The Samarian Travelers are here for Patrolwoman Polk's mirrorshades

You doze off again under Priscilla, who is petite enough to be kind of a living lady version of a weighted blanket. You used to nap underneath one or another of your daughters when they were tired little girls. Priscilla is like if you had little Shasta and little Sarah both piled on top of you at the same time.

You awake to a loud rumbling from motorcycle engines not far away. It occurs to you that Priscilla might not have put Old Number One back in your shorts after you fell asleep during her sweet and gentle suck job.

You do have morning wood, so a little shifting around establishes that your dick is sticking out of the left leg hole of your shorts. One of the few times when being moderately well-endowed is a little awkward.

You hear someone talking with Lyla the campground host. "They expecting you?' Lyla asks. With a head turn and squint, you can see she's by the camp store door on your side, talking with a man in a motorcycle jacket.

"Priscilla, ma'am, I have to get up, I think we have visitors and I got to make myself decent."

Priscilla laughs. She reaches down and squeezes your dick head. "Later," she says. She sits up and slides off in the direction of the camp store, pausing there for a minute.

With Priscilla as cover, you readjust your unit so that it's fully covered and street-legal. You can't complain, really. You're not feeling bad after sleeping out of doors on a hard bench.

Priscilla is fifty and a bit, you reckon, from her face in the cold light of morning, but hot to trot, as much as you could have mistaken her for a prim old prune. No sir, no way, like she said, Sulieman had taught her the good news with his cock, blowing the doors off with her first come just from fucking. And he did it again and again and now she knew how to get off that way whenever she wanted, and now she was free to find willing gentlemen to help her make up for lost time and ring her bell wherever she roamed.

You hope you get another chance that goes better.

You have just enough time to kiss Priscilla's hand -- which she uses to pull you in to a quick peck on the lips -- and scoot indoors to throw on a little more clothes.

"Honeybear?" Mary asks. She's next to your guest Lindsay, who is still asleep.

"I think it's Patrolwoman Dana's new pals come on motorcycles for her mirrorshades," you say. "At a guess."

As it develops, it's indeed the Samarian Travelers Motorcycle Club, along with Master Patrolman Ms. Dana Polk, in civvies, in a sidecar, still too shaken up from her pavement scraping slide for a proper ride.

When Mary fetches out her mirrored teardrop sunglasses, Dana Polk puts them on and smiles. Almost like a missing limb. She'd lost them, bucking out an orgasm on the dick of the motorcycle club president who was holding her up against the outside back wall of the urgent care, cupping her buttocks in his hands and railing her hard and deep.

"Thank you for taking care of them," Ms. Polk says. "They're my lucky pair." She pats you on the shoulder and shakes Mary's hand.

"Can I put on the coffee pot for you?" Mary asks.

"No thank you, Miz Forbes," Dana says, "We have to get going." There are five more bikes of Samarian Travelers waiting. She leans in and gives Mary a hug. "Thank you for fixing us up," she says. "Heh heh, I have a new favorite ride."

"Shucks, ma'am, just helping another traveler in need," the motorcycle club president says. "And thank YOU, ma'am" he tells Mary. "You're a true angel."

You wife's cheeks color, flattered. Lightning strikes again, as it often does when Mary is around.

Ms. Polk allows that she would like to avail herself of a tinkle break before she hits the road with the Travelers. Mary leads her into the fancy RV for her second visit, telling her, "There's a heated seat and a little warm water spray thing, you'll love it."

You chat with the Travelers president. Sounds like a weekend pleasure drive, circling back a little early in case anyone needs their roadside assistance.

"Or if it's a quiet day, we'll pull off at a park and take a little quickie break," he explains. "Nice to mix up a good ride with a buddy bang in the picnic shelter or behind the equipment shed."

You see the other Travelers are a couple guys, a couple gals, and a guy and gal riding tandem. They look like they could do, like he was saying.

"Miz Polk going to be up for that?" you ask.

He laughs. "She watched us get it on before we rolled today. Said we looked solid enough for civilians, and the gals got off, so she'd give it a go on the way back if she wasn't tired."

"Guess you made a good impression."

"First sight," he says. "Took her home after I fucked her legless. She's some woman, Master Patrolman Dana Polk. Your wife, too, hooked us up, told me she needed my services. Didn't expect she'd need THOSE services, but I'm not complaining."

"Life is full of surprises. Some are good ones. Mary's a good surprise, and she makes them happen."

"Truth," he says. He looks over your shoulder. "Having a long tinkle break."