It was a warm day, not hot, by any means, but warm. Spring was beginning to make a gradual transition into summer. Being a college town, this towns population is reduced by nearly half when the students leave in May, leaving only the year-round residents and occasional visitors from the countryside.

It becomes a little quieter, with less traffic and confusion more like the kind of small town that visitors see it as. I had been walking for three years, well, really only for a few blocks on this particular journey, but the three years since I had racked up the car made it seem like I had been walking that long. Racking up the car, now there was an unpleasant memory, getting so drunk that even the bar that never refuses to serve anyone had refused to serve us, then taking off at two in the morning, looking for the strip club that continued to serve until four.

I had lost control of the car, putting it in the ditch, and totaling it out. The cop who came with the ambulance didnt give me a DUI, just a lecture and a ticket for driving too fast for conditions. Neither of us I still cant remember the name of my drinking buddy that night were left with any permanent injury, except that I was left with the kind of guilt that it seems only an Irish Catholic upbringing can bring. From the following Monday, I had begun walking to work, a journey of five miles.

The walking was a kind of self-imposed punishment, but it was only the beginning. Although the punishment would be modified over the course of the following months to hitch-hiking, then cycling, the term I had given myself, for no judge ever even addressed this case, would go on from November of 1983 until September of 1988. This day was different. I had become infatuated with a woman I knew from work, and after long soul-searching, even worked up the nerve to tell her that I was interested in her. She had told me she was seeing someone else, not really a surprise come to think of it, since I had no car, and no real prospects of getting one any time soon, besides, it may also have been true. Nonetheless, I was pretty discouraged.

It was warming up, and, since I was on the way home from the grocery store with a backpack full of groceries, it felt warmer still. I reached the straight stretch of 4 lane highway and turned to try and see just how lucky my thumb could be. Theres a trick to hitchhiking, you see, and it has nothing to do with the weather either, many people are more reluctant to pick up a hitchhiker in the rain than in the sunshine.

You have to keep moving, people are unwilling to pick up someone who looks like they are waiting for someone to help them, not someone who seems to be ready to put in a little effort on their own. I got a ride pretty quickly, and it was a surprise.

An attractive young woman was at the wheel, and she was alone. She had been drinking, in fact she told me that she had just woke up on some strange womans floor, but she wasnt quite ready to go home yet. She asked me if I wanted a beer, but I had given that up sometime after the accident. She took me all the way home, and I offered to get her high. I was still smoking reefer in those days, and I had a little left.

She accepted and we fired up a bowl. She continued drinking, and we both continued smoking, and we talked about virtually nothing. She had told me that her brother, someone she hadnt mentioned before this might be looking for some weed, and asked if I knew anyone who could score him some. As it happened, two mutual friends were to meet at my place that very afternoon to make a deal. Now I didnt really know when they were coming, and I didnt really know this woman at all, and when she persisted in asking questions like this, I grew suspicious. It was time to ask her to leave. I began by asking her nicely, since I didnt want to be rude to a guest, particularly a pretty one.

She wouldnt go, I tried being more insistent, and still she was immovable. I persisted in telling her that she had to go home now. She began to move in the direction of the front door, but not out the door yet. Finally, she played her trump card. She pulled off her shirt. She was a nice looking woman, and even more so with her clothes off. I was thinking that this was unfair, and she crossed the room toward me and, dropping to her knees, began working on my swelling organ. Now it had been awhile, my ex-wife and I had experimented a lot with oral sex when we were together, and we had gotten pretty good at it. This girl was good at it, believe me, her lips and tongue were completely at home at this work. I finally told her that at least we should be doing this in the bedroom.

By the time we got back there, she had removed her shorts, revealing a pair of snug, skimpy panties.

As she sat on the bed, with her legs hanging over the edge, I removed her panties and began kissing my way up her smooth, sexy legs.

She asked me to get up on the bed with her. I complied, and began teasing that sexy little rosebud with my tongue. I have always enjoyed this, particularly since my partner enjoys getting it.

While I used to think that the scent was unpleasant, it began to be very arousing as I gained more practice.

And this mystery woman did enjoy herself that afternoon. After bringing her to her first climax with my tongue and lips, she shifted around and started back on the task she had begun earlier. It didnt take her too long to see results either, she was very good at it did I mention that?. She moved up and slid my length inside of her. She was snug, wet, and had two of the nicest boobs I had ever had wiggling playfully just out of reach of my lips. She moved slowly, using the muscles of her love in such a way that she could maintain my erection even after I had come. Her nipples were sensitive, she said, so I had to restrict myself to fondling and toying of her stunning breasts.

She took care of most of the movement at first, with my hands squeezing and caressing her butt. Then, at just the right moment, I grabbed her butt tightly with my hands and raised myself up on my heels. By shifting the weight to my heels, I began thrusting quickly from beneath her.

She began moaning and she was getting even wetter than she had when I had used my tongue. We came together and she asked me the same question my ex-wife used to ask me.

How did I do that? I have never been able to answer that, its just a gift. We played around a little, lying in bed together, and she decided she wanted a bath. We drew her one, and I helped scrub her back. Staring down at her, with her breasts wet and full, I couldnt help but begin to get aroused. She began fumbling with my pants again, trying to take me in her mouth. I dont know exactly why, but I thought this was too much. I pulled back. She continued to make an effort, right up until the time she left. In fact, after I had seen her to her car, she tried it again, of course, I had to pull back. The neighbors were watching.

As it turned out, the two friends I had thought she was trying to bust never arrived. I have only seen her once, since then, and she was with another guy and a small baby. I had suspected that she was teaching someone a lesson by staying out all night and making love to another man, but, after all, Ill never really know, will I?