Highway Overpass Wife Spreads Naked

The sun beat down on the endless line of cars crawling along the interstate. Kayla and I had been married for three years, and this long road trip from Phoenix to Dallas was supposed to be a second honeymoon of sorts. At twenty-eight, my wife still turned heads everywhere we went. Her sundress clung to her athletic body, the thin yellow fabric doing little to hide the swell of her full tits or the firm curve of her ass. We’d discovered her exhibitionist streak almost by accident a year earlier, when she’d flashed a group of construction workers from our hotel balcony and came harder than I’d ever seen. Since then we’d pushed it further in parking garages, movie theaters, and hiking trails, but nothing had prepared us for this.

We were stuck dead center under a massive concrete highway overpass. Two lanes above us carried heavy truck traffic, and every single driver had a perfect downward view into our silver sedan. The jam wasn’t moving. Brake lights stretched for miles. I glanced over at Kayla and noticed the way her nipples had stiffened into obvious points against the dress. Her cheeks were flushed. She kept staring up through the sunroof at the row of semi cabs idling directly overhead.

“Fuck, they’re all looking,” she whispered, voice already husky. Her thighs pressed together in the passenger seat. “There must be thirty truckers up there. I can see their faces in the mirrors.”

My cock twitched hard in my shorts. “You like that they can see you?”

Kayla bit her lower lip and nodded slowly. “I’m soaked, baby. My pussy is literally throbbing. I want them to see how wet I am. I want them to know this tight married cunt is dripping because they’re watching me.”

Her confession hit me like a freight train. I reached over and slid my hand up her smooth thigh, pushing the hem of the sundress higher. When my fingers brushed her panties I felt the soaked cotton. She was drenched.