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Based on the positive feedback and emailed requests for more stories, I went back in time a bit to my younger days and will share a “prequel” story from several years back. This is the first of a two-part story. Like my other stories, don’t expect explicit sex in the first paragraph, I have to set the scene and paint the picture from my musty old memories.
It was snowing hard as I left Reno, and by the time I pulled my rig into the chain installation area, I knew I’d never make it all the way to Sacramento by 5pm. Putting on chains is my least favorite part of the job, and it’s a pretty common task in winter months on this part of I-80. The snow was really coming down as the long lines of vehicles inched their way up the long winding climb. It took me all day in stop and go traffic at 5 mph traffic to reach Donner Summit, and it was already getting dark.
My relief at making it to the top was quickly deflated by the lack of any more spaces in the truck parking area at Boreal. The radio said the road was expected to close ahead, so rigs were lined up mirror-to-mirror in every available space. The CHP was already turning back some vehicles but I wasn’t about to U-turn and drive back down a slippery mountain I had just spent 5 hours climbing. I got out and went over to the flashing CHP cruiser that was blocking the passing lane ahead and asked if I could get in the slow line of vehicles still heading west.
The cop rolled down his window and shouted back at me “We’re holding everybody at Highway 89 now, we’re not letting anyone else up the hill. We’re turning around the trucks as they get up here but we’re still letting some 4-WD SUVs through, and I’m not sure how much longer we’re gonna do that.”
I pleaded with him to let me try to get to the brake check area a couple of miles ahead and he finally relented. I kept it slow – 10 – 15 mph in low gear all the way, but the 4-Wheel Drive SUVs whizzed on by me and drove out of sight at 55 or 60 as if the road was dry. Fools, I thought. Soon, I noticed no more cars were behind me and none was visible ahead. I had the road to myself. On the radio I heard the Interstate was now closed and even the recently-plowed right lane had collected two inches of fresh snow and the blizzard winds made visibility drop even further. I was glad to see the sign: Brake Check Area 1 mile.
It was pitch dark when I pulled off and parked. With headlights off, and all my marker lights on, I bundled up in my winter jacket, and stepped outside for a quick piss. It was dark and no one was in sight so I stood near the bumper of my rig and made some yellow snow. I was just zipping up when I noticed the soft reddish glow emanating from a snowbank about ¼ mile head. It took me a second to realize it was car taillights and I began hustling up there as fast as I could in my dry-weather work shoes.
Only the rear hatchback and bumper were visible, and even that part had a heavy coating of fresh snow. The rest of the white Subaru was buried so deep in that six-foot-tall snowbank, I couldn’t approach the driver’s door. I wiped then knocked on the fogged-up rear window.
“Help! Help Us” a woman screamed back.
I shouted: “Are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, We’re okay, — just cold and shaken up a bit.”
“Wait there lady,” I shouted as I began to try to dig my way forward with nothing but my ungloved hands. It was hopeless, so I knocked on the back window again.
“Pop open the hatch, you gotta climb out this way.”
I heard the pop and swung up the lift gate. A mom with two young kids were huddling in the front seat. I waved them toward me. “Climb over the seats!” I shouted.
The young kids were not dressed for a blizzard, so after I helped all three of them climb out the back, we rushed back to my rig. I carried the 3-year old girl and the lady took her son’s hand and slip-slided their way to my warm haven.
Once inside the cab the kids piled in their mom’s lap on the passenger side seat and huddled for warmth as the roaring heater began chasing off the cold air and bringing the temp back up to a toasty 75. I rubbed together my frozen hands in front of the blower outlet.
“Thank you so much, you saved our lives,” the mom sobbed. Her eyes were moist with emotion. “We would have died out there. After the engine died, it got so cold….”
“No problem, ma’am. I got plenty of diesel so it’ll be nice and warm. There’s a sleeping area in back there. You can set up the kids back there for the night and we’ll get you some help and a tow truck in the morning.”
This time she actually cried openly and thanked me again. I’m Chloe. This is Randy, she’s gonna be three next week, and this is Ronnie, he’s four.”
“Four and a half!” the kid interrupted. “What’s this, mister?” he asked, pointing at the gear shift lever. I pointed out the levers and dials until he got overwhelmed with too much adult info and climbed back up on his mom’s lap. Little Randy sat there, looking sleepy and sucking her thumb.
