As I drove along the lonely stretch of route 152 somewhere west of Cordell, Oklahoma, I noticed a new peculiar sound coming from my car. New sounds are always a concern when you drive a vehicle that is well past its prime. A few miles later things got worse. The glow of the bright red idiot warning light filled the dashboard instrument panel. I knew from previous sad experiences that by the time those lights came on the situation was usually past the warning stage. I drove on hoping to make it to the next small town before the car gave out. I did not relish the idea of being stranded on the side of that quiet nearly deserted back road somewhere between 'nowheresville' and 'you-can't-get-there-from-heresville'.
As I pushed on, I reflected on how I had come to be in my current predicament. The last couple years had been a string of disasters. Starting with my divorce right through losing my job. Seven long months of unemployment had left me heavily in debt and depressed. Finally things were looking up! I had landed a good job in New Mexico. Prior to this trip, I had only spent a brief time on vacation in the Southwest. Having spent my entire adult life climbing the ladder of success in the great cities of the American Northeast, I knew little of life in the beautiful yet daunting landscape of New Mexico. I knew this move was exactly what I needed, a whole new life, a new environment and new friends and associates, a place where I could bury my past and begin to enjoy a new life.
So, I put the relocation allowance money in the bank to keep my creditors at bay a few more weeks, loaded the few things I could not live without into my old clunker and hit the road. Everything I had of monetary value remained in my old house with my ex-wife. Neither her nor my two daughters had much use for anything other then my checkbook, so my moving across the continent was of little concern to them.
I had a couple weeks before I was due at the new job, so I choose to avoid the interstates. I hated those boring high-speed trips and besides I was not sure my car could handle a 2000-mile high-speed cross-country run. I stuck to the mostly forgotten US Highways and state roads that provide a bucolic trip, albeit at a slower pace. The time to reflect and regroup was doing me a great deal of good.
A loud bang and sudden spewing of smoke from under my hood startled me from my reflections on life. My car was now struggling and lurching along the road. The noise was beginning to sound like a death rattle. To my relief I passed a sign announcing that there was a service station and dinner two miles ahead. As I coaxed the dying machine along, I hoped to find the facility opened and not boarded up and abandoned like so many small roadside establishments. I managed to get the car to limp almost the whole two miles. It died a few feet from Billy's Garage and Gas. Billy and his son helped me push my piece-of-shit the rest of the way.
Billy didn't look too confident my old car was ever going to leave Oklahoma. Looking Around, I could see that it wouldn't be the first car that had been left at Billy's. The lot out back was littered with once proud machines rusting in the Oklahoma sun. Well setting sun was more like it. It was nearly evening and Billy promised that he would take a look at the car first thing in the morning. I thanked him and walked to the curb. I looked up and down the empty road wondering what I could find to do until Billy either fixed my car or pronounced it deceased. There were a couple dozen or so buildings grouped together in what I guess one could call a town. Several of them were boarded up and falling down, victims of the Interstate. Most were private homes that had seen much better days. The only other commercial establishment still in business in the town sat across the road from Billy's.
Sal's Sooner Café had clearly seen better days. The half lit neon sign promised both 'good eats' and 'home cooking.' I expected neither as I slowly made my way across the road. Wasn't like I had my choice of fine restaurants. Out back of the diner I could see a row of rather ramshackle cabins that made the Bate's Motel look like the Ritz. I closed my eyes and imagined a bright well-kept landscape with new tourist cabins ringing the charming country diner. The lot was filled with shiny 1950's era automobiles and the air rang with the happy sounds of family's on summer vacations. Returning to the here and now, I sighed aloud as I realized that either one of the dilapidated cabin's or the back seat of one of Billy's junkers would be my room for the night. My own back seat could scarcely accommodate a small child as it was crammed full of the accumulated possessions of my life.
I stepped through the front door of the diner and immediately felt a warmth that was surprising given the appearance of the exterior of Sal's. The small cozy dining room was sparklingly clean. It was obviously recently painted in bright cheery colors. Real watercolor paintings hung on the walls. Each of the tables was covered with a hand-stitched flowered tablecloth. They were all set as if waiting for the evening rush, which no doubt would never come. Except for an elderly couple sitting in a booth, the place was deserted. I surmised that they were residents of one of the nearby houses as there were no cars in Sal's lot.
