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From: proust@scsn.net (Marc Proust)
Subject: RP "My Brilliant Hitchhiker" {mf, cons, road)
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The following story is for mature (age-wise, anyway) audiences. If you are
under 18, please donıt read it. 

My Brilliant Hitchhiker
by Marc Proust
proust@scsn.net

I decided to drive. It was only six hours away and I needed time to gather
my thoughts together. My topic was ³Lust and Poetry: Can Either Survive in
the Post-Industrial World?² It was a new paper, and the bugs werenıt fully
worked out, but I was excited about the question and eager to give the
paper. Prof. Tyson of Jacksonville University was a world-renown scholar
on such matters, and our meeting the next day was a source of much
anticipation on my part. 

I was nearly to Charleston when I saw her hitch-hiking. I was tired of
thinking already, and figured a bit of female companionship would help
pass the time. I had until 2:00 the next day, which was ample time to come
to grips with post-industrial society, at least that part that had eluded
me so far.

³Gee, thanks. I thought Iıd be there forever! How far are you going?² 

³Only to Jacksonville. Does that help?²

Well, it turned out it helped a lot since she was also going to
Jacksonville. She was about my age, perhaps a bit younger, no babe but
very pretty in a lost, waifish sort of way. In spite of her slightly
immature demeanor, however, it was clear from the start that she was no
dummy. She wore a simple cotton top and I saw, before the dome light
expired at the hands of its timer, that her breasts were not confined by a
bra. I love that. It is so rare these days. Lust began to get the upper
hand over poetry in my ruminations on the post-industrial world. 

³My nameıs Marc. Whatıs yours?² 

³My friends call me Dandy.²

³Now thereıs a name you donıt hear everyday. While I am prepared to
believe you are pretty dandy, I canıt imagine thatıs why your parents gave
their kid such a name.² You can tell Iım no smooth talker. If fact, for
some reason (and Iım not alone) I sound like a pedantic fool the minute I
encounter a beautiful woman. I really thought I was getting better.

³My middle name is DıAndrea and for as long as I can remember Iıve been
called Dandy. I think my dad started it. My first name is Laura, which I
donıt much like, so Iıve kind of gotten used to being Dandy.²

I asked how she came to be hitchhiking and she proceeded to tell me a long
story, most of which I have forgotten, involving a boy and a girl, another
girl, and a banjo. I didnıt believe a word of it, but it made me laugh,
and we had sailed past Charleston when she said, by way of conclusion to
her tale:

³I guess I get into trouble, because when I like a guy I just want to do
*anything* for him. They take advantage.²

Even I recognized that this was my cue. All thought of industry and poetry
was gone; only lust remained. My cock began itıs inevitable swell. The
beginning is the most electric: slow jolts penetrate the testicles and
tell the blood to quit what itıs doing (what *does* it usually do?) and
rush to the penis. I knew it sounded dumb, but the only thing I could
think of to do was to ask: ³Do you like me, Dandy?²

³Yes.² She said it submissively, and we were off to the races. Now, I had
read about such women, but no one I had ever been involved with had been
interested in such games. In fact, I have day-dreamed of dominating or
being dominated, but never really thought seriously about either. In the
next few seconds, however, I resolved to play my part as best I could. My
post-industrial world had just expanded.

³Dandy, touch your left breast with your right hand. It would make me
happy.² As I said this, we were gliding past Savannah. I love to drive at
night. It is so lonely and quiet; cars shy away from the dark. Not only
did Dandy follow my instruction, I noticed that she gently began to
massage her left breast, and squirmed, if ever so slightly, on the seat of
the car. My penis was swelling in earnest now, and I was really enjoying
getting in touch with my dominant side. It is good for all of us,
occasionally, to act like a macho asshole.

³Excellent!² I said. ³Now, Dandy, take your top off and show me your tits.
Itıs dark, and no one outside the car can see. Feel your nipples; pinch
them and pull them.² Although it was dark, I could easily make out Dandyıs
profile as she shed her white cotton shirt, and began to touch herself.
She started slowly, gently feeling her nipples, but it wasnıt long before
her intensity increased and the gentle touches gave way to slow, gripping
gropes. She was breathing hard, too. As oncoming cars passed us by, their
headlights allowed me to see how her nipples responded: they became
enormously firm, proud and disproportionate to the size of her lovely,
small breasts. Big nipples on small tits are nothing short of poetic: the
promise of happiness, some philosopher said in another context. I reached
over to feel them, to softly pull and pinch them myself, and elicited a
groan from the beautiful lady as she let me take over.

³God, you are a pretty slut.² I said. I didnıt usually talk this way to
women, but now I *had* to. ³Now, Dandy-slut, I want you to open my pants
and pull out my dick. Thatıs it. See how big it gets when it knows thereıs
a slut around. Now, suck it, cunt!² She sucked it all right. She was a
real artist: she knew exactly how to tease a man; she brought me to the
edge several times before hauling me back again, panting from the sweet
agony of unfulfilled sexual union. 

