Road Tales

Day One

It was a hard rain pounding against the windshield of the motorhome, as I made my way through the semis and their loads to the diesel pumps. Thankfully, the pumps were under cover and I was able to fuel shielded from the driving pellets of water that were tumbling from the low-lying clouds.

I noticed her when I went inside to pay at the fuel desk. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and judging by the backpack and dripping poncho, she'd been hitching her way through the storm. Paying my bill, I turned to make the run to the motorhome and there she was, again.

"This is certainly no weather to be caught out in," I remarked as I stood there waiting for a couple of rigs to move through the lane.

"You've no idea how right you are," she laughingly said.

"Where are you headed to?" I asked.

"Eventually, to Eugene, Oregon,", adding, "I'm a senior this year at the University, and classes start in a few weeks."

"Well, I don't make as fast a trip as the big rigs," I said to her, "But, I'm heading out to Portland to see some friends and you're welcome to catch a ride with me and my motorhome, if you'd like."

She looked at me a bit askance as she pondered my out-of-the-blue offer for a ride.

I'm 60 years old, widowed, and have spent the better part of this year, roaming the country, seeing friends, dealing with the loss of my wife. Another soul in the motorhome would be welcomed company for the long trip that lay ahead. I've got grandchildren that are her age, so the only thing on my mind was a neighborly offer of help.

"Won't your wife mind?" she asked.

" My wife died last year but even if she were here, she wouldn't have minded me offering you a ride," I said to her, adding, "but it's your choice."

"OK," was all she replied, following my lead on the run to the motorhome.

I got her gear squared away and pulled away from the pumps to a parking area. I gave her a quick run-through on how to use the toilet while I drive, the water pump, etc., making sure she was comfortable with the procedures.

We hit the road, grabbing a spot on the turnpike, for the westward journey. We were in Central New York State, not far from Utica, where she was visiting some friends at the University there.

Her name was Jenny but preferred to be called by the shortened version, Jen. She was 20, a ward of her grandparents who have raised her since her parents were killed in a plane crash when she was 4 years old. Her memories of them, vague, her grandparents the only parental influences in her life from that point on. They didn't know that she was hitching across the country, thinking that she had caught a ride with friends both to Utica, and, for the return trip.

I held out my hand to her and said that I'd be proud to be her 'friend', laughing as I did so. She grabbed my hand, shook it, and laughingly told me that she'd be proud to have me as her friend.

In answer to her questions about the routing and time for the trip out to Oregon, I answered her in detail, explaining that we'd make about 400 to 500 miles a day, depending on the weather, traffic, etc.

"It should take us about 5 or 6 days," I went on to explain.

I saw a flicker of concern cross her face and intercepted her thoughts about the overnights required.

"The couch in the living area of the motorhome opens up into a pull-out double bed," I said to her, "that's where you'll sleep."

The rest of the trip, that first day together, was all about getting into each other's head, finding out about the other. She became very comfortable with my laid-back attitude, a left-over from my years as a drummer with various groups, some of note, most, not. We pulled into a campsite in Ohio that night, and after getting 'hitched up' at the utilities at the site, I gave her a run-through on the motorhome, it's features, and it's conveniences. She was particularly enthralled with my satellite system which not only provided me with TV signals but was my Internet connection, as well.

I showed her how the shower worked, and pulled the privacy curtain which separated the bath area from the living/kitchen area of the rig. She emerged, a half-hour later, looking radiant from the hot, steamy shower, her hair still wet.

I made us a quick dinner of a shrimp scampi and salad, watching her devour it as if it were her last meal. No leftovers for this girl, that was for sure. We topped it off by finishing a bottle of wine, and watched a little cable news, catching up with the rest of the world, retiring around 10 than evening, each to our own bed. I had made hers up and mine, of course, was in the rear bedroom.

"Coffee will be ready by seven," I said to her, " and we'll pull out of the campsite by eight," telling her good-night.

Day Two

She became quite the traveling companion, getting used to the rocking motion of the motorhome as I drove us down the road when she went to the fridge to get drinks, or whatever. She got her 'sea-legs' quickly.

