We had to keep going, we had to avoid interruptions like the day before. We packed up everything,climbed onto the hog and started out again, ready for a better day. It was an uneventfulride that day, we ate at a small diner in a little town somewhere in Nevada, and stooped at a deli to buy something for dinner that evening. We had decided that this would be our lastnight on the road, and we wanted it to be special. We found a large wedge of mellow cheddar cheese, a loaf of fresh baked french bread, and a large hard salami, about 2 inchesaround and 14 inches long. We giggled over the salami, but we'd figure that out later. Clarebought a bottle of sweet red wine, she found out then that I wasn't old enough, and couldn'teven pass to make the purchase, which we also laughed over. We rode on till we hit themountains on the Nevada/California borders and found a really nice spot along yet anotherriver bank to camp. The evening air was warm and comfortable, we set out the beddingand. Not until she climbed up and was straddling me, at any rate, by which time I didn’t care. She reached back, grasping my cock and holding it in position. Then she was lowering herself, so slowly it was heavenly torture. “Do you like that, Teach?” she purred, knowing full well how any man would react to being engulfed by her moist heat. “Do you like fucking your very attentive student?”She was so classy and utterly filthy, both at the same time. She was 54, twenty years older than me, yet from the way she spoke those words, she may as well have been a teenager who had slipped out of a very expensive boarding school for the night.Before I had time to reply, she was leaning forwards, her breasts coming up against my face. Soft moans of contentment vibrated in my ears as I sought out an erect nipple, sweeping my tongue across hardened areola. Karen moved on me, softly and slowly, slippery and moist, coating my shaft. Her almost languid movements caused me intense pleasure, and yet it was.
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