Jen: Route 66 Kicks-Tulsa

I still hadn't replaced my top, so Bob had a tough time deciding between watching the road or my swaying boobs. His still semi-erect cock was still peeking out at me. Increasing traffic made his decision for him. He had to watch the road more than me.

When he could breath normally again, Bob said, "My fraternity is having a big bash tomorrow night. I'm sure the men would enjoy having you around. I know I would. Will you come?"

Well now, the thought of a university fraternity house just chock full of young studs with raging cocks was quite an enticing thought. My answer was a forgone conclusion.

"I'd love to. What time?

"The buffet starts around five and the party goes on from there until..."

We drove on in silence until we neared Catoosa. I replaced my top and told Bob I wanted to stop and see the big, blue painted whale I'd read about. It's a walk in model that kids walk into through the whale's mouth and then climb a stairway to reach a slide that dumps them into a swimming area below. There was also a reptile zoo in a sort of Noah's Ark contraption. The place was a real tourist attraction.

After taking the requisite pictures, I said to Bob, "We have a lot of daylight left yet and I'm starved. Why don't we grab some stuff at a store and picnic in the country for a quick bite?"

"That sounds good to me. I'm half starved myself."

As we checked out, the kindly, middle aged, grocery store man asked, "Going on a picnic are you?"

"Yes," I answered, and almost as an afterthought asked, "Know any good spots to have one?"

With a decidedly mischievous look, he answered, "I think so, yes. It's only six miles east of here, but well worth the look see for your picnic. It's the old Timber Ridge Cemetery. You should be alright in broad daylight."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. You'll be fine."

"Well, how do we get there?"

After noting the directions he gave us, I said, "Well, that's back the way we came, but six miles isn't too far to have to backtrack."

We picked up our sacked up purchases and went back to Miss Swifty. We drove out on State Route 412 and found the place easily and quickly. We set up in the shade under a large oak tree. We didn't rush our picnic, but neither did we loiter overly long. Bob tried to get amorous, but I put him off by saying, "Not now, Bob, we have to get back on the road for now."

We packed up and got back in Miss Swifty. I brought her back to life and headed her back to town. We'd barely gotten underway when, out of nowhere it seemed, came this dark skinned little kid on a bicycle and we hit him, hard. The sound of the crash was terrible. I jammed on Miss Swifty's extra big racing brakes and screeched to an immediate halt. Bob and I piled out of Swifty like she was on fire and ran the short distance back to where we'd hit the bike. No body--no bike!

"What the hell" Tell me this isn't happening yet again?"

Nothing. Absolutely nothing. We walked in a daze, back to Swifty and her front facade. We found several deep scratches and a small dent in left corner bumper. There was also a few scratches in the paint of the fender that went deep enough to scratch the fiberglass body.

Once again, I cried, "What the hell? Those marks weren't there this morning. I swear they weren't."

I told Bob about the ghost experiences that had been happening to me on this trip. Apparently, this was another one. "And," I added, "they're scaring the shit out of me now. I'm not scared of the ghosts; I'm scared of what's wrong with me that I can see them. Am I crazy, psychic, or what?"

Even though I didn't want to take the time, Bob said we had to report the incident to the police. So, we drove back into Catoosa to the police station. Who'd believe a ghost story, I wondered. After we told our story, the officer just chuckled. For a third time, I asked, "What the hell?"

The officer just raised both hands shoulder high, palms outward towards us, and proceeded to tell us a story. According to this apparently locally well known story, a young Indian boy was struck and killed by a car while the boy was kneeling beside his bike there on the road. The boy was buried in Timber Ridge Cemetery in the first row, next to the gate at the bottom of the hill. Right near where we picnicked.

The story goes on to relate how, not long after the boy was buried, drivers began to claim sightings. They claimed that as they came over the hill, they would spot a young boy kneeling next to his bike and that they often had to swerve to miss him.

Other drivers reported that they distinctly heard and felt the car strike something. However, when they pulled their vehicles over, a body could not be found. Some even reported bloody hand prints on the fenders and damage to the front of their cars. The Catoosa Police Department has a number of files of such reports, including in some cases, picture of the damaged cars. No body was ever found.