We talked awhile. They’d driven up from Salt Lake City, returning bahis firmaları from a visit with relatives. The roads had been clear until she passed Winnemucca. The pavement got slick and slippery after the first few inches of snowfall, and she had almost decided to stay overnight at a motel in Reno. Now she wished she had. But money was tight and she felt like she was almost all the way home — she lived just another 10 or 15 miles farther up the highway in Kingvale. She cursed herself for pressing on and ending up in a snowbank, but was glad to be alive. She said it had been a tough year with the divorce and all, and it was tough making ends meet as a single mom. Her deadbeat ex rarely sent the child support on time.
I looked at her pretty face and the beautiful children and wondered how any man could walk away from them. Chloe looked to be about 30 with a thin build (as best I could see under her winter jacket and the two children on her lap). Her short pulled-back hair and eyeglasses made her look doughtier than her pretty face deserved. Her facial features were so fine and delicate, she could have been a beauty queen or cheerleader.
The little girl seemed tired, so Chloe and I squeezed around in the cramped cab and eventually got the kids settled down on my sleeping couch in the back. The kids complained they had to share the small space, and their mom had to tell her son to settle down a few times, but eventually there was a welcome silence and peace of sleeping children. Chloe and I leaned back the seatbacks and chatted some more. It was 10pm and I was tired but Chloe seemed to get a second wind and needed to “talk off” her nervous energy. I got a detailed account of how she had slid off the road, and then a detailed account of her life – the ex, the divorce, the happy days before the divorce, the birth of the kids, etc. By 1 am, she was tired and we both reclined as much as we could and tried to get some sleep.
Around 4 am, a passing snowplow woke me up. Chloe too.
“Good sign,” I said quietly. “Maybe they’ll be able to get ahead of it and clear a path so we can get out of here in the morning.”
“I hope so. I want to get home and get a shower and some sleep. I’m exhausted.”
“You didn’t sleep?” I asked her.
“Not much. A cat nap. Too upset, I think. But you did. You snore.”
I laughed and spent the next few hours listening to her rattle on about her life, her dreams of starting a new one in San Francisco, and getting established in a new place before the kids started kindergarten. I didn’t mind listening, and she answered every one of my follow-up questions with lots of intimate information.
I dozed off for an hour and woke up at 7 at first light as some snowplows drove by with their snow chains jingling like a Christmas sleigh. Chloe was already awake and staring out at the lightly-falling snow.
“Looks like it’s letting up a bit. Maybe we can get a tow-truck up here and pull your car out, and we can all get on our way,” I said optimistically.
“I doubt it, I called on my cell phone before the battery died – you don’t have a charger for a Nokia, do you? I didn’t think so. Anyway, they said last night they doubted they could get a tow truck up her until late this afternoon, if then. Plus, I doubt it’s driveable. The airbags deployed and the hood is crumbled pretty good. The engine wouldn’t run. I smelled that fluid smell so I think the radiator is gone.”
“Yeah, probably. Good thing you had the kids in their car seats,” I said, trying to make her feel better.
“That’s the important thing. But, what do I do now?”
I flipped on the radio and we both listened closely to the weather and traffic updates. Everything was closed down and more blizzard conditions were expected for the afternoon and early evening. No let up was expected until the following day.
“You said you live in Kingvale, right? That’s not that far. I’ve seen snowplows go by and it looks like one lane is open. Maybe if we go real slow we can get you and your kiddies to the Kingvale exit.”
“Oh that’d be great. We could walk from the exit. I live on Donner Pass Road just west of town – if you can call it a town – less than a mile from the highway. We could walk it. Oh, that would be so great if you could.”
I told her I had some granola bars and other snacks in one of the cabinets in back and the four of us had a quick, makeshift breakfast of sorts before slowly pulling back onto the road. It had snowed enough since the last plowing, that it was hard to see where the lanes were. But the guardrails gave me the ability to approximate, and at 5 mph, not much can go wrong. Chloe let out a “Yeah!” when she saw the 1 mile exit sign ahead.
As I approached the Kingvale exit, all I could see through the blowing snow were flashing lights of cop cars, tow trucks, and other highway and emergency vehicles. I crept up and could see they had the road closed off ahead. A truck had jackknifed. A cop waved me onto the exit ramp and had me stop. I rolled down my window.
“Didn’t think anybody would be coming this way. kaçak iddaa We held all traffic at Donner. Where you coming from?” the cop shouted up to me.
