Good Samaritan

by Ann Douglas

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Fiction, Interracial, Black Female, White Male, First, Oral Sex, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: It was just in Ryan's nature to help out when he spotted the broken down car. By morning he'd learned the benefits of being a good samaritan.

Dalia Collins pulled her red sweater a little tighter, trying to ward off the late night chill as she walked across the parking lot to where she had parked her car. Behind her, the lights of Mickey's Place, the 24-hour Truck Stop where she worked, still shone brightly, the tables still filled with customers. It had been an extremely busy night for the 49 year old waitress, made more so by the fact that one of the other waitresses had called in sick at the last minute.

"Yeah, I just bet Gabrielle's sick!" the dark skinned woman said to herself as she reached the edge of the parking lot. "Home in bed on a Friday night!"

As she turned the key to unlock the door of her ten year old Escort, she added more cynically, "If she's home in bed, I'd bet my paycheck she's not there alone."

And of course Gabrielle would get away with it, Dalia thought, as she dropped into the diver's seat. You can get away with wonders when you occasionally blow the boss.

That little tidbit was supposed to be somewhat of a secret. Dalia knew it only because she'd accidentally walked in on the two of them. It had been at the end of a shift one night last month. Dalia had been carrying a stack of dishes to put away in the back room when she saw them. The sight of the 28-year-old blond on her knees mouthing Mickey's cock was almost enough to make her drop her heavy burden. Thankfully, she managed to keep her balance and backed out of there before Mickey could realize she was there.

Unfortunately, Gabrielle had noticed. She didn't react immediately but approached Dalia just before quitting time. The older woman had resisted the temptation to ask her how to could bear to suck off a fat slob like Mickey. Instead, she just assured her co-worker that she wouldn't mention it to anyone.

Surprisingly enough, to Dalia at least, Gabrielle didn't seem concerned that anyone should find out she was servicing the boss. Instead, she actually had the audacity to proposition Dalia. Gabrielle said that she'd always had a thing for black women and thought Dalia was really sexy, especially for a woman her age.

Dalia had been shocked. Never in her life had another woman approached her. She'd been quick to assure Gabrielle that she had no interest in that direction. The younger woman had pouted in disappointment and told Dalia that if she ever changed her mind, the offer was always open.

"You don't know what you're missing." Gabrielle had whispered into her ear as she stepped out of the corner she had pressed Dalia into. To highlight her remark, she had run her fingers across Dalia's left breast as she passed. The touch was hard enough to be felt through both blouse and bra.

Gabrielle hadn't repeated the offer since that night, but Dalia made it a point to check the back storage rooms before she walked into them.

"Home for a hot shower and a warm bed." Dalia mused as she started up the car, letting thoughts of Gabrielle fade from her mind.

Somewhat more angry ones quickly replaced those thoughts as the engine turned over but failed to catch. Dalia waited a moment, then tried it a second and third time, both with equally disappointing results.

"Fucking great!" she cried aloud as she tried again one last time. "This piece of shit would pick tonight to die!"

She knew angry curses weren't going to be much help right now, but they did make her feel a little better. Only last month her son had told her when he visited that she really needed a new car. She'd promised him that she was in the process of shopping for one. And no, she didn't need any money from him to buy one.

Of course she'd been lying. If she'd had enough money for a new car, she would have certainly gotten rid of this piece of crap. Be that as it may, it wasn't going to help her right now.

Getting out of the car, Dalia opened the hood and looked at the engine. She had to suppress a laugh. Like she knew what she was looking for. Her son, Jack had tried to teach her some basic mechanics but they always seemed beyond her.

Looking back at the brightly lit Truck Stop, Dalia hated the thought of going back and asking Mickey's help. He hadn't been too happy when she'd told him she was too tired to stay a few more hours to help out with the still large crowd. Still she didn't have much choice. Her apartment was eighteen miles away and she wasn't about to hike down the Interstate.

"Need help?" a voice asked from only a few feet behind Dalia.

"Jesus!" Dalia yelled as she jumped at the sound of the voice and the sudden realization that someone was behind her.

"I didn't mean to startle you," a young man said as he stepped over to the front fender. "I saw you open the hood and thought you might need some help."

"I'm sorry to have yelled," Dalia said as she took in the blond haired young man. "I just didn't know you were behind me."

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, looking under the hood.

"I'm not sure," Dalia replied. "It doesn't want to start."

"I'm pretty good with cars, let me take a look." he said with a smile. "Do you have a flashlight?"

"I think so."

While he bent over the front bumper, Dalia reached back into the car and pulled the flashlight out of the glove compartment. She'd thought the young man looked familiar and was able to place him in the flashlight's glow.

She'd seen him in the restaurant, sitting in a booth with three of his friends. She hadn't given them much notice; they'd been sitting at one of Beverly's tables. Beverly was the other waitress on the 4-12 shift.

