “Yeah, see you inside, dear,” I muttered as I started to fill up our gas tank.

As always, I watched her walk to the entrance – or, rather, watched her “strut” each step, since Vanna always deliberately struts to emphasize her full, free-swinging tits by purposely bouncing and swaying them, enjoying the male attention she gets as much as I do from watching the guys’ lust-filled reactions. This time was typical – Vanna drew the attention of just about every guy at the pumps filling his car as well as each trucker in a group of four standing by the entrance door having a smoke. Most of them licked their lips watching her “strut her stuff,” and one guy even moved to the door, opened it for her to enter the truck stop, leaned close to her and whispered something to her. She turned to him, gave him a big smile, then slowly, looking apologetic, shook her head “No, thanks, sweetie.” With a dejected look, he turned back to his smoking buddies, raising both arms palms-up in a “Well, fellas, at least I tried!” gesture.

Vanna’s blonde dye-job for this trip seemed to be attracting the immediate attention she intended it to do, as evidenced by the trucker’s attempt to pick her up. She always loves to “advertise” her sexuality and availability so her very noticeable blonde hair was merely her way of accelerating that and I couldn’t hold it against the soliciting trucker for following up and trying his luck. I thought, “Nice try, my man. Any other time you might have scored!” In fact, a few years ago, during one of Vanna’s periodic “I have to find myself” psychological crises, she was gone for 7 or 8 months, moving to and fro across the country as a “Pavement Princess/Lot Lizard” moving from trucker to trucker, and supplementing her living expenses doing nude dancing/table dancing for tips at strip clubs across the country – but that’s another story and she eventually wandered back home, spurred to return by an encounter with a suspicious-acting trucker who kept asking her if she would be sexually turned-on by being tied up and whipped...

After I finished filling our tank and washing the windows, paid at the pump by credit card, then moved the car to the parking area, I went inside to use the “boys’ room.” I didn’t see Vanna, so I assumed she was still in the rest-room. I drained my full bladder, walked back out into the spacious, well-stocked grocery/souvenir store area and looked around for Vanna. I cruised through the aisles for a while looking for her, then finally saw her standing several aisles over, talking to some guy I hadn’t seen inside the truck stop when I went to the john. Vanna was talking and laughing with the guy, while standing at the end of the aisle glaring at them was the trucker she’d turned down at the entrance – if looks could kill, Vanna and the guy she was talking to would be dead.

The guy Vanna was talking to looked to be about 30-something and from his clothing and full backpack he was obviously a hitchhiker. “Oh, hell no, Vanna,” I thought to myself, “We’re not picking up any stray pets this trip! No way!” I hastened over to her and the guy, giving him a once-over look as I approached: close-up, he was unkempt and scruffy-looking with an overgrown mop of curly black hair and a scraggly black beard and mustache; he wore no hat, had on an old, Vietnam-era, OD field jacket and wore ragged, faded blue jeans; his shoes were a scuffed, much-used pair of brown leather Vasque hiking boots. He looked like a bum, but he and Vanna were laughing and talking like old friends. I could tell that Vanna was “into” this hitchhiker since, as she talked with him, she kept casually touching his arms, hands and chest with her hands, jump-starting her target’s interest in her through such physical contact – it’s typical Vanna behavior I’ve noticed she always does when she likes some guy she’s just met. And it usually works just as she hopes it will.

As I walked up, the guy was finishing some – probably bullshit -- story about some friend and some dog hiking some mountain some place…blah-blah-blah…and Vanna was acting like it was the most fascinating story she’d ever heard, casually touching and rubbing and caressing his arms, shoulders and chest as she listened. Her flirting with him was working since his eyes kept focusing alternately on her full tits with their protruding nipples and her graphically-defined camel-toe. When he’d finished, Vanna turned to me and announced, “This is Rick! He’s hitchhiking across the country this summer and since he’s headed west – like us! – we’re giving him a ride as far as he and we are going! Isn’t that great?!” I could only say, “Yeah, that’s just great, Vanna. Just great.” As Vanna announced we were picking up this hitchhiker stranger and I answered less than enthusiastically, I caught him giving me a smug, “Gotcha, fella!” look.

I said, “We’re all gassed up, so we need to get moving, dear.” Vanna turned to Rick and asked, “Can we get you something, Rick? Anything at all?” He darted another quick “gotcha” glance at me, saying, “I could use a fifth of ‘Jack,’…please.” Vanna immediately replied, “No problem! We’ll get that for you. And, dear, please get me a fifth of vodka, too, for later.” I nodded “OK,” but couldn’t help thinking, “Geeze, two fifths of booze at truck stop prices is insane!” But I got their two fifths after the two of them headed off to our SUV. When I joined them, Vanna was in the front passenger seat, Rick was in the back seat, leaning forward through the opening between the two front seats over the center console, and he and Vanna were chatting and giggling like old friends. I got in the driver’s seat, saying, “I assume you want me to keep driving, right?” Without taking her eyes off Rick, Vanna answered, “Yes, please!” I started the SUV, resuming our trip west on I-90.