The gentlemen looked up and smiled at me, "The girl will be back in a minute, mister. She went to fetch something from the cellar."
I thanked him and took a seat at the counter that ran along the back o the dinning room. I felt a chill of sadness as I thought of the fate of Sal's and all the other businesses like it. Here in this bright cheery room thousands of people had once enjoyed good wholesome food at reasonable fair prices. Now it sat like the last dinosaur, perhaps staving off extinction only through the love of its owner. Certainly, only the meagerest of incomes could be made from the small flow of traffic that passed by these days. Sal's was a victim of the march of progress. It was another part of the terrible price we were paying for the false pleasures of the fast paced world we created.
Just as my melancholy thoughts of things remembered and lost were going to cause tears to run down my cheeks, the kitchen door swung open. I assumed the thirty-something woman that burst through it was the girl the man at the booth had mentioned. She wore a waitress uniform the likes of which I hadn't seen since I was a kid and my dad took me for a burger and a shake at the Woolworth's lunch counter. It was powder blue with a crisp, neat, starched, white apron, the cleanliness of which suggested she had not served many patrons that day. The buttons of the blouse portion of the uniform seemed strained to their limit holding in her more then ample breasts. A brief picture flashed in my head of them popping and her large tits falling out before me in all their glory. I snapped out of my daydream when she spoke.
"I am sorry hun, had no idea you were here. We don't get many travelers in this time of year!"
Her smile was somehow intoxicating. I felt genuine warmth and an incredible sensuality radiate from her. The true beauty of her flaming tresses was hidden by the hairnet that held it piled on her head. I explained about my car and inquired about the availability of the cabins out back.
"Now, hun, let's get some food in you. We can figure out where you gonna sleep shortly," she said in reply as she filled my coffee cup and handed me a menu.
I just smiled at her and began to peruse the menu. I had no idea how to respond to the sleeping arrangement comment. Nor, did I have the heart to tell her I didn't drink coffee after seeing her sweet smile. She hurried over to the couple in the corner leaving me alone with the menu an unwanted cup of coffee. The waitress' infectious laughter caused me to turn toward the corner table. The old gentleman was clearly flirting with the much younger woman. The look on his wife's face almost screamed, 'you old fool!' The man paid no attention to his wife and went right on flirting. The waitress acted as if she genuinely enjoyed the old timers advances. If not for the old woman, an on-looker could easily imagine the waitress giving into the old guy's charm and giving him a thrill that he clearly had not had in many years.
Watching this exchange I saw clearly her unusual sweet sensual quality. She was not the type of woman that men would immediately fall to their knees over. However, she had a seductive, sexual quality that I could not quite put my finger on. Somehow, I knew she would be amazing in the bedroom or any other room if one could find the key to open her passions. I tried to push the thoughts of her naked body writhing under me away, before the twinge in my loins bore fruit and I found myself in an embarrassing condition. When she saw I was looking in her direction, she handed the couple their check and walked back toward the counter. Despite myself, I stared transfixed as she made her away across the small dining room.
"You ready to order, er is there something wrong with the coffee, sugar? You hardly touched it," she said in a tone that conveyed her concern as she came around the counter.
"Oh um, actually, I don't drink coffee, ma'am. Any chance you have a Pepsi back there somewhere?"
"Sorry hun, Pepsi coming up! Don't think I have ever known a man didn't drink coffee!"
She opened the antique cooler behind her and pulled out a Pepsi in a real glass bottle. I wondered how long it had been there waiting for me to show up to order it. She popped the top off the bottle and sat it in front of me along with a tall glass of ice. I smiled at her as I lifted the bottle to my lips. The cold glass felt familiar, like and old friend, against my lips. The syrupy, sweet, brown liquid burned as always as it flowed down my throat. As I returned the bottle to the counter, I realized the waitress was watching me as if studying me to see what the stranger in town was all about.