³Not bad.² I tried to be nonchalant, but I could tell she knew I was
impressed, very. ³But youıre not having any fun, are you slut? Listen, I
want you to take your pants and panties off, and sit Indian-style on the
seat.² She did. I should not have been surprised, but I was. This was
great! Then I said: ³Now, while you suck me, you have to play with your
cunt. Thatıs right, stick your fingers in that wet pussy. Smear your cunt
juice down your ass; rub it all over your pissy cunt. Thatıs right, slut,
I want you to get good and wet. Cunts are wet. Cunts are full of piss.
Cunts get big, and puffy, and rose-like when you touch them. They get wet
when you pee out of them. Your ass-hole gets wet when cuntish piss flows
down your crack.² I was damn near incoherent; thatıs how good she was. ³
Now, Dandy, I want you to suck me till I come. But, you have to come at
the same time.²

We hurtled down the highway pell-mell while I kept up this constant
chatter. Dandy was really getting into it; every time I mentioned her
cunt, she groaned with my enormously expanded cock in her mouth. Her lips
were silky on my penis, and she used her teeth in a way that, falling just
short of pain, felt exquisitely real as they raked their way up my swollen
shaft. Just when it was getting to be too much, she would stop and use her
tongue to retrace the tracks of the teeth to soothe and cool, and every so
often would turn her head from side to side as she emitted low, humming
noises. Here was a woman to be celebrated! A woman who knew full well that
not every male orgasm was the same; that those that are properly
constructed in time will provide physical and emotional side-effects that
are not only gratefully received, but long remembered.

³Dandy, Iım close! Youıd better be, too, you cunt!² I nearly screamed. By
the looks of it, she was. As she sucked me to perfection, I could tell
that she had two fingers up her pussy and was rubbing her clit furiously 
with the other. ³Yes. Yes.² I babbled on. ³ Iım going to come in your
mouth! O Yes, you slut!  Yes!²  And it *did* occur to me, as it must to
you, that while I was nominally in control, Dandy was calling all the
shots. I was as helpless and pitiful as newborn baby, responding to each
and every subtle manipulation of her great art and heart; yet she was
supposedly submitting to me. 

I began pumping ropes of white semen down Dandyıs throat, just as she let
out a muffled holler and jammed her legs together over her hand.
Perfection!  I had slowed the car in anticipation and was very glad that
it was so late at night; there were no other cars around and we floated on
through Georgia with only a slight tremor and swerve.

When I had settled down a bit, and regained my composure, I engaged her in
conversation. She asked why I was going to Jacksonville, I told her about
my paper and, to my utter delight, discovered that she had some
interesting and original ideas on poetic lust in the post-industrial
world. It never fails to impress me how total novices can sometimes cut
through layers of academic fat and get to the heart of the matter. Yes,
yes, it may have been a bit childish, her idea, but there was energy and
originality there that had eluded my colleagues. I made a mental note to
steal her idea for my talk the next day.

We got to Jacksonville late, very late, and Dandy insisted that I stay
with her, rather than the hotel room reserved for me by the university. Of
course, I agreed, and called the hotel to let them know I would not be
coming, and to ask them to please inform the Department, should they call,
that I would be there for my seminar at 2:00 the next day. Her apartment
was surprisingly elegant and cheery, and was located near the harbor in an
exclusive part of town. Books lined the walls, providing a decor that made
me feel right at home. We were both exhausted, and I fell asleep in
seconds, hardly thinking of post-industrial literature or sex. 

The next morning I awoke feeling great, bursting with ideas and eager to
give my talk. Dandy was in the shower, and as I waited for her I thought
about what a fantastic time we had had the night before. Before long, my
cock was hard again, and I gently played with it, stroking it softly,
rubbing the tip, and running my fingers slowly over my balls. I was
feeling downright languorous, sexy and romantic, not at all bossy like the
night before. 

³Good morning, Marc. Your turn. What a day!  I love it when it turns a bit
cool like this.² Dandy was looking lovely. As if by chance, her robe
drifted open as she swept around to sit by me, and I stole a glimpse of
her soft, small breasts, and her silky mound, sprinkled with its sparse
thatch of down. There was indeed a cool breeze blowing through the window
and it made her beautiful, too-large nipples stand stiff and puffy.

³And what is this!??!² 

She had turned back the covers, discovered my erect member, and was
expressing mock shock. Though she made moves to touch it, and even bent
over towards it so close that I could feel her hot breath on me as she
stared in feigned surprise, no contact was made. She left me twitching as
she stood up and embraced herself to secure the robe.

³You are absolutely filthy, Marc. Now get in the shower and we will
reevaluate the situation when you come back.²

She was right: I really was filthy and I made quick tracks to the bathroom
for a pee and shower. It is not unusual that I wake with a hard-on but
this morning was different and I waited longer than usual on the seat
before enough flacidity had returned to enable me to pee properly. Minutes
later, the heat of the shower put me in a state somewhere between extreme
sensuality and overpowering ennui: liquid, languorous, languid, fecund,
Rousseau, jungles, humid, post-industrial torpor, poetic licentiousness,
lusty, busty...