Vanna and Rick kept up their chit-chat for the next several hours, Vanna turned completely around in the front seat, her hands all over Rick and him leaning as close to Vanna as he could get as he kept pawing her. Rick tried to be surreptitious with his frequent touching of her tits which she kept thrusting at him – but each time he “accidentally” touched Vanna’s tits, she pushed them forward toward him, clearly indicating she liked it. With the car’s air conditioning blasting and Vanna getting “excited” each time Rick touched her tits, her nipples were hard as rocks, poking out boldly through her spandex tube top. Not long after I got back up to highway speed, Rick opened the bottle of “Jack” I’d bought for him, took a long swig, then passed the bottle to Vanna who also guzzled a long draught of the 80-proof whiskey. As they kept passing the open bottle back and forth, each taking long swigs, I cut my speed back to exactly 80mph – the last thing we needed was to be pulled over by some over-eager state trooper or county sheriff and found with an open container of alcohol accompanied by the heavy smell of whiskey now permeating the SUV…

After an hour of their drinking, chatting and touching each other through the front seats’ console opening, Vanna said, “Dear, at the next rest stop, could you please pull in? I’d like to slip into the back seat with Rick, so that he and I can talk more ‘comfortably.’ Could you do that, please? And park as far away and as remote from the rest stop building as possible…away from all other cars, please.” I said, “Yes, dear,” and “There’s a rest stop in about 15 miles. I’ll pull into it and you can get into the back seat.”

I pulled into the rest stop, parking far from the entrance and as far away from all other vehicles as I could get, telling them, “I have to use the john but I’ll be back shortly.” Vanna nodded “OK,” and stayed in the SUV. I did my business, slowly smoked two cigarettes, browsed some “Visit South Dakota” travel brochures, then walked the length of the parking lot back to our isolated car. When I got back to the car, I noticed both rear seat window sun shades had been pulled closed – the shades allow some restricted vision outside from inside, but totally block anyone outside from seeing into the back seat. I opened the driver’s door and the strong smell of “Jack” whiskey hit my nose – they’d been working on that bottle. I also heard muffled moaning and grunting noises, so the two of them were getting it on as I knew they would be.

The front seat where Vanna had been sitting was empty except for her black spandex bike shorts sitting in a pile, the short’s crotch soaking wet. As I got into the driver’s seat, I saw Rick propped up against the back seat’s right door, his head barely visible above the bottom of the window and the rest of his body sprawled out over the back seat. He was only wearing an unbuttoned buffalo plaid flannel shirt and was naked from the waist down. Vanna was lying between his legs, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked his surprisingly-large cock. Her tube top was rolled down around her waist and one of Rick’s hands was squeezing and massaging one of her tits and pinching her rigid nipple. In his other hand, Rick held the bottle of “Jack” by the neck, taking a swig from time to time. One of Vanna’s hands was underneath her hips as she fingered her pussy in rhythm with her cocksucking. Her other hand was holding Rick’s thick, 8-inch-long, rock-hard cock upright as she sucked it.

Vanna was moaning as she sucked and deep-throated Rick’s cock and he was groaning in pleasure each time Vanna’s head and mouth went “ball’s deep” down on his throbbing cock. My cock got hard as I watched Vanna suck Rick off, and when Rick looked at me with his smug, self-satisfied smirk, I knew he didn’t yet realize that I get totally turned on watching Vanna have sex with other guys. I watched her suck Rick’s cock for a few more minutes, grasping and stroking my cock through my pants until I felt some of my pre-cum oozing out and dampening my jockey shorts. I stopped watching, turned in the seat, started the car and kept driving west on I-90. The smell of “Jack” still hung heavy in the SUV, so I kept my speed at the legal 80mph.

Wafting through the “Jack” whiskey smell was the distinctive, ammonia-vinegar-sweat scent of people having sex. I adjusted my rear-view mirror so that I could watch Vanna sucking Rick’s cock while simultaneously keeping an eye on the road and set the cruise control at 80mph. Traffic was light so keeping the SUV on an even keel while watching Vanna enthusiastically suck Rick’s cock wasn’t difficult. I was even able to loosen my waist belt, slip one hand down my pants, and stroke my cock while watching Vanna suck Rick’s cock with no trouble driving at the same time. I was so turned on watching Vanna “in action” that I had to push a couple of Kleenexes down my pants to keep my oozing pre-cum from soaking through my shorts.

After driving/watching for at least 40 minutes, I began to admire Rick’s stamina since Vanna was sucking and jerking his cock with her best effort and skill to get him off but he still hadn’t ejaculated. Each time Vanna went “balls’ deep” on his huge cock, her spittle mixed with some of his pre-cum dripped out of her mouth and puddled on and under his bouncing balls – I could only imagine what this was doing to our SUV’s leather seats! But, finally, after about 45 minutes of Vanna’s energetic cocksucking, Rick’s grunts got louder and louder as he got ready to shoot his load into her mouth and down her throat. He moved his hand massaging her tit to the top of Vanna’s head and forcefully pushed her head down fully onto his cock, roughly holding her face and mouth to his crotch while burying his entire 8-inch cock in her mouth and throat! I could see Vanna’s throat bulge from Rick’s cock-head thrusting down it, and she started to gag and snort. She tried to pull her head back off Rick’s cock, but his hand held her head firmly down as his cock began to spasm with his powerful ejaculation.