I also noticed for the first time the nametag that was pinned on her uniform just above her left breast. I supposed that her breasts had distracted me from noticing much of anything else earlier. I read the flowery script. Surprised to find such an exotically named woman in such a simple place. Her name was Jasmine and for a moment I was transmitted to a field of beautiful fragrant flowers. My dream was broken when the couple from the corner approached the counter to pay for their meal. She followed them to the door and said a warm good night. I heard the lock on the front door click and turned to see her flip the closed sign over.
"I am sorry, I am keeping you," I said sincerely.
"Oh, no, hun, please you need to eat and well I really don't have anything to do. Besides it is nice to have a handsome man's company for a change," she replied in a warm sexy voice.
Instead of returning to the service side of the counter, she sat on the stool next to me. As I turned my eyes seemed drawn to her breasts. From above the lace of her bra showed slightly above the crisp neat uniform. It seemed an unusually sexy under garment for a lady with no plans for the evening. Just one of many paradoxes this flower, Jasmine was presenting. Her bra pushed her large breasts up and together creating one of the most amazing cleavages I had ever seen up close. It was all I could do not to bend down and run my tongue through the erotic path between her gorgeous voluptuous breasts. Her nervous giggle told me my eyes had tarried a bit too long. I moved my gaze to her face and to my relief I was greeted with a smile instead of a scowl. I imagined that Jasmine was rather accustomed to men ogling her mammary glands like a hungry dog eyes the butcher shop window.
"So, Sweetie, what you going to have?" she asked as her leg brushed against mine.
The touch of her leg on mine combined with the lascivious thoughts I was having about sucking her incredible tits caused a familiar stirring in my jeans. It had been sometime since my sex life consisted of anything more then my own hand as a partner. Even this small touch from a woman felt fantastic in the lonely longing place I dwelled in that day. I had a good idea that images of Jasmine's tits rubbing over my body would be tonight's fantasy as I stroked myself to orgasm. I hoped that she had not noticed my condition as I squirmed a bit on the stool.
Instead of answering her question, I asked what she recommended. She told me that she had just made a fresh meatloaf and that was what she was planning for her dinner. I said that it sounded great but that I did not want to take her family's dinner. She giggled in her infectious and charming way.
"Oh, hun, been all alone here for a couple of years now since daddy passed. Not much prospects here bouts for a husband to make a family with. Sure back in school the boys flocked around. I even married one. But well, after he took all he could from momma and daddy he left town, must be almost ten years now," she said as she slid off the stool and head for the kitchen.
As I waited for Jasmine to return with my dinner, I reflected on the young woman's life and wondered why she had chosen to reveal so much to me. I hadn't a clue, but I had begun to realize that I was becoming more and more attracted to her. She exuded a special hidden sensuality. I just knew that under the exterior of this sweet, simple, country woman there was a wild sexual creature; a woman who if I was lucky enough to coax into my bed would fuck me until my cock screamed for mercy. I imagined her naked sitting upon me with my cock buried inside her hungry, steamy pussy. Her beautiful red hair no longer atop her head, but now flowing down the sides of her passion filled face. In my mind her large gorgeous tits were bouncing about freely as she rode me. Our impassioned erotic cries filled the room as our bodies joined together in an orgasm the force of which rivaled the eruption of Vesuvius!
The door to the kitchen swung open noisily, bringing me back to the little diner. My eyes snapped open and I jerked my hand out of my lap. My cock throbbed as it strained against the coarse fabric of my jeans. My heart was pounding in my chest, my breathing was ragged and beads of sweat ran down my forehead. My fantasy had taken me to the edge. I struggled to regain control of both my mind and body. Though I was clearly in a state of sexual arousal, Jasmine acted as if she saw nothing unusual.
"I am not usually so forward, hun, but, um well I was hoping you would join me at a table. It has been sometime since I shared a meal with a nice, sexy, handsome man," she said in a shy alluring tone.
I eagerly accepted her invitation and followed her to a table. I made sure to stay behind her so she would not see the bulge in my jeans. We sat in a booth and enjoyed the delicious home cooked meal. We talked and laughed and got to know each other. By the time the chocolate cake she served me for desert was finished two hours had passed as if it were five minutes. I asked again about the cabins out back. She said that it had been years since anything other then wild critters had slept in them cabins.
