I had a couple of stops in Iowa before going South to Oklahoma. We stopped for the night at the I-80 truck stop at Walcott, IA, spending the night the...e and checking out the place, a truck stop that's dubbed as the world's largest truck stop. We showered and sat down at a restaurant there and had dinner after I fueled up the truck and parked. This trip as opposed to previous ones, we were more toned down, and not fucking like rabbits every time we stopped for the night. Mainly due to everything. She pulled me down and started kissing the side of my neck while she continued to hump my finger. She was really loving it and I very much enjoyed giving her those good feelings after what she'd just done for me. I was really impressed that she knew so much about this sex stuff. There were times when she'd stop and shudder while her vagina milked my finger, then she'd start humping again. It made my finger feel so good that I wished it were my dick. That's when I realized what fucking was. It. I dreamt of Katharina. Of making mad passionate love to her in her grand bed, just as I would when we next met. Her every touch, embrace and kiss radiated a warmth that was at once maternal and evocative. I would mention the dream in my next letter to her, for I knew it would please her to read it. It was still dark when I resurfaced to consciousness and the sensation of Stefan gently grinding his backside against my cock, which I realised was as stiff as a board. His movements were so subtle. It was worse than she thought. It was worse than bathrooms at the convenience store near her house. The stench seemed to suffocate all breathable air, to make each attempt to inhale a torture of control. It was all she could do to breathe and not vomit. Against her, above her, she could feel Mrs. Reeves convulsing, too. A muffled gurgling and swallow told her that her teacher felt the exact same way.For many moments, the girl and the woman held each other that way, stifling down the puke,.