She remembered them because Beverly went out of her way to flirt with them. The 45-year-old redhead was always flirting with the students from the local college. There were times when Beverly insinuated that she did more than flirt with them, but Dalia was never sure if she was joking or not.

This young man stood five foot five and looked more like a high school than college student. With a slim build that made Dalia conscious of the extra pounds she was always trying to take off, he was definitely cute by any standard. He was wearing a blue T- shirt and jeans, topped by a green and white windbreaker.

"My names Ryan, by the way." he said as he poked around the engine.

"Dalia," was her response.

He spent a few minutes checking various connections, asking Dalia to follow his hands with the flashlight. He stopped at one connection and tested it a second time.

"I think this is it."

"Can you do anything with it?" Dalia asked. "At least enough to get me home?"

He grinned. "I'm gonna try."

A few moments later, another car pulled up in front of Dalia's. At the wheel was another of the students she had seen back at Mickey's.

"Hey Ryan, we're out of here," the black bearded young man called. "Are you coming or what?"

Ryan's head appeared. "Hang on a few, will you." I just need about 15 minutes, 20 tops to get this car going."

"What are you, triple A?"

"15 minutes. You're not going to die for 15 minutes, Billy." Ryan said as he leaned under the hood again.

"Ryan, we have to get going," Billy insisted as he looked over his shoulder toward the back seat. "You're going to mess this all up."

Just then, the headlights of a passing car illuminated the Billy's back seat. Squeezed in between the final two students from that booth, was Beverly. She was trying hard to be inconspicuous. Up to that moment she had succeeded.

She leaned forward from her hiding place and said something to Billy that Dalia couldn't make out.

"Last chance!" Billy yelled.

Ryan didn't respond, his mind on the engine in front of him.

"Your loss, man!" Billy yelled, hitting the gas. The car took off across the parking lot and passed out the exit toward the Interstate.

Little more than a minute later, Billy stood up and told Dalia to try it. In testament to his efforts, the old clunker coughed to life.

After waiting a few moments to see if the engine would stay running, Ryan looked around to see where his friends had gone.

"I'm afraid they left you here." Dalia remarked as she came back around to the front of the car, careful to leave the motor running.

"Damn," Ryan muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry," she sympathized. "I feel responsible."

"It's okay," Ryan said, wiping his hands on a rag. "I couldn't leave you stranded here."

"And you are a dear for thinking that way." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

He just smiled in return.

Dalia ran a hand through her short curly hair. "Maybe we'd better get going before this hunk of junk decides to die again."

"We... ?" he repeated in surprise.

"Of course," Dalia smiled. "You don't think I'm going to leave you stranded here now, do you?"

"You don't have to," Ryan said. "I can grab the bus back to school just down the road. It should be along in about a half hour or so."

"Just get in the car..." she insisted.

After a brief hesitation, Ryan did just that.

As they exited the parking lot and started for the Interstate, they exchanged idle chatter. Dalia talked a little about her job and Ryan told her about life at school.

"I don't think it was very nice for your friends to take off and leave you like that." Dalia said as they headed east.

"Well, they're not really my friends. Just some guys from my dorm."

"Still it was a lousy thing to do." Dalia said as she turned onto an off ramp.

"I guess so." Ryan finally agreed.

"So where were you coming from that you wound up at Mickey's?" Dalia asked.

"From the dorms."

"I know that," Dalia laughed. "I meant in between Mickey's and the dorm."

"Nowhere," the young man said. "We only came to the truck stop."

"What ever for?" Dalia said, a touch of puzzlement in her voice. "You certainly weren't there for the food!"

With that, Ryan's light complexion turned absolutely pale. Then it turned bright red with embarrassment.

"I'd r-rather not say." he stammered out.

"Oh come on," Dalia laughed. "You'll have me thinking you came all the way down there just to meet Beverly."

Dead silence filled the air. The older woman realized they come to the restaurant for just that reason.

"Oh my, how did that come about?" she asked, her curiosity fired.

The young man didn't seem to want to answer, Dalia thought more from embarrassment than anything else. A curiosity consumed her.

"Well if it's really a problem," she said, trying the reverse physiology she had practiced on her kids. "then we'll just change the subject."

"It's not a problem." Ryan finally answered.

"Bingo!" she exclaimed, smiling in satisfaction.

"It was mostly Billy's doing." Ryan began.

"Billy being the bearded young man who took off without you?"

"Yeah, that was him."

"Go on." the woman encouraged as she looked out to check the street signs.

"Well, anyway, like I said, it was mostly Billy's idea. He said he'd met Beverly last month and decided to call her up and get something together again."

Dalia translated that to mean that they'd met either at the diner or a bar and Billy had fucked what little there was of Beverly's brains out.

"When he talked to her this afternoon, she said she'd love to get together but insisted that he bring along a couple of friends to make the night more memorable."

