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I was way out in the country when my GPS went on the fritz. One moment I had explicit directions and the next thing all I knew was that I had to head in that general direction. I didn’t worry about it. I figured that all I had to do was reach the town I was heading towards and then ask a resident which way to Sam’s place. Problem solved.

Problem not solved it turned out. I reached the town and found myself through the town almost before I realised it. A single blink and I’d have missed the entire place. What I did miss was seeing any residents. I was slowing down, intending to back up and see if I could find a shop or someplace to get directions, when I spotted a kid strolling along the road ahead. I continued to slow down and pulled up next to the kid.

“Hey, kid,” I called. “Can you tell me how to get to Sam Wetherbee’s place?”

The kid turned to look at me and I revised the age of said kid upwards quite sharply.

“I’m not a goat and don’t answer to the name kid,” the girl snapped. “I do know the way to old man Wetherbee’s place, though.”

Old man? Sam was like me, barely into his thirties. Still from the young lady’s point of view I suppose we could be considered old. I doubted that she was over sixteen, but I could be wrong.

“Sorry, miss,” I said quickly. “No offence intended. Could you direct me to Sam’s place?”

She glowered at me, apparently still annoyed, but then she shrugged.

“Yeah, I suppose so. You continue straight down this road until you reach the spot where Murphy’s cow tends to get out. You gotta watch for him as he could be wandering on the road. Anyway, you turn left there. . .”

I broke in at this stage.

“Excuse me, but I don’t know here Murphy’s cow tends to get out.”

“Oh, right. Well in that case just keep going and turn left before you reach the spot where the Pendleton’s barn used to be before the fire. .”

“Excuse me again,” I put in, “but I don’t know that spot either.”

She gave me a look that indicated just how ignorant she thought I was.

“You’re making this hard,” she told me. “You don’t seem to know enough to understand my directions.”

“Perhaps if you told me in miles how far it is before I turn left?”

She considered this and then nodded.

“Fair enough. That would be about a mile to the left turn. You then go down that road for another couple of miles and take the third road on your right. Make sure you only count the roads. The tracks to the farms don’t count as roads, and the road to the Henderson’s is hidden on a bend so you’ll have to look sharp.”

By now I was silently swearing and wondering if I should go back to the town, what there was of it, and try to find a map. Maybe another way?

“Listen, miss, would you consent to hopping in and guiding me? I’m willing to pay you five for your time and I’ll bring you back to town after I’ve seen Sam.”

“What, get in a stranger’s car? Are you kidding me? I’m not a fool.”

Maybe not but I suspected that she was an idiot. Either that or she just enjoyed giving impossible directions.

“Don’t worry. I’m not a paedophile. Take a photo of me and my license plate and message them to a friend as security.”

“It would be better if you were a paedophile as I’m legally an adult and you wouldn’t be interested. Still, I’ll take the photos and then direct you.”

Another minute and we were driving down the road. After about a mile I started looking for a road on the left and she suddenly piped up.

“Slow down. You’ll miss the turn.”

I slowed down, still not seeing the turn.

“What are you waiting for? Permission? Take the turn.”

I glanced at her to see her pointing to a road on my right. I slowed rather more quickly and made the turn. I also pulled up for a moment.

“My name’s Grey,” I told her. “And yours is?”


“Okay, Debbie. You said I had to turn left after about a mile. This was a right hand turn.”

“Oh. Was it? I do get them muddled at times. The trouble is that our teacher insisted that we remember left and right by saying right is the hand we write with, but I write left handed.”

“Understandable confusion,” I agreed. “Where now?”

I found I was also looking her over a lot more closely. Now that I knew she was eighteen certain facts were impressing themselves on my mind and imagination. Just little things like the tiny pair of shorts she was wearing, shorts that exposed a lot of Maltepe Escort very shapely leg. Little things like a pair of breasts that were not overlarge but did wobble around under her top in a very sweet fashion. Little things like the gaps between the buttons on her shirt that allowed me to catch glimpses of some lovely curves without a bra blocking the view. I forced my attention back to what I should be doing.

I drove on, Debbie giving me directions as we went. She had to learn to tell me to turn before we reached a road rather than after but apart from that all was good.

“Why don’t the roads have names?” I asked at one stage.

“They have names,” she promptly informed me. “This one is Millers Lane.”

“Really? I didn’t see any signposts.”

“That’s the question you should have asked. Why don’t we have signposts? Mainly because we know the names of the roads and don’t need signs to tell us.”

“But what about strangers such as myself? We don’t know the names.”

“And we don’t care,” Debbie pointed out. “The town save a lot of money not putting out signposts.”

A reasonable but selfish attitude, I guess.

We reached Sam’s place and I grabbed my briefcase, told Debbie I wouldn’t be long, and went and pounded on Sam’s door. He answered and smirked at me.

“Have fun getting here?” he asked.

“A ball,” I grumbled. “My GPS packed up and I had to get one of the locals to guide me.”