As Rick ejaculated huge, pulsing streams of thick, creamy, white cum into Vanna’s mouth and throat, he loudly moaned, “Aaaaahhhh!” The cum pumping into Vanna’s mouth as he still held her head down forcefully on his spasming cock caused her to involuntarily gag, cough and snort out a mix of Rick’s cum and her snot through her nostrils! Finally, Rick allowed Vanna to pull her head and mouth back off his still cum-oozing, throbbing, spasming cock. She kept coughing and cum-snot kept dripping out of her nostrils but she managed to say, “My God, Rick! How long has that been building up in your balls?!” Rick flashed her a self-satisfied smile and said, “Well, quite a while, baby, quite a while…And you suck dick like a champ! You got out every drop I had!”

Rick took a long swig of the “Jack” then offered it to Vanna who took an even longer gulp of the whiskey, washing the remnants of Rick’s huge cum-load down her throat. I passed the Kleenex box back to Vanna and she quickly used three of them in succession to blow the cum-snot out of her nostrils. She pulled out several more Kleenexes and used them to wipe her mouth, face, chin and pussy, and to clean Rick’s cock, balls and crotch of cum and snot, tossing the used Kleenexes on the floorboard – for me to clean up later, I assumed...Meanwhile, I was so turned on watching Rick cum in Vanna’s mouth that I’d ejaculated inside my Kleenex-lined pants. I pulled out the cum-soaked tissues, tossed them onto the back seat floor, and put two more tissues down my pants to soak up my cum remnants still oozing out of my cock.

After doing her quick clean-up with several Kleenexes, Vanna repositioned herself. Still lying between Rick’s legs, she scooted up on his chest until her head rested on his shoulder in the crook of his neck. Pulling his unbuttoned flannel shirt fully open, she began running her fingers through the mass of black, curly hair covering Rick’s chest down to his smooth-shaved pubic area, paying special attention to stroking and rubbing his nipples which he clearly liked. After a while, Vanna reached up to his head, grabbed a handful of his longish black curly hair, and pulled his face and mouth down to hers. Their lips were open, and I could see their eager tongues twisting around each other and probing in and out of their mouths. They tongue-kissed for several minutes, Rick apparently not minding that Vanna’s mouth must surely still taste like his cum, then they passed the “Jack” back and forth until they’d jointly emptied the bottle. Rick dropped the empty bottle on the floorboard, they both snuggled up with their arms around each other and eventually fell asleep.

I kept driving at the speed limit for another two hours, only having to slow down for a couple of road work areas. We reached Rapid City around 6 p.m., post “rush hour,” and I reached into the back seat and shook Vanna awake. Still half-asleep she muttered, “Wazzup?” I said, “We’re in Rapid City so we need to find a motel to spend the night soon. Are we dropping Rick off somewhere around here, or what?” Vanna, shook her head, explaining, “No. I’ve asked Rick to spend the night with us tonight in whatever motel we rent…Rick and I have some ‘unfinished business’ to attend to. You can watch and do ‘clean-up’ which I know you love to do – and if you’re a very, very good boy, we’ll let you join in some threesome play with us, OK?”

I was immediately turned on by the thought of watching and creampie cleaning and, especially, being allowed to join in some threesome play which I almost never get to do, so I immediately answered, “Yes! Oh, yes, that sounds great! … I know a nice, clean, quiet old motel in Sturgis which is less than 30 minutes ahead. The annual motorcycle biker rally is long over, so the place will be nearly empty and cheap.” I reached over to the passenger seat, grabbed Vanna’s spandex bike shorts, and tossed them to her, saying, “You and Rick should probably get dressed now – at least for checking in and going inside to our room. And I figured we could order-in pizza for supper.” Vanna nodded her head, “Yes, OK,” rolled her tube top back up over her tits and started pulling on her spandex bike shorts. She shook Rick awake and advised him to pull his jeans and shorts back on since we’d be at the motel soon.

In less than a half-hour we pulled into the gravel parking lot of the 50-era, single story, “strip mall-style” motel. It was on a side street about three blocks off I-90 and the lot looked as empty as I predicted it would be during post-Sturgis Rally times. The “vacancy” neon sign was flashing in the office window alongside a sun-faded, hand-lettered “Welcome Bikers!” poster when I went inside and got us a room with two queen-sized beds. “Last room on the north end,” the night clerk directed me as he handed me the key (instead of a modern electronic entry card, it was an actual key hooked to an old-fashioned diamond-shaped, plastic “Drop in Any Mailbox” tag).

This story’s Part 2 recounts all the hot, threesome sex Vanna and I had with hitchhiker Rick. It’s even HOTTER than this Part 1! Hope you will read it and enjoy it!