“We were at the brake check area back there. This lady’s car went off the road and it’s buried in a snowbank. She lives just up the road a ways. I’m driving her home.”
“Okay, be careful. The side roads aren’t plowed.”
I inched onto Donner Pass Road, looking for a safe place to pull over, but snowbanks limited my choices, so I kept driving.
“Where’s your house?”
“About a mile up ahead. There’s a convenience store just before it. Maybe you can pull in and turn around in the lot. We can walk from there.”
But when I pulled into the unplowed parking lot, I knew it was a mistake. I had gotten them close to home, but now I was stuck and going nowhere anytime soon.
She looked at me sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I can wait it out. I’m always prepared for this kind of weather. I’ll be fine, but are you okay walking home in this snow? None of you have boots or winter clothes on.
“We’re fine. It’s right up there. You can almost see it. The yellow building up there?”
She gathered up her kids and all their things, and thanked me profusely, then suddenly paused. “We can’t leave you here by yourself. Walk up with us. I’ll make you some coffee. Might as well wait it out in the house than here. You can nap on the couch, take a shower, and let me make you a nice home-cooked meal. It’s the least I can do.”
The little two-bedroom cottage was modest, not much bigger than an RV trailer. The kitchen was tiny and the living room had a couch and a TV and not much else. The furnishings looked old and worn but the place looked and smelled clean. The hot shower felt good and the soft towels luxurious, but I hated to put my same clothes back on. I had more clothes in the truck but didn’t want to go out in the snow.
The food was good, the couch was comfortable, but the TV in that rural mountainous part of the state got poor reception, so the kids played and Chloe and I passed the afternoon chatting. I saw her look at my hand and notice my wedding band. She asked about my life and I filled her in.
After a nice dinner and some boring kid’s TV on the only channel that came in good, Chloe put the kids to bed. Then, she collapsed into the opposite end of the couch and we talked about whether I thought her car could be repaired or if she would have to buy a new one. That led to a talk about money (the lack of it) and the loneliness of mountaintop rural living. That led to an intimate discussion about our absentee sex lives, and ended with the two of us staring silently at one another for several long awkward moments.
I wanted to make a move on her so bad, but I didn’t know how and didn’t dare. Finally, I suggested that she looked cold, and invited her to come over closer and snuggle up against me. She didn’t hesitate and lay her head against my upper chest and I wrapped my arm around her back.
I rubbed gently and lovingly. I could feel every hard bump of each vertebrae and could’ve counted her ribs. All we would have needed was a roaring fire, but no. We talked softly, and I told her how nice she felt – how nice it was to hold a woman in my arms again – that it had been a long time. She said “me too,” and cuddled closer and hugged me a bit tighter.
“You smell nice. Like my soap,” she said softly.
“It’s kind of flowery and girly smelling isn’t it?”
“I like it,” she said.
“You would. It’s yours. But it’s not very manly.”
“Yeah.” She chuckled softly. “You’re a good man, Joe. A really good man. A great listener. And my hero. You saved our lives.”
I was about to protest and get all humble and what not, but instead I lifted her chin and looked into her beautiful eyes. I leaned down and kissed her. Happily, she kissed back.
Soon, we were making out like a pair of horny teenagers on her couch. We exchanged deep tongue kisses, and my hand wandered over her breasts. I kissed her neck and slid my hand under her t-shirt and gently groped her tits over the top of her thin sports bra. The stretchy fabric pinned and flattened her breasts against her chest, but the stiff pencil eraser bumps of her nipples told me she was aroused by what we were doing.
Several minutes later, after we kissed some more I slid my hand inside the sports bra, and I ran my fingertips over the soft skin of her tit. She stopped me, took me by the hand and stood up.
“C’mon,” was all she said. She led me to the bedroom, tiptoeing past the children’s room whose door was slightly ajar.
She closed her bedroom door behind us and I sat on the bed while she rummaged through a drawer, finally saying ‘aha’ and pulling out a foil-wrapped condom. She lay the rubber on the nightstand, and then took off her eyeglasses and put them on the nightstand too. She turned and began peeling off her T-shirt. I pulled my own off so fast, I had mine off first. The I rapidly pulled off my white, sleeveless A-shirt and unbuckled my pants. I stripped down to my kaçak bahis skivvies but without ever taking my eyes off the amazing sight of that lovely young woman slowly and gradually revealing her body to me in the dim light of her tiny bedroom.