Sam just laughed and put his hand out for the contract. He read it carefully to ensure that no changes had been sneaked in and then he signed and I witnessed his signature. I also produced the cheque for his down payment based on expected royalties. I declined a drink as I had to take my passenger back to town.

“Short visit,” Debbie observed. “What does old man Wetherbee do, anyway?”

“He’s an author. I was just paying him an advance on his latest book.”

“Really? Would I have read any? Probably not,” she added, answering her own question. “I’d have remembered if I’d seen his name as an author.”

“He writes under another name. His last book was Pirate of Passion and it did quite well.”

“Ok, I heard of that one,” Debbie said happily. “The Women’s Library Club tried to get it banned from the local library but the Librarian told them to pull their heads in. She wasn’t going to have them censor her library. I must borrow it.”

It would probably be an education for her. It wasn’t just a bodice ripper as a lot more than bodices got torn by that passionate pirate.

We were currently driving through a heavily wooded area. It went on for another few hundred yards. I pulled over at a slightly wider spot on the road and turned to face Debbie.

“My business has finished successfully and I’m running ahead of schedule. What I’d like to do now is to strip off all your clothes until you’re completely naked, spread your legs, and fuck you just as hard as I can. What is your opinion of this little scenario?”

Debbie sat up a little straighter. She didn’t look worried but she did look a little concerned.

“And if I say no?” she asked.

I could see her hand was resting on the door handle. One wrong word and she might be running like a rabbit.”

“Two things. I’d be most disappointed and you might miss out on something wonderful.”

She relaxed a little, seeing I wasn’t going to jump her regardless.

“Something wonderful, huh? Got tickets on yourself, haven’t you. Anyway, I’m a virgin. I’m told that first time is always dreadful.”

“Someone is lying to you,” I said dismissively. “How on earth are you still a virgin? I’d have thought one of the boys you know would have dragged you behind the bushes as soon as they could.”

“Two of them did. My brothers saw it happening and wandered over to see what was going on. Abner and Joey both came and apologised just as soon as they got out of hospital. No-one else has tried anything.”

“And a fair and reasonable thing to happen. Ah, you still haven’t given your opinion of the stripping and ravishing scenario.”

“That’s right, I haven’t. I’m still thinking about it. I mean, what’s in it for me apart from what you claim will be something wonderful.”

I took her hand and pressed it against my groin where my erection was pushing to get free.

“That’ll be in you for a start,” I said, smiling gently. (At least, I hope I was smiling gently and not leering lasciviously.) “What Anadolu Yakası Escort more could you want?”

“Well, you owe me five for acting as your guide,” she said. “Why don’t we make it twenty five for guiding and other services?”

“I think my finances would stretch to that,” I admitted. Hell, my finances would have stretched to a lot more than that if pushed, and you wouldn’t have had to push hard. “Tell you what. I’ll give you the money up front and you can reserve the right to change your mind if you find you don’t like what I’m doing.”

I very quickly produced my wallet and passed over the required twenty five. Debbie smirked and tucked it away in the pocket of her shorts. I then suggested that she move into the back seat with me.

“Why do we have to get in the back seat?” she asked.

“We’ll have more room,” I told her. “You’ll see what I mean.”

She shrugged, turned, and scrambled over the front seat and into the back. It took a herculean effort of will-power not to give that little bottom a boost as she went. For my part I chose to get out the front door and in the back.

I didn’t rush her. I just calmly started flicking open the buttons on her shirt, letting a lovely pair of breasts emerge. Creamy white with strawberry tips, they were exquisite, just made for a man to reach for.

“Bellissima,” I said softly, reaching over to stroke them.

“What does that mean? They’re too small. Boys like great big breasts,” she said, sounding a trifle disgruntled.

“It’s Italian. It means beautiful, but expresses it much more ardently than mere English can do. Boys might like great big breasts but men appreciate all of nature’s offerings. Your breasts are just the right size to fill my hands. What more do I need?”

I demonstrated how naturally her breasts filled my hands, my thumbs finding her nipples and rolling them gently. After teasing her breasts for a few moments I moved a hand away and leaned forward to catch a breast in my mouth, first letting my mouth roam around it before finally latching onto her nipple and gently sucking. From there I moved to her other breast and treated it in the same manner.

When I finally leaned back her face was flushed, her nipples were peaked, and I could see that she was becoming aroused. It was time to move things along. I would have liked to stroke her legs, sliding my fingers under her shorts to tantalise and tease, but those shorts were so tight there was no way I could slip my fingers between them and her legs. The big question was whether to strip of her shorts first or to tease her through them? Take it slow, I cautioned myself.

I started kissing her breasts again but now my hand was also stroking her leg. It moved slowly up the inside of her thighs, but not for long as she hastily closed her legs. I didn’t try to force the issue, just leaving my hand where it was. As expected she relaxed after a few moments, letting my hand move a little higher.