Around two in the afternoon, I looked over at her, asleep in the other captains' chair, and reaching into my driver's compartment on the side of my seat, I found my pipe, and fired it up.

I smoke ganja, and have for years, finding it a soothing source of relaxation as I motor down the road. The aroma awakened her, and looking over, she laughed.

"I've died and gone to heaven," she laughingly said. "You look so straight, weed would have been way down my list of things you did."

"It is for most people, except my closest friends."

"Any chance, you'd share some of that with me?"

"Not only will I share it with you, girly," I replied, "but you get the honor of preparing the next bowl."

And so she did. And so we did.

It was a happy duo that checked into the next campsite in Illinois that afternoon.

We both showered and unhooking my tow vehicle, I drove us into town and bought us a nice steak dinner. She reluctantly accepted my offer to pay for dinner, feeling uncomfortable at accepting both a ride, and in her mind, room and board.

"Listen, Jen, I enjoy your company, and I have the means, so why not?"

After dinner and returning to the RV, I hooked up the tow vehicle and we both spent the rest of the evening on our respective laptops, utilizing my WiFi setup in the RV, catching up with Emails, etc. We also shared some more weed, her appetite for it, as great as mine. Her ability to handle it? Not so much.

She apologized for her 'nonsensical ' ranting, explaining that when she smokes, she gets 'motor-mouth disease'. I laughed at her, and told her not to worry about it.

"Don't worry, be happy," I sang, and we both laughed that silly, ganja-induced giggle that occurs when under the influence.

She kissed me goodnight, on my cheek, as I left to go to bed, and gave me a hug.

"I've really enjoyed being in your company these past couple of days. I feel very comfortable with you, not anxious or worried for my well being," she said as I returned her hug.

"Me, too, girly, I've enjoyed your company as well. Makes an old man feel young to be around young, spirited people," I said

"You know something?" she asked, "I don't 'feel' that age difference at all. I feel like we're both pretty ageless, here," she ended.

"Yeah, me too," I replied and with that, went to bed.

Day Three

Beautiful scenic vistas before our eyes, laughter, and singing along with rock classics, and a shared fondness for the ganja plant; it doesn't really get much better than that.

This day, she chose a pair of shorts and a simple spaghetti-strapped top to wear as we drove, and I must shamefully admit that the first thoughts of a carnal nature began to bounce around in my head. She was braless, her nipples hard against the thin fabric, the form of her breasts clearly outlined by the cotton fabric. The last few hours of driving before we pulled into a campsite for the night, we shared a couple of bowls, which only made my mind race with thoughts of her body, of making love to such a nubile woman. My cock was responding to my thoughts with thoughts of it's own.

After checking in, she suggested that we eat in and watch some TV, or listen to music, but getting 'really stoned' as we did so.

"Sounds like a plan," I responded, and asked her to clean some weed from my stash while I popped in a couple of quickie TV-style dinners.

We ate, we smoked, we giggled at some funny sitcoms, and we smoked some more. After a bit, she and I were both 'in the bag', really 'zoned'.

"I'm heading to bed to finish watching TV, while I still can maneuver my way back there," I said, laughing.

"Want some company?"

"Really?" was my surprised reply.

"I don't mind sharing a bed and sleeping with someone, it's comforting for me," she said, "but, if you're not OK with it…." She said, letting her voice trail off.

"Sure, Jen, I'm OK with that," was my reply.

She changed into a sleep-set of top and shorts in the bathroom, and joined me in my bedroom, fluffing up her pillows as I had in order to watch some tube.

"You don't look sixty," she said after a while.

"I try to take care of myself," I replied.

I don't look sixty, she's right. Most people, meeting me for the first time, think I'm in my late forties or so. Until my wife passed away, we were both avid joggers and since her passing, I've toned down the running and do a lot of walking, and watch my caloric intake as well. I'm about 180 lbs and just over six feet tall. Even the TV dinners I had zapped for us were of the 'Lean Cuisine" type of meals.

She fell asleep before I did but I was soon in slumberland as well.