Wearing only her sports bra and bikini panties, she looked amazing. Tall, lean, and athletic. Flat abdomen, decent-sized breasts, and the broad ass and wide hips characteristic of someone who had birthed two babies.
I was a bit ashamed to display my soft middle-aged body by comparison. I used to be in pretty good shape — when I was ten years younger. Now, at 38, I had a bit of a beer belly, pale white skin that hadn’t seen suntan lotion in a few years, and a receding hairline with slight patches of silver at the temples making me look prematurely gray.
She climbed on the bed and lay on her back. Then she reached over and handed me the condom.
“I’ve only got one of these. Better make it count.”
I planned to. I sure as hell planned to.
I slid my skivvies off my feet and lay down next to her. My erection was already full and aching. I turned to her and began kissing her gently. Mouth. neck, ear lobes, mouth again, chin, and then slowly and gently kissed my way all around her beautiful face – her nose, eyelids, forehead, cheeks and chin, and ending once again back at her responsive lips. As we tongue-kissed, my hand swept down to her breast and massaged it through the thin stretchy fabric of her sports bra. My hand slid under it and groped as our tongues intertwined. To get at the nipple, I pushed the bra upward and out of the way, but the stretchy material kept sliding back. Chloe sat up, and pulled it off and lay back down.
My kisses started again at her neck and slowly, inch by inch made their way down her upper chest to those little brown nubs sitting erect and ready on her sweet mounds. I sucked each one into my mouth as she laid her head back, closed her eyes and sighed lightly with each tug. For twenty minutes, I sucked, gnawed, massaged, swirled, bit, tugged, and licked her nipples while she smiled and relished the gentleness of my touch. I made love to her sweet tits as if they were the only part of her body I’d ever be allowed to enjoy.
But then it was time to move lower. My fingertips made the trek first, leaving the wonderful nipples and tracing a light trail over her rib cage, down onto her belly, and swirling tight soft circles around her navel. I continued to kiss her breast while my hand inched lower, floating and barely grazing the skin as it moved. My fingers climbed the slight mound of her pubis and rode down into a mat of close-trimmed hair that only partially hid the luscious pussy lips I was headed for. As my finger brushed the top of the groove, I felt her legs widen apart to give me better access.
My finger slid between the soft slot between her swollen outer lips, swiping the dewy moisture between them. My fingertip found her clit – engorged, hard and sensitive. She shuddered when I grazed it. I sucked a breast into my mouth and slowly and lightly slid my teeth along the stretched nipple as it slipped back out of my lips. My finger toyed with her clit and she let out the first of many deep moans.
Finally, almost reluctantly, my tongue abandoned her sweet breasts and began a southward trek, following the same path my fingers had forged several minutes earlier. She moaned when I licked circles around her navel and sucked in a deep breath when my tongue crossed over her mound and entered the triangle of short pubic hair.
By the time my tongue reached its tiny target, her body was arched off the bed, elevating her hips slightly to meet my feather-light kisses. I crawled into the wide V-shaped space between her splayed legs. Starting at the inner knees I kissed my way up her inner thighs, first one leg, then the other. Then, I scooped my arms under each leg and lifted her thighs over my shoulders so my face was inches from her musky-smelling pussy.
I approached slowly to tease her. My thumbs pulled her cunt lips apart slightly, revealing her pink button and inner folds. A quick flick of my tongue made her body shake. More quick licks and she trembled and moaned softly with each one. I teased her with slightly stronger and faster licks, until I finally clamped my lips down on it and sucked the tiny hardness into the front of my mouth. I licked and licked as her moans grew. Her womanly scent and wet juices emanated from inside her as I kissed and licked her. I built her up slowly, then, when her head began thrashing from side to side, teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut, I gave it to her. I slid my long finger up into her vagina at the same time I was flicking the tip of my tongue just under the top of her engorged clit. Her body arced 6 inches off the bed and her pussy mashed itself into my face. A muted scream escaped her lips. She shuddered and shook as if someone was trying to wake her from a deep sleep. A loud exhale, a deep moan, and then she arched again when my tongue brushed her clit again, another muted cry, and a collapse. For the next 15 seconds I licked her through her orgasm until she finally collapsed for good and groaned in a way that indicated she was done and could take no more. She lay there, chest heaving, moaning and exhaling loudly.
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