It wasn’t long before I was rubbing her mound through her shorts and not long after that she was moving restlessly. I continued the massaging for a while and then drew back again. Now I reached for the fastenings on her shorts and started undoing them. She quickly grabbed my hands to stop me.

“Stripping you completely, remember,” I reminded her. “Would you prefer me to take my trousers off first?”

She blushed at that, flicking a glance down at my crotch. Then she dithered, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll take mine off and you can play with what you find there,” I told her. “I’m willing to wait before we take yours off.”

I suited actions to words, undoing my belt and dropping my trousers and undies. Happy to be free my erection stretched itself, accompanied by a shocked gasp from Debbie.

“Just see what it feels like,” I coaxed her, moving her hand over and pressing it against me. Her hand closed around me, apparently of its own volition as Debbie seemed to be denying that she was doing it. Whatever, her runaway hand started exploring, running up and down my shaft, giving the head an occasional polish.

I let my hand drift over to her shorts again, flicking open the fasteners. Debbie immediately protested.

“You said you’d wait,” she was quick to point out.

“I am waiting,” I explained. “I’m just undoing the fastenings in anticipation. It doesn’t mean they have to come down.”

What it did mean was that her shorts were open İstanbul Escort at the top, giving me room to slide my hand inside them. It wasn’t long and I was rubbing her mons and mound again, but this time it was on her naked flesh. I’ll admit that her shorts and panties did drift down a little while I was doing this, but that wasn’t by design. Pure coincidence, I assure you.

Apart from a gasp when a couple of fingers slipped between her lips Debbie didn’t really react to my further intrusions. A little careful probing clarified one thing for me. She might technically be a virgin but her hymen had long since departed. I’d expected that it might have. Country girls ride horses and bouncing up and down on a horse’s back had been known to break more than one hymen. (Or been blamed for it when a young lady had an otherwise unexplainable misadventure.)

Based on the amount of experience that Debbie did not have I adjusted my exploring to concentrate on the area around her clitoris. A very sensitive area, that. One that was likely to encourage a young maiden to further explore the sensations that touching there caused. I knew I’d hit the right spot when she made a strangled sound and her clasp on my erection nearly crushed the poor thing.

This time when I started to draw her shorts down Debbie didn’t let out a peep. She just watched as her shorts and panties were drawn down and off, being tossed onto the front seat. I then detached her hand from my cock and urged her into a prone position, one leg dangling over the side of the seat and the other pushed up, her foot resting on the back of the seat. I was nicely positioned between her legs, my cock hovering over her.

I brushed the head of my cock up and down the length of her slit a couple of times, seeing how she instinctively pushed towards me to capture it. She was more than ready for me.

“Last chance if you’ve changed your mind,” I warned her, easing her lips apart and positioning myself. All she did was give me an ‘are you an idiot’ look, before switching her gaze back to where I was now pressing quite firmly against her.

Then I wasn’t pressing against her but into her, sliding smoothly down her passage. She was hot and tight but her natural lubrication eased my way in. She gave what sounded like a sincere groan of relief as I plunged home.

A couple of slow strokes and I could feel her starting to move with me.

“Wrap your legs around me and you can help pull me in as we go,” I suggested, and she didn’t need to be told twice. One leg dropped and the other rose to join it, both of them wrapped around my waist, and as I thrust into her she was flexing them, pushing up against me at the same time. I had to work hard to establish a nice rhythm as she kept trying to go for broke.

Once the novelty of what she was feeling died down a little she was quite willing to calm down a bit and work with me, letting me set the pace and just responding to my actions instead of trying to force her own. I took my time, building on the arousal already there, slowly lifting her to where she was sure to have a climax once I decided to end things.

Not that I wanted to end things just yet. I was quite content to take the long road, enjoying the delightful feeling of flesh rasping against flesh, teasing me and arousing me. Debbie was full of eager little gasps, loving the feel of her own sensations, quite happy at this stage to just relax and enjoy. (Well, maybe not relax, as she was putting considerable effort into the way she was responding, but definitely enjoying.)

I could tell when she was finally ready to climax and this put me in another dilemma. Did I wind up with a big bang and let her have her climax or did I stuff around, leaving her hanging until I was ready to release her? Somewhat reluctantly I decided that I should let her climax, although if there was ever another time I’d leave her hovering at the brink for as long as possible. Decision made I stepped up to my end game, driving in high, wide and handsome.

She gave a couple of surprised cries at the sudden change in action, and then she was too busy climaxing and screaming to worry about anything.

I let her have some tissues so she could clean up a little and she was totally relaxed as she got dressed again. We returned to the front seat and continued on our way. Interesting places, little country towns. You never know the sort of people you might meet.

I, being a big city sort of person, or possibly because I was born suspicious, was the type of person who had front and back dash-cams in my car, just in case of an accident. I also had one in the roof that recorded what took place in the car. I wondered how well that video would come out. It would be interesting to see.

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