Day Four

She was quiet the next morning after we got up, got dressed and hit the road. Sensing she was bothered by something I asked her what the problem was that was causing her to be a 'little down' this fine day.

"Can I be totally forthcoming with you, I feel as if I can," she said, softly.

"Brutally so, Jen, I've heard it all for the most part, so lay it on me," I replied to her.

"I'm bummed because the trip will soon be over, and I've had the most wonderful three days of this summer with you, and I don't want it to end so quickly," she said in a flurry of words, staccato in her manner. It was as if she had to say them quickly or she wouldn't have said them at all.

"Yeah, I've enjoyed your company as well, sweetie, you're a joy to be around and I'm a bit disappointed that it'll end soon also," was my response.

We rode in silence for a hundred miles or so, listening to the satellite radio, a never-ending source of good tunes.

"You never tried anything with me last night," she said out of the silence.

"Don't make out to be a knight in shining armor, Jen," I said, "I thought about it. A lot. All day yesterday, in fact."

"Me too," she said, "and that's not at all like me. I'm not a promiscuous person, I'm really not, but there's something about you that piques my curiosity. This was to be a summer of exploration of myself," she continued, "but it hasn't been that at all."

"What were you seeking?" I asked

"The real me," was her reply, "I don't know that person yet, but I'm trying to make that acquaintance."

More silence between us. More road miles slipping by underneath the wheels of our vehicle.

This time I broke the silence.

"What would you have done, if I had 'tried' something with you, Jen?"

More silence from her and then, finally, she answered.

"I think I would have let you," she said, again softly.

We drove on to our evening stop in the mountains of Wyoming. The cool crisp air feeling refreshing when we got set up at the campsite, all three of my slide-outs expanding the motorhome to the size of a small, efficiency apartment.

We unhooked the tow vehicle, drove into town for a quiet dinner, complete with some excellent wine, two bottles to be exact.

Returning, there was a sense of tension, in the background to be sure, but present nevertheless.

When I returned to the inside of the motorhome after re-hooking up the tow vehicle, I heard her in the shower, so I rolled a couple of doobies for us to relax with, after I showered next. She emerged from the bath area, slid back the privacy curtain, looking radiant as ever, her short, dark hair wet against her head. She was in her sleep-set, and the fabric stuck to the wet areas of her body that she hadn't completely dried off.

I gave her one of the joints and told her to save me a bit for after my shower, and we'd smoke the second one as a goodnight treat. She looked up, took the offered doobie, and smiled at me, her green eyes seemingly shining with their own light.

When I got out of the shower, I stepped into my bedroom, which was behind the privacy curtain and found Jen in my bed, firing up the rest of the first joint I had given her. I tried to hide my nakedness with my towel.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, "but I thought you were still in the front of the coach," reaching for my sleep shorts and stepping into the bathroom to put them on.

She was giggling when I came back into the bedroom.

"Glad I could make you laugh with my naked body," I embarrassingly said, laughing a bit with her.

"Oh, no," she quickly said, "that wasn't it at all. Please don't be offended, I didn't mean to offend you. I was laughing at the shocked look on your face. It was absolutely precious," she explained.

She patted the bed, next to her, and suggested we smoke a lot of dope and find a movie to watch.

"Otay, buckwheat, I'm good with that plan," I jokingly replied.

It wasn't all that much dope. Both of the joints I had rolled for us, plus a bowl of my primo-stash, but it was enough to put us both quickly into a zone. I don't even remember what movie we were watching but about an hour into it, she had snuggled up against me, into the crook of my arm that I placed around her.

She kissed me. On my bare chest, just above the nipple, almost an absent-minded little peck. Then she did it again, a little wetter this time, the heat from her mouth sending signals to my semi-hard cock. She continued in this way, little kisses on my chest, my shoulder, working her mouth up my neck until I leaned down and met her lips with my own, her mouth opening, welcoming, warm, wet.

We kissed softly, sweetly, our mouths becoming familiar with the other. I stroked along her rib cage as we forgot about the movie, both of us into kissing the other. Her hand stroked along my chest, pausing at my nipples, and then onto my stomach, rubbing across it slowly, sensually. My hand found the side of her breast under her sleep-top and I cupped it in my hand, softly squeezing my palm against it's shape, feeling her nipple harden under my palm, pushing against the fabric of her top.

