A Ride Home

It was my first, and one of the most erotic experiences of my life. In fact, I still get a little excited thinking about it. I was working as a dishwasher at a little Italian restaurant that was owned by an acquaintance of my mom, and the place was about 5 miles from my folks' house where I lived. I can't remember how I got to and from work most of the time, but I do remember one night when I got a ride home from Tony, one of the cooks. He also gave one of our waitresses, I think her name was Rachel, a ride home that night. The thing was, Tony had a mini truck which only sat two people. Mini trucks were popular in the late 80's/early 90's, but if you haven't seen one, a mini truck was a small Mazda or Toyota pickup truck that was lowered, had the hydraulics like I low-rider (which Tony's didn't have because he was broke), and the obnoxious subwoofer that pumped out a garbled mess of super low bass that rattled the hell out of everything in a two-block radius.

But enough about Tony and his ridiculous truck. Rachel, the only waitress that night, was a fucking goddess. When I think of her, I have a hard time not picturing Raquel Darrian, the pornstar from the same era because she looked so much like her. She was probably in her early 20's and just had an amazing body: long dark hair, angelic face with luscious lips that were always shiny with lip gloss, big dark eyes, and amazing legs. I'm not a huge leg guy-I like nice legs-but hers were the kind of legs that would make you a leg guy whether you wanted to be or not. She always wore a short but tasteful skirt to work that was tight enough to show off a beautifully shaped ass, but it was long enough to not be scandalous. She always wore shoes that had a bit of a heal, not shoes that would be terrible to work in, but shoes that made her an inch or two taller and caused her calves to flex as she walked.

From my station at the dishwashing area, I would watch her walk through the swinging saloon-style doors into the kitchen, turn right and go to the little fridge in the front to get the dinner salads that were already prepped. It was the kind of fridge that was about 8 feet long, had glass doors, and a counter on top of it. I would watch her bend over to get the salads from the fridge and would silently pray for her skirt to rise just a little bit higher, but of course it never did. As is typical for a young man, a gentle breeze was enough to make me hard, so this little show was killing me-and of course I loved it. I'd like to say she knew what she was doing to me, but I'm sure she was oblivious to the young guy in back spraying sauce off the plates. Sometimes, I'd get lucky, and I'd be kneeling down, putting salad plates or something in the fridge, when she'd come up and grab something out of the fridge next to me and then stand there getting dressing ready. She'd be close enough that I could smell her perfume. I've since smelled the same perfume that she wore, and it has literally turned my head so many years later. I've honestly stopped what I was doing at a grocery store just to follow the scent trail of that same perfume.

One evening, she got her salads while I was loading the fridge. While she was getting the dressing ready, she spilled a few drops of ranch dressing which landed on my arm, the floor, and a small drop on her stocking-covered leg. I heard her say, "Shit!" and when I looked up at her she had a salad plate in each hand already. Without thinking I just said, "Here," and wiped the drop from my arm with my finger and popped it in my mouth, then wiped the drop from her leg with my finger. But as I was about to pop the finger in my mouth a horrified feeling washed over me, but not before I popped that finger in my mouth. I couldn't believe I just licked my finger then wiped the dressing off her leg- and then licked my finger again! I looked back up at her, afraid of the disgust and shock I was sure would be on her face, but instead was greeted by a funny little smile. "Thanks," is all she said. But there was something about the way she said it that stirred my cock for the hundredth time that night. She wasn't mad at all, as I had feared. I went back to my dishes, and she went about her job like nothing had happened. Honestly, unless you are a horned-up young male, nothing had happened. But my head was swimming.

The end of the night came, and as we all were completing our closing duties, only Tony, Racheal, and I were left in the restaurant. I overheard her talking to Tony about getting a ride and when I asked him about it, he confirmed that he was going to give her a ride home. When I reminded him that he said he'd give me a ride home he just said, "Whatever dude, we'll figure it out," and went back to finishing up. Maybe Tony drove a different car to work today, I thought?

Nope. Rachel and I stood at the passenger door while Tony walked out to his mini truck. "I guess I can ride in back," I said, surveying the bed of the truck, "I can just lie down so the cops don't see."

Racheal interjected before Tony could respond with, "Nah, we can all fit in front."

Tony popped the doors, and we could both see that there were only two bucket seats in the front. I looked at Rachel and she just said, "You sit, and I'll ride on your legs. I think we can fit."

"Uh, okay," I said. I sat down and then watched in slow motion as that amazing booty came at me. She swung her legs inside and we both repositioned ourselves so that our legs could fit while she was sort of hunched over holding her purse.

"Is this-are you okay?" she asked, "Am I smooshing you?"

"Yeah, no, I mean yeah, but no I'm good," I stammered. I didn't care how uncomfortable it was, this was awesome, and I was already feeling high from the sweet smell of her perfume and hair, and the feeling of her hair tickling my face. This was the closest I'd ever been to a woman, and what a woman. I had no idea what to do with my hands, which were laying limp at my sides, so I just left them hanging there.

Tony fired up the engine, "Alright, hang on!" he said, and away we went, bass rumbling away. As soon as we started to move, I reacted and put my hands on her hips. I held my breath as I waited for a reaction from her, but she didn't seem to notice or care. I couldn't believe it.

The stupid truck was so low that he couldn't just pull out of a driveway and navigate dips like a normal person. He had to go super slow and cut across any dip at an angle so the thing wouldn't scrape the pavement, which it did most of the time anyway. But on that night, every little dip, bump, and vibration from the bass or the scraping of the road was okay by me.

From the moment she pointed her ass at my lap while getting in, I was concentrating on not getting a complete hard on, but there was really no way on earth I could keep from getting aroused. The only thing working in my favor was that my cock hurt a little from my jeans and boxers smashing my cock under the weight of her ass.

