GAS STATION STOP

My girlfriend and I took a road trip with another couple, Pete and Julia. To save money, we shared motel rooms. It was a little awkward, but not too much. We'd take turns changing in the bathroom. We'd all watch some dumb TV show and then turn off the lights and go to sleep. The only hard part was not being able to have sex. There's something about being on the road in cheap motels, that always prompts good travel sex. And we couldn't really have it.

Also, I hate to admit it, but I had a huge crush on Julia. She was really pretty, and fun. As cliche as it sounds, she had huge breasts that seemed to spill out of her bikinitop when we were all at the beach. Don't get me wrong, I love my girlfriend and love her lithe body with the small, upturned breasts. I find her sexy, and our sex life is good. That's one reason being on vacation and not having a sexual outlet was so hard.

We'd spent the day at the beach, in shorts and bikinitops, an were heading back on the freeway to turn toward home after our four days of road trip. The weather was warm. The sky blue. Everything was really great. We stopped at a gas station to fill up. My girlfriend bought snacks inside, while I washed the summer bugs off the windshield. Pete and Julia had gone around the corner to the bathroom. We didn't think much of it, but they were taking a long time. Since it was going to be a long drive, we decided to hit the bathroom, too. When we got there, we saw that there was only one bathroom, it was locked, and both Pete and Julia were inside. We could clearly hear the soft echoing sound of skin slapping skin. Sex has a way of carrying in a small, tiled room. To the people having sex, I'm sure they didn't notice. Standing just outside, near the vent in fact, we could hear the two of them going at it hot and heavy.

My girlfriend tugged me away, because we didn't want to be standing there when they came out. Frankly, I was transfixed. I was listening and hearing two bodies slap. I wondered what position they were in. I tried to picture Julia's face as she was getting fucked. I thought about her breasts, hanging down, flopping. I was having a little mental fantasy that I was the one pounding her. What I wold have given to have been able to see what was going on inside that gas station door. But my girlfriend pulled me away, and we stood outside by the car, waiting until they finished.

They returned, smiling, their faces red from sex, and maybe a little embarrassment. We never let on that we knew a thing. As we drove, I replayed the scene in my mind over and over.

That night, in the hotel room, I noticed Pete's camera. I know it was wrong, but curiosity overtook me. At an opportune moment, I slipped it into my pocket and retreated to the bathroom. To my amazement and dumb luck, the last picture taken had been inside the gas station bathroom.