Still other people have reported receiving mysterious nosebleeds when they passed by the cemetery gate. There are even reports of the gate acting as though it had a life of its own such as some who have sworn reports of the gate opening and closing with no observable human assistance.

The officer concluded his story by saying, "Welcome to the club. I hope you aren't too upset over the incident."

"Now," I said to no one in particular, "I know the reason for 'that look' and that comment made by the grocery store clerk."

The officer chuckled again.

"Oh, it's not the incident itself. It's like I told Bob, it's the number of incidents happening to me, one after another on this trip that has me a bit disturbed. So far as I know, I'm not psychic and nothing like this has ever happened to me before. That's what's scaring me."

"Well," said the officer, "You two have a safe trip on the rest of your journey."

As Bob and I approached Miss Swifty again, I looked at that front corner bumper with its scratches and said to him, "I'm not quite ready to get behind the wheel again just yet. Anyway, since it's just a short drive on to Tulsa and you know where you're going, why don't you drive from here?"

"Suits me. I've been hoping I could get my hands on you, uh, er, I mean, on your girl here again before we got to the frat house."

"Still with the flattery, eh, Bobby boy?"

Bob just grinned his smirky grin and saod. "Gotta keep trying. I'll break through and succeed yet."

As bob pulled onto the pavement for the final run into Tulsa, some six-hundred plus miles past Go, I had an inspiration. Whether out of mischievous impulse or as a distraction for what had just occurred, I didn't really know which, maybe both, I pushed my top up. Once again, my naked boobs swayed in the open air.

"I'm hot and need to cool off a bit in the breeze."

"Jen, sometime, you're going to tease me once too often and then lookout. I won't be responsible."

"Promises, promises, Bobby boy."

None-the-less, Bob couldn't keep his eyes off me. It was all he could do to keep Swifty in the lane. He passed a couple of semis and I again turned to face the truckers and gave them an eyeful or two. Loud blasts from their air horns signaled their appreciation. Not that I'm an exhibitionist, mind you. Ha, ha.

"Jeeze, that really felt good," I said.

I could tell from the bulge in his pants that Bob was feeling something as well. I reached over and caressed his jaw. He just swallowed hard and ground his teeth. I think he muttered something like, "Damned tease," but I didn't quite catch it.

We were nearly to the fraternity house before I replaced my top, much to Bob's relief or maybe to his dismay. Street lights were already on as dusk settled in as Bob wheeled into the circular drive in front of his frat house. He came to a stop with just a little screech of the tires.

That, and the burbling exhaust, was just enough noise to get the attention of several of his frat brothers up on the verandah who looked up with interest as I exited and went around to replace Bob at the wheel. Bob wore a cheesy grin as he looked toward the his brothers.

"They can't believe their eyes," Bob said. "Ole Bob who rarely dates."

"Well, Ciao until tomorrow night, Bob. Hang in there, you might get lucky yet."

With that, I revved Swifty's engine once to let her growl really good. Then I got rubber in first and second gear as I blasted out onto the street and pointed Swifty's nose toward downtown.

I found a motel, registered, and immediately got the shower running. I lost my few clothes in a blink and hopped into the cascading hot water. I had a long day ahead and an even longer, arduous night ahead--I hoped. Thus I intended to spend this night alone and asleep. I definitely wanted to be in top form for the frat boys at the party. But, I needed to brush up on my pre-trip research notes first.

After my shower, I settled down at the little table in my room and laid out my research. I remained comfortably naked in the cozy, warm room. I found the history of Tulsa intriguing.

The area of the present city, out in the middle of what was then known as Indian Territory, was settled by Native Americans in 1836 when they were forcibly made to relocate along the end of the infamous Trail of Tears. That was the result of the Indian Removal Act of 1830.

Some of the resettled Indians called their location, Tallahassee, while others used the Creek Indian word "Tulsy" which meant "Old Town." For the next twenty-five years they would lead a peaceful life in a primarily untamed wilderness with only a few white settlers in the area.

In 1846, Lewis Perryman, who was part Creek Indian, built a log cabin trading post near what is now 33rd Street and South Rockford Avenue. His business was quite successful until the Civil War, when many residents fled the area.

