They listened to the radio for a while and the miles and cities seemed to pass by quickly. It was just past seven o'clock when they crossed the border...at Calais, Maine and gained an hour of time. They decided to stop for supper.After eating, Roger continued to drive as they proceeded across Highway Nine in Maine; the route is also referred to as the Airline Road because of its hilly, winding contours. They arrived in Bangor at eight o'clock Maine time and, after filling up with gas, switched. I remember I didn't have to wait long as I heard the running of the toilet suddenly get louder as the bathroom door opened. I spun around like two times before freezing in position. I couldn't move as I just stood there, with my right side facing the door in my bra and panties and my pj nightshirt which came down to just above my knees showing off my bare legs. I waited for what seemed like forever seconds when I finally thought he had gone when I heard his voice from the doorway. I looked. His Brooke looked like a sex kitten. He smiled at his handiwork, watching the rising and falling of her beautiful bust. He noticed a flutter of her captivating eyes as she suddenly opened them up.With a sexy smile she looked at Ken then rotated her head to look out of the window. Her slender arm was propped against the door with her head slightly tilted toward the window feeling the cool night air softly blow against her supple skin. With a graceful arm she brushed a long blonde lock of hair. He had plans for this trip, big plans for him, for Liz, for his video collection, and especially for testing the limits of the Organization that chafed and irritated him, like psoriasis on his subconscious. They had only had sex twice since Liz returned from her visit, not including the blowjob she’d given him that day, quiet married sex, like the good old days. He’d enjoyed it, to his surprise, and they had reconnected during their evenings together. He’d put away the camera and set aside his.