Then it hit me: I felt like Rachel was moving her ass around intentionally. I thought she was just trying to get comfortable at first, but then I realized she was moving it in little circles and seemed to be pushing back towards my cock. My mind was absolutely racing at this point. I couldn't believe she was doing this. She couldn't be doing that, right? I thought it was all in my head, but then I would feel her doing it at times that she didn't need to be bracing herself for the ride of the truck-she was doing it on purpose. I started to apply pressure with my hands at just the right moment when her ass was moving back on my lap and pushing into my cock. I did it ever so slightly, thinking I could call her crazy and deny it if she suddenly accused me of doing it intentionally. When it became clear to me that she was ok with the increased pressure, I began to increase the pressure even more. We hadn't even gone a mile by this point, and I'm already feeling like I'd died and gone to heaven, when Tony cranks the volume down and said he was going to stop at the gas station for some smokes. He grinds the thing into a spot at the station and asks if we want anything.

"Uh, I'm good", I say.

"No thank you", says Rachel.

"Okay, back in a sec", he said as he hopped out, leaving the truck running and the muted bass vibrating.

She turned her head and looked over her shoulder, "Do you want to get out? Are you good?" I could smell her sweet breath and could see her beautiful face illuminated by the gas station lights.

"No, I'm fine, this feels good- I mean I'm good!" I blurted out, feeling like a complete idiot. She kind of gave a knowing giggle, then gave her ass a slow rocking and grinding motion and said, "Yeah, you're good."

Tony was back in flash and as he approached the truck, I thought I heard her say, "You can touch me."

"What?" I said, but she didn't repeat herself. I didn't have time to think about whether I was hearing things or not, because when Tony opened the door, and the dome light came on, she shifted her weight onto her left cheek. Then, as he got in and the door shut, the light went out, and she stealthily took my right hand and moved it up to her right breast, which was mostly hidden from Tony's view by an open button-up sweater. Then she slipped her hand under her right cheek and directly onto my cock. She did this in one imperceptible motion, it seemed. I just sat there stunned. I know for a fact my right hand is on her right tit, but is that her hand on my cock?

As soon as we started to roll again, she started rhythmically squeezing my cock along with bumps and scrapes of the truck on the road. Tony turned the music back up just in time to cover the sound of my heavy breathing, which sounded like a freight train in my head. I tried to disguise my breathing with occasionally clearing my throat-I was just trying to act normal. Meanwhile, my virgin hand was holding on to an amazingly soft tit. I remember thinking how I could feel the bra under her shirt, and how the bra wasn't really soft-it was kind of stiff really- but that I could still feel that her boob underneath was soft. I could discern between the softness of her boob and the stiffness of her nipple. Oh god, a nipple! My attention was constantly being ripped away from my hand on her tit by the squeezing of her hand on my cock. My trance was broken momentarily by Tony asking what street he should take up the hill to my house.

It's funny, but even in my sex drunk state of mind, I knew that if I said 13th St (which was the quickest route) my horny tryst would be over sooner than if I said go up 11th. I wanted the bumps, dips, and stop signs of 11th, but I couldn't do that to Tony and his stupid mini truck.

"13th", I said. Now Rachel was really working my cock and with every squeeze I felt my ears get hot. I felt like a balloon animal that gets squeezed on one end and the other end swells up. I realized my hand was moving down from her breast, down her tummy, toward her crotch, and I felt like I was having an out of body experience or something. Like it was my hand, or maybe some invisible force was moving my hand. I knew I was doing it, but I felt like I was being so sneaky that it wouldn't be noticed by Rachel. Yet, at the same time, I knew she would notice, and I hoped she would be okay with it, or better yet, she would like it and want me to do it. Before I knew it, by hand was rubbing her pussy through her panties. I could feel the softness of her bush beneath the thin fabric, then a little lower I could feel the heat from her pussy. I could picture my hand on her panties. I think it was her panties, or maybe the skirt, I'm not sure. But I felt wetness, or dampness at least. Or maybe my hand was sweaty? I don't know but I felt like I was going to pass out. I listened for a moan or some kind of indication that I was doing it right, but Rachel didn't make a sound that I could hear. My ears were hot and ringing and I don't think I could have heard her if she had made an approving sound.

"Sooo," Tony prompted, as we made our way up 13th. "Uh, turn left at the next one," I said, trying to hide the horniness that was squeaking its way out of my throat. We made the left, then with one block to go I started to feel it. A tingling sensation that started in my toes, a warmth that flowed up my legs to a glow behind my knees and then a soothing ache in hamstrings and quads. My cock spasmed as what felt like a torrent of cum flowed from deep below my balls, flooding the right thigh of my boxers. I squeezed her thigh and held on.

"Here", I managed to squeak out in time for Tony to pull up out in front of my parent's house. "Thanks for the ride", I said, trying to sound normal. I kind of chuckled quietly to myself at the thought of what I just said. As the fuzziness faded and everything started to come back in focus, Rachel opened the door, and the harsh dome light startled me back to reality.

She untangled her legs from mine and swung them out the door. As she stood up, she adjusted her black skirt, and I stepped aside toward the rear of the truck. I quickly stepped out after her, trying to hide what I imagined was a huge puddle of cum seeping through my jeans. In one swift motion I saw her right hand come up from between her legs; her fingers were glistening in the evening light. With a smile she wiped them across my mouth and nose and softly said, "Thanks for the ride."

"Uh, yeah," is all I managed to get out before she was climbing back into the truck. I walked around the front of the truck and gave Tony a nod and a wave, then floated into the house and to my room on a cloud of musky pussy smell.