Federal troops abandoned the area to be sent back east to fight the war. Indian Territory would disintegrate into the chaos of lawlessness and banditry that would last until President Grant appointed Judge Isaac Parker in 1875 to rule over the federal district that included all of Indian Territory. Parker's court was located at Fort Smith, Arkansas on the eastern border of Indian Territory.

Eccentric, "Hanging Judge" Parker and his fascination with the singer Lilly Langtree is a fascinating study of its own but beyond the scope of this story. The important thing is that by whatever means, Judge Parker did restore law and order, more or less, to Indian Territory. Tulsa grew as a result.

The city of 1,100 people was incorporated on January 18, 1898. Oil was discovered in 1901 and Tulsa changed from a cow town to a boom town. In the 1920s, more oil deposits were found and Tulsa, now a city of 100,000 boomed even more in the roaring twenties. However, on May 30, 1921, a black mark in its history came about in one of the most gruesome and devastating race riots in United States history.

The riot was over in twenty-four hours. But it left thirty-five city blocks in charred ruins, over 800 people treated for injuries, almost 1,400 homes destroyed, and estimates of as much as 300 dead. But Tulsa survived and continued to grow.

As already mentioned, Cyrus Avery of Tulsa, along with John Woodruff of Springfield, Missouri, conceived the grand idea of linking Chicago to Los Angeles and began lobbying efforts to promote the new highway. The rest, as they say, is history (of Route 66). Tulsa itself would continued to prosper and grow, especially so with the 1970 opening of the Port of Catoosa. This linked Tulsa with the rest of the world via river navigation to the Mississippi River and the Gulf of Mexico.

By the time I finished pouring over my notes, the clock read five-forty-five in the morning. I sprawled across the bed and was almost instantly asleep. The clock read past noon when I finally opened my eyes the next time. My stomach growled in hunger, so I dressed quickly and headed out to find food. I pulled up near a trendy looking place that appeared to be catering to the university crowd and was about to enter when I saw an approaching beat cop. He was giving me the once over in a lustful sort of way, not the just a curious cop sort of way.

I stopped him and said, "I just got into town and I'm invited to a party later and need a costume. Do you know of any women's shop or party clothes rental store?"

Officer Tanner, the name on his I.D. tag, replied, "As a matter of fact, I do. There's one near the middle of my beat." Officer Tanner proceeded to give me directions for reaching said shop and I thanked him profusely.

Hunger winning out over clothes, I decided on breakfast, or very late lunch, first. Then I drove to the store mentioned by officer Tanner to try to find a suitable dress. The store was quite large and had a huge inventory of party favors, decorations, clothes for men, women, and children, shoes, and about anything else one could need for a party.

I went looking for a cocktail type dress. The young coed that waited on me was near my age and very pretty. She had a delicious looking body with boobs nearly as large as mine. I really wouldn't mind to get my hands on her tight, round ass or what was between her legs, for that matter.

"Now, just what made me think those wicked thoughts?" I softly whispered to myself. The name on her I.D. tag read, Sue. I found out Sue was good at her job, very good in fact. I was pantyless and braless, so I left my shorts and halter top on for the fittings. Sue helped me in and out of two possibilities that I rejected before she brought out the one I knew I'd take. This one was plain and unadorned, but a brilliant red satin and it was strapless. Sue came into the dressing room with me to help again.

I said, "I want to see how this will fit without these tight shorts." I hooked my thumbs behind the waistband of my shorts and dropped them, slowly and seductively, to the floor. Sue gasped and dropped her jaw as she stared at my bald and gleaming naked pussy. For good measure, I also unhooked my halter and dropped it onto the floor. The lust in Sue's eyes was unmistakeable.

Sue immediately stepped up to me and bent to fondle, kiss, and suck both tits and both nipples. She bit and snapped on my nipples until I felt pussy juice trickle down my legs. She dropped a hand to my pussy, felt the wetness, and immediately went to her knees to lap up my juices with enthusiasm. My but she was using a talented tongue. She was finger fucking me vigorously as she laved away with her tongue, keeping up with the outflow of my moisture. My orgasm was deep and powerful.

Sue stood up, dropped her slacks and thong and said, "Now you do me, I'm so hot I feel like I am burning up. Suck my pussy."