She let her head fall against the pillows as I adjusted myself so that I could kiss her deeply, my kisses trailing along her face to her neck, to the swell of her breasts. She wrapped her arms around me, holding me close to her as I nibbled on her earlobes, and kissed the top of her breasts. When I slid my hand under the thin material, and began rubbing her nipples between my fingers, she sighed deeply into my mouth as we kissed.

I pushed up her top, revealing her young, firm breasts and began kissing them, one at a time, taking her hard nipples into my mouth, sucking on them, her breathing increasingly heavier as I did so. My hand slid between her thighs, which she spread for me, and found her warm crotch, wet and soft. I rubbed her softly as we kissed, her lips a tonic for me, her tongue firing my horny machine into high gear.

I pulled her short bottoms down and off of her, revealing her nakedness, her short pubic hair, her belly as flat as a board. I kissed her body, moving ever so surely to her crotch, where my finger was manipulating her clit, alternately sliding into her very wet, very warm pussy, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps by now.

When my lips and tongue found her clit, she pulled my face hard against her moving pelvis, rubbing her pussy against my mouth. It took her about a nano-second to reach her first orgasm, a long, body-racking orgasm that had her crying aloud with pleasure. Then, quickly, came three more climaxes, each seemingly better than the previous.

After the last one subsided, she pulled me up to her and kissed me hard and deep, her tongue trying to slide into my stomach it seemed, it was so far into my mouth and throat.

"Holy fuck! What the hell was that?" she finally said, after breaking off our kiss.

"What?"

"What you just did." What the hell was that?" was her reply.

"I'm sorry, but I thought I was bringing you enjoyment," I said, a bit confused and a bit worried, now.

"Damned right, you did!" she enthusiastically exclaimed, "You should be giving lessons on how to eat pussy," she gushed and kissed me again, hard and deeply.

Her lips kissed and sucked on my body as she moved her head slowly down my body, reaching my crotch, her hands pulling my sleep shorts off of me and she gasped when her hand wrapped around my rather large, thick cock. A smile broke out on her face as she lowered her head to take me into her mouth. It was a bit of a struggle for her to get her mouth around my cock, but she managed and slowly, sensually, sucked on me, taking more and more of me into her mouth and throat. I lasted much longer than I thought I would but felt my climax building to completion.

"Sweetie, I'm about to cum," I warned her.

She lifted her head from my cock, licking her lips from my precum, and said, "I'm counting on it, I want you to cum in my mouth," and lowered her head to resume sucking on me.

She was rewarded with a boatload of release, which she swallowed, having to catch her breath twice but swallowing it all. And then she licked me clean, slowly, softly, and lovingly.

We rested, letting me catch my 'second wind', snuggling and kissing with each other as long-time lovers might.

When I was ready, she mounted me, holding my cock with her hand as she guided it into her. We fucked with abandon for quite a while before we both reached our orgasms, together, rocking the motorhome as we rode them into exhaustion.

We fell asleep, her in my arm, snuggled against me, her hand wrapped around my cock.

I awakened the next morning with her mouth sucking on my cock, waking me with a very wonderful blowjob, and then I did her. Her climax was a good as the previous night's orgasms.

We left a bit late for our last and final day's travel and agreed to delay our arrival by pulling in for another night before I dropped her at her school.

And so we did, and so we enjoyed one last night of outstanding love-making. She asked me to fuck her in the ass, just once, so that she could experience it. And I did, and she enjoyed it so much, she said, "it scares me!"

We parted that next day, exchanging contact info before we did.

Kissing me goodbye in the motorhome, she leaned back with her arms around my neck and thanked me for a wonderfully, surprising ride home.

"I'm not promiscuous but I could make an exception with you," she said, kissing me for the last time.

"Enjoy your youth, Jen, it's gone before you know it but for a little while, with you, it was good to feel young again," I said as she stepped out of the door.

She smiled that gorgeous smile of hers one last time, and she was gone.