³On your knees you cur!! Get out of the fucking shower THIS MINUTE you
dog!! How dare you keep me waiting?!??!

I could have left. She wasnıt at all big. A waif, just like I said before.
But I didnıt. My lecture wasnıt for two hours, and the university wasnıt
far. Plus, was terribly curious how I would respond to being dominated. 

³Now come here, dog, and look at my cunt.² As she commanded me, she let
her own robe fall off, scooted her bottom to the edge of the bed, and
opened her legs to show me her beautiful pussy. ³Just look. Donıt touch!² 

Now, I love vaginas. Whenever I see one, I am thunderstruck anew. Hers was
delicate, like her frame, and the outer lips were small and rounded. While
I did not mind looking, as my cock swelled again, making me look indeed
like an obscene dog, it became harder and harder not to touch. Her cunt
meanwhile was changing, ripening, glistening, opening, and beginning to
emit that astonishing earthy aroma. As I looked, she closed her eyes.

³Lick my asshole. Donıt touch my cunt! You dogs are all alike. You like
ass, donıt you. Now lick!² 

I really donıt know who was calling the shots, but I did lick it. She
scootched her ass over the side of the bed a bit more, and I began to
gently caress the little rosebud with my tongue. What could be lewder?
This has always gotten me as hard as a skiff pole. My dick was twitching,
and I felt like a dog. Dandy, was in heat and began to moan. The juice
dripped from the cunt she refused to let me touch, and as it dripped it
fell across her tight little anus and on to my tongue. I swallowed
eagerly, a ran my tongue down her crack and to her back, to allow the
temperature around her asshole to cool, so I could slowly approach it
again. I teased her, but I did her bidding. She kept moving her bottom to
try to make contact. Contact. 

³Stop!² She screamed it, but I could tell there was laughter behind the
yelling and I could barely contain a bright smile of my own. Clearly,
neither one of us was really cut out for this domination stuff. ³Now stand
back, doggie, and watch a minute. Look at me now.² And as she said this,
she peeled back the engorged lips of her cunt to reveal what to me is as
breath-takingly gorgeous, in its own way, as Turner sunset. Fully visible
were the gaping void of her tunnel, the excited convexity of her clit, and
the tiny mini-slit- opening of her pee-hole, all glistening and fat and
very nearly available. ³Stop! Donıt touch!² She said. ³I mean it. Now look
at this...²

Picture this, reader. I was back on my haunches, dick swollen and pointing
straight up, poised between the action of animal lust and the pure visual
poetry of her shimmering, boiling cunt. We were suspended in time and I
thought we might be there forever when it finally happened. As I stared at
her, the little urinary hole above her tunnel began to change, acquire
great definition, pucker, open, and start to burble a pale liquid that
mingled imperceptibly with the viscous juice of her pussy. I had always
wanted to see a woman pee, but now it was simply too much. Oh, way too
much! It shattered my equilibrium, and put everything in motion at once. I
sprang to my feet, shoved her ass back on the bed, and plunged my cock up
her cunt. I vaguely remember her shouting something like ³FUCK ME, you
dog! FUCK ME NOW!!, but that may have been my imagination. I was beyond
words; there was only one thing to be done, and I was doing it: plunging,
ramming, pistoning (synonyms, I need synonyms!) nearly clubbing her with
my huge cock. I was only half-aware of the exquisite, immediate, soft,
womanly resistance of her cunt as I split the walls on the first thrust.
Mostly I just fucked her, and was completely oblivious to her desires. 

I really donıt know if Dandy had an orgasm or not that morning, but I sure
did. It didnıt take long, either, and I felt like I was exploding as the
white heat rose up from my depths and shot into her body. Judging by her
laughter, I think Dandy got just about what she was looking for, too, and
we lay there just holding each other for a long time, until I remembered
why I was there. 

³My God! My lecture!² Time was short now, and we dressed quickly, got in
the car and drove off to the university, where she let me out, said
good-bye and wished me well. ³I hope Dr. Tyson likes it², she said as she
closed the car door. How sweet of her! I was really sorry to see the last
of Dandy, but only ten minutes remained until I was due to speak and I was
feeling bad that I had so far completely ignored my hosts.

I soon found myself before the assembled group, but Dr. Tyson had not yet
arrived. Dr. Gordon asked me to wait, as the eminent professor was
expected any minute. Of course, I was happy to do so, and even
appreciative of the extra minutes to think about Post-Industrial Lust and
Poetry. 

All of a sudden, I froze. Into the room strode none other than Dandy!  I
thought: ³What the Hell is _she_ doing here?². But before I could even
begin to think of something awkward and stupid to say, I heard Dr. Gordon
intone: ³Ah, Dr. Tyson, at last! Laura come sit here so we can begin.²

---------The End--------------

Comments always welcome at proust@scsn.net. 
Marc Proust

-- 

Marc Proust
All comments are welcome and appreciated. Please respond to proust@scsn.net

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