"Daddy, always talked about fixin'm up, maybe putting a sign on the interstate to get folks to come back. Hell, impossible dreams my daddy had, with that new Holiday Inn right next to the highway no one is going to drive all the way over here to sleep in an old cabin. No, this town is going to die. Few more years, I gonna be sitting here in the middle of nothing but a collection of rubble piles," she said sadly.
I reached over and wiped away the tear that ran down her cheek with my thumb. She touched the back of my hand and smiled.
"Daddy's room is empty! Don't see any reason you shouldn't sleep in it. Yeah, Momma and Daddy would like that! I remember when I was a little girl, they were always helping folks got stranded. They said that is was a good person's duty to help others. Oh, guess I better call Uncle Billy though. He might be thinking you drug me into the back and took advantage of me or sumptin."
Her sweet innocent laugh made me want to grab her and hug her and kiss her. Somehow I managed to control my urges. Even though the idea of Billy bursting in the diner with guns blazing to save his niece from the ravages of the city fellow worried me a bit, I had to laugh. Jasmine had said that entire statement in one breath like an excited child trying to get her idea out before it went away. I was beginning to think the alluring Miss Jasmine was having some ideas of her own involving the two of us.
I protested that I did not want to be and trouble and could just sleep in my car. She assured me it would be a joy to have a man back in the house to care for, even if only for a night. For a moment my lewd thoughts disappeared as I wondered if Jasmine was thinking of me more in a fatherly mode. After all at 48 I was probably 15 years her senior. I glanced at my reflection in the chrome of the old-style table jukebox. I quickly decided that I did not look old enough to be her father. I also became determined to find a way not to be sleeping alone in her daddy's bed tonight.
It had been a long time since I had had a sexual adventure. Since before I met my wife. There was certainly never anything sexually adventurous about her. Our lovemaking had been hot enough while dating and through the early years of marriage although fairly vanilla in nature. However, after a few years sex seemed to become just another household chore for my wife to endure. One I paid dearly for when it was performed. What made it all the more amazing in retrospect was when three weeks after I left the house she took up with some 25-year-old stud. Then the final kick came when I stopped by the house to pick up some of my stuff and accidentally walked in on her and her boy toy. She was on her knees writhing in ecstasy with his cock so deep in her throat I couldn't figure how she could breathe. I couldn't remember a time when I could get more than a little piece of mine sucked on and that always required begging. She didn't even stop when she realized I was standing in the doorway. At last the stud nodded to acknowledge my presence. Actually he looked like he wanted to pull his cock from her mouth and run away, but she had way too firm a grip on him. Instead I just slunk away. I went out and paid for a whore for the only time in my life that night. I closed my eyes and fucked that poor prostitute savagely. The whole time imagining it was my ex I was abusing.
While Jasmine finished her clean-up work, I hung around in the kitchen with her. We told each other more about our lives. I found her unusually easy to talk to and she was amazingly open about her life. By the time the dishes and kitchen where cleaned and ready for the next day, she knew more about me than my closest friends did. I also, knew a great deal more about her than I did about most people I knew. She told me about the night her soon to be husband deflowered her and about the man that she met after her husband split who she kicked out after two years of nightly passion and weekly beatings. I even told her about my wife and her young stud, although I left off the violent whore fucking part of the story. When the kitchen was ready for the next day's business, Jasmine removed her apron and dropped it in a laundry bag by the back door.
"Come on, let me show you where you will be sleeping," she said in a voice that convinced me I wasn't going to be sleeping alone tonight.
I followed her up the narrow staircase that lead from the diner to her apartment. It was all I could do not to reach out and grab her buttocks as they wiggled back and forth. As I was two steps below her I could see the tops of her nylons and the old fashion garters that held them securely to her thighs. I paused a second so she would be even higher above me and stole a glance of her most private region. I had expected a pair of sexy panties to match the lacey bra. To my surprise I was treated to a view of her smooth shaven pussy. I felt my cock jump in my pants as my mind immediately filled with a picture of me burying my face between her milky thighs and lustfully lapping at her sexual treats. All too soon we reached the top of the stairs and entered her cozy living room. When she turned toward me a rush of embarrassment flooded my senses. I hoped she did not glance down and see my obviously aroused condition. She did nothing to indicate having noticed my pants were suddenly tighter.