College Daze Ch. 01

COLLEGE DAZE

Chapter 1

I love the desert at night. The heat of the day has dissipated and it is quiet, except for the wind blowing through the windows of my restored Caddy, cruising down the freeway at a little over a hundred with the radio blasting. The heavy "rush hour" traffic on Sunday night from Las Vegas to Los Angeles has passed and I have the freeway to myself. The only thing I need to look out for is the occasional cop, but most of them are at home in bed or at some truck stop scarfing donuts and swigging coffee. At this speed, the night is flying by, I should be back in San Diego a couple of hours before my first class at SDSU starts for the Fall semester of the last year of my Ph.D. program in computational physics.

Keeping a sharp eye for the enemy of the highway song, something flashes by, something that isn't right, out of place on the side of the road. I slam on the brakes, coming nearly to a stop in time to pull over and drive up the on-ramp (I know it's the wrong way, but I don't care).

Continuing back to the freeway using the off-ramp, I see the small figure, hurdled against one of the poles for the exit sign. Disheveled blonde hair obscures the face. It must have been the hair I saw, because everything else is clad in black: black shoes, black jeans, and a black shirt.

Alighting from the car, I yell, "Hello?" across the fifty foot gap. The sounds of the crickets chirping in the night and the air horn of a semi a quarter of a mile away on the other side of the freeway are the only responses to my query.

Moving closer, I hunch down about an arm's length away and repeat my salutation, this time barely above a whisper. I see the figure is definitely a woman. Rolling forward onto my knees, I reach out towards the mass of shoulder length curly hair. I find her chin and lift her face up.

The wind changes directions and I am assaulted by the overwhelming scent of alcohol as I get the first glimpse of her face. I smile and say, "Hi," calmly. Large, puffy eyes stare back at me, lines of mascara fade near her jaw line.

"Are you okay?" I ask. She shakes her head and tries to look down again. My hand, still on her chin, stops the attempt.

"Come on," I state, wrapping my arm around her waist and lifting her to her feet, not allowing her to refuse. She is tiny, a little more than a foot shorter than my 6'2" and probably weighing about one-half of my 195 pounds. As I stand to lift her up, I misjudge her size and we both tumble to the ground, her on top of me luckily.

She giggles.

I can't help it; I laugh too.

"That was smooth," I pant out after we stop laughing. She smiles and nods her head. That smile. Her entire soul goes into that smile, a smile that could light up the whole world. It sure lights up mine.

Walking back to the car, I can see her for the first time, illuminated by the head lights of my car. I look down at her. I can see down her nose, small, straight, perfect. Further down, I notice her blouse. Nylon, rayon or something like that. Shiny, silky, and see through, except for the two pockets strategically placed. Even so, with the number of buttons undone, I can make out the outlines of her ample, unbound breasts as the bounce and sway in time with her unsure steps.

I lean her against the car as I don't think she can stand on her own. I brush off her pants, skin tight hip-huggers that accentuate the flare of her hips and the curves of her tight rear end.

I seat belt her in, but by the time I run around the car and slide in behind the wheel, she has it off and moves over tight against my side. I wrap my arm around her shoulder as I take off. She leans her head against me and is sound asleep by the time I reach the place I had turned around to go back.

Her dreams must have been good. She keeps burrowing into my side in a vain attempt to get closer and moaning. Deep, animalistic, guttural moans are interspersed in the low, soft, hypnotic sound of her breathing. Somehow, her hand materializes on my lap. The quickness of her nimble fingers in finding my manhood through my pants makes me question if she is truly asleep.

I ask, "Are you awake?" Her only response is a soft moan perfectly in tempo with her breathing, and, she starts tracing the outline of my growing problem with her hand. She also snuggles a little closer, if that is possible, as I continue to stroke her shoulder and upper arm.

After a while, I reach a point where I can't take her ministrations any more. I think about waking her up and making her stop or waking her up and having my way with her even though she is extremely drunk. I debate back and forth on what to do, but whatever the solution is, I have to do it now.

The car bounces as we pass over a rough transition from an overpass. She sits up and stares at me. "Rho red," she slurs out. The drunken drawl is so bad I can barely make out what she says, and I know my interpretation is wrong because it doesn't make any sense, at least for the moment.

She moves, quick as a cat, as she pounces. Her hands attack my pants, unfastening them in a blur, pulling my manhood out and swallowing all nine inches before I have a chance to ask, "What are you doing?"

I am relieved though and extremely excited. She has taken the next step, the one I was reluctant to take with her because she is so drunk.

The rumble strip on the edge of the road brings me back to reality. So mesmerized am I as I watch her head bob up and down, illuminated by the low light from the dashboard. I concentrate on staying on the road, striving to resist the urge to watch this beautiful girl deep throat me over and over.

I run my hand through her soft, honey blonde hair and down her back. She reaches back, fumbling for my hand. Grasping it, she guides it to her firm breast. I respond by kneading and massaging the orb, much larger than my hand.

I feel her nipples rise against my palm. I slide my hand so that I take it between my thumb and forefinger and twist. She moans. It is enough to drive me over the edge and explode. She swallows me again and I unload down her throat.

Finishing, she bounces up on to her knees, her head brushes the headliner. Licking her lips, she fumbles with the buttons on her blouse. It is hard to imagine this is the same girl that had no problem with my fly. Unsteadily, she sways back and forth until her frustration overwhelms her patience. Tearing open the blouse, I hear at least one button bounce off the dashboard as I stare at her magnificent chest, breasts about the size of half a cantaloupe and just as firm, crowned by large nipples, their hardness staring me down.

I pull my eyes from her to check the road, and she lies back down on her side. Her head is in my lap again. She grabs my hand and pulls it to her. I feel her heart beating, strong and fast, as I try, unsuccessfully, to envelop her ripeness with my palm. Her nipple grows harder and protrudes between my gasping fingers.

I realize that my pants are still undone and I am hanging out when she flicks the end of her tongue across the tip of my newly rising tool. She engulfs it again and I harden in the deep, damp recesses of her talented mouth. I have to pay more attention to driving now as traffic has increased with the brightening of the heavens.

I pull back one side of her shirt and tuck it behind her so I have a better view. With the increased light, I can make out the small triangle of white flesh that barely encircles her pink aerola. I can feel the heat radiating off her skin from too much sun. I look down at the blur of head as she works me again and am amazed that she can be that drunk and not get sick from the rapid movements.

The early morning traffic is heavy as I work my way home on the freeway. I slowed down after I picked up this sweet, young blonde and now have to hurry to make it home in time to do a quick turnaround before school. But, everything I try doesn't stop her or my response. I struggle to keep my eyes open and the car centered in the lane as I finally let go and pump more cream down her greedy throat.

She looks up at me and smiles as I brush my hand across her cheek. She bites for it and nibbles on my finger for a moment before closing her eyes and falling back to sleep.

Arriving home, I pull into the garage. Cafefully, I get out of the car, trying not to disturb her. I fix my pants before reaching in to pick her up. I cradle her as I carry her up to an unused bedroom. She squirms a little, wrapping her arms around my neck. I set her carefully on the bed. Pulling off her pants, I place them on the foot of the bed next to where I dumped her clutch purse. I stare at her for a moment, taking in the glorious sight. Debating with myself again, I finally adjust her blouse over what I long to nibble and suck on. I lean down and give her a chaste kiss on the forehead.

Fifteen minutes later, after a quick shower and a change of clothes, I roar up the driveway on my Harley on the way to school.