So, I did. I returned the favor. I licked and sucked on Sue's slit and her clit, bringing her to an equally deep and powerful orgasm. When we both had come back down to earth, Sue helped me into the dress. That dress was practically second skin around my boobs, it was so tight. But, the dress fit me to a "T" otherwise. I was already running late, so I told Sue, I would take the dress and I would wear it, since no alterations were going to be necessary. There was not time for any alterations anyway.

I went out with Sue to the cash register and whipped out my credit card to make the payment. There was some jewelry displayed at the counter and I saw a beautiful, single strand of pearls that I also purchased and then put around my neck, with Sue's caressing help. Sue pointed me in the direction of the shoe department and told me to ask for Dan and to tell him that she had sent me over there.

Arriving at the shoe department, I slipped out of my sandals and sat down. Two young studs headed my way, intent on serving as my sales clerk. I asked if Dan was around. One of the two turned away with a long look of disappointment. The other said, "Hi, I'm Dan, how can I help you?" He asked this with a grin that was nearly a lustful leer.

My answer was, "Hi, my name's Jen and I want to buy some black, pattent leather pumps."

Dan pulled up a fitting stool, sat, and used the measuring board to find my size. That new cocktail dress was quite short, mid calf on me. Dan glanced up to say something to me, but his gaze never got above my crotch level. I'd made no attempt to pull my dress hem down as it wouldn't have moved much anyway since there was insufficient slack to pull down as a cover. I had also left my legs spread some

Well, as a result, there was one, whole, naked, and now glistening pussy on full display. Dan swallowed hard, gulped, and then sighed, "Oooohh!" He just managed to check the readings on the measuring board and then stood up with a face radiating wonderment--and lust. As he stood, I noticed his instant hard on tenting out his pants. Dan didn't try to hide his erection. I think he was to stunned, he simply forgot what he was showing, or he didn't care. When Dan returned with three boxes, his hardon was apparently so stiff that he was hurting.

Dan managed to sit and helped me try on one of the pairs of shoes. Once again, he got hung up, looking up my thighs at my bare pussy. I said, "You can touch it if you like." He finished getting one shoe on my right foot and then put his hand under and up my dress. He had some very talented fingers. He expertly slid his middle finger up and down my slit and under my clit. He had me really wiggling in seconds.

We had semi-privacy for the moment as there was no one else in the immediate vicinity. It was a good thing, because now Dan took a shoehorn attached to a long handle about as big around as his center finger, reversed it to handle first, and pushed that up under my skirt. When he reached my pussy, liberally flowing with moisture, he slowly pushed that handle into my cunt. Then he rotated the handle around as well as moved it up and down.

Well, it certainly didn't take much of that before I gushed with an orgasm. Dan withdrew the shoe horn just before another customer appeared and sat down a short way down the row of seats. The other male clerk stepped out and went over to wait on the new customer. But he managed a leering smirk at us in the process. He must have been watching the whole time. I confirmed this when I saw the boner he had almost, but not quite, hidden in the front of his pants.

I had both shoes on and they fit perfectly as I rose and walked a short ways and back. Dan then said, "I'm as stiff as Cleopatra's obelisk and I need some relief. Let's step in back a moment." He led me into the back stockroom area and a secluded corner. He wasted no time lifting my skirt, flipping out his cock, and, with my back up against the wall, plunging into my cunt balls deep in one hard thrust. Yeah, he was aroused all right!

I put my legs around his waist and we humped away with gusto. Dan's cock was not huge, but he knew how to use it and use it well, that's for sure. He was aroused enough that it only took him half a dozed thrusts or so before he shot a huge load of cock cream into my cunt. We both stood in place panting with the short but forceful exertion.

Salesman, Jose suddenly appeared beside the two of us standing there still coupled. He said, "I told that little old lady that we didn't have the kind of shoes she wanted and she left. Now I want a piece of this action." Dan backed out of me with a sucking, gooey sound as my feet dropped to the floor.

I said to Jose, "I'd be happy to oblige you, but I don't want to get this dress messed up on the floor, we fuck the same way Dan and I just did, here, up against the wall.

Jose didn't need time to consider. He dropped his pants and briefs and unleashed a fat, longish cock. Since he new what we had been up to ever since I came into the shoe department and he had witnessed our little game with shoe horn out front, Jose was also well aroused and dribbling precum. His circumcised cock bounced and twitched as he walked up to me.