In other words, Dalia thought, Beverly was all hot and horny and in the mood for a gang bang.

As they neared the small apartment complex where Dalia lived, Ryan continued. "Originally Billy had asked Steve Wilson, Teddy Kenny and Carl Burke to go. Then Steve had an emergency and couldn't go. Billy figured that if he showed up with less than three more guys Beverly might lose her interest."

"Not likely," Dalia thought as they headed around to the parking lot. "Three young and hard cocks were still three young hard cocks." She couldn't imagine Bev passing them up.

"By that time, most of the dorm was already empty." Ryan concluded. "So when Billy found me in the lounge studying, he insisted I come along."

"If they really aren't your friends, then why did you go along?" she asked as they pulled into a parking spot.

"Well Billy and Teddy said that any guy who'd pass up a chance like this had to be either gay or a virgin." The young man said somewhat embarrassed.

"Neither of those is in and of itself necessarily fatal." Dalia observed, turning off the car.

"Where are we?" he asked, looking out the window at unfamiliar surroundings.

"My place," She stepped out of the car. "I don't have enough faith in this piece of crap to make it up to the college and back. I'll call you a cab from here to get you the rest of the way."

"You don't have to." he insisted as he stepped out of the car. "I can make it back there on my own."

"The nearest bus stop is a mile and a half down the road," The dark skinned woman stated with an authoritarian tone. "There's no way that I'm going to let you walk, or worse hitch your way down there."

Ryan finally gave up and followed her up to the second floor apartment.

"Be it ever such a hovel," Dalia laughed as she opened the door wide and motioned for Ryan to precede her inside. "There's no place like home."

Actually, small as the apartment was, it was pretty nice. It could use some cleaning, but then again so could Ryan's dorm room. When you lived by yourself, it was sometimes too easy to let things pile up.

"Can I get you something to drink," Dalia asked as she tossed her sweater over the edge of the couch. "Soda, juice, maybe a beer?"

"Soda would be fine," Ryan said as he took a look at the uniform Dalia had been wearing beneath the sweater.

The waitress outfit was identical to the one Beverly had been wearing: black with white trim. In Beverly's case however, the uniform had looked to be a size too small, her large breasts straining against the material. The woman standing in front of him had much smaller mounds, but the rich brown cleavage visible beneath the darker material was enough to make him blush when he realized he was staring at it.

Dalia didn't seem to notice, or care if she had, as she handled Ryan a glass of soda. She took a sip of her own then picked up the phone. The call was rather brief and she dropped the receiver back on its cradle.

"The cab should be here in about twenty minutes." she smiled, taking another sip of her drink. "Might as well relax until it gets here."

Ryan had diverted his attention to the rows of pictures that lined the apartment wall. He assumed they were Dalia's family. There were a series of photographs of a young man and women, both of whom bore a striking resemblance to his host. The girl gave him an idea of what the waitress had looked like when she was younger. Not that she wasn't still attractive, for a woman her age that is.

"My rogues gallery." she explained, moving next to Ryan. She stopped in front of a large family portrait. "That's Jack, my oldest." She pointed to the thirty-one year old on the far right. "His wife Alexandra, and his daughters Denise and Kathy. On the other end is my daughter, Jennifer. That's Ken, her significant other as they say, next to her."

Ryan looked hard at Dalia's oldest. There was something familiar about him. He knew he'd seen him somewhere before.

The mystery was solved a few moments later when he spotted another picture of a younger Jack at the end of the wall. In that photo he was wearing the gold and red colors of Ryan's college.

"Your son is Rocket Collins?" Ryan asked excitedly as recognition dawned.

"Well, he was called that once upon a time," Dalia admitted with more than a touch of pride. "But that was a very long time ago. I'm surprised you even recognized him."

"Are you kidding? When I was ten years old, my Dad took me to see him play. He was the best quarterback ever to play at State. How come he never turned pro?"

"A small leg injury his senior year." Dalia's eyes seeming to look into days past. "Nothing major, but an injury that could very well cause problems if he got hurt again. It was a risk he decided not to take."

"That must've been hard for him."

"Not as hard as you might think. Football was never more than a game to Jack. He had other aspirations. The sports scholarship was just a way to live those dreams."

"I guess so."

The teenager took a few moments to think about what Dalia had said. Then, his eyes still on the photo of the Football star, he said the most unexpected thing.

"I'm not gay."

"What?" Dalia said.

"What the guys said before about anyone who wouldn't go with them tonight," he explained. "I didn't want them to think that I'd never done it before."

"Honey, there's no crime in being a virgin." Dalia smiled. "We all start out that way. And believe me, being part of a gang bang isn't the way you want to remember losing it."

"I just wanted to be over it. I'm tired of worrying about it."

Dalia looked hard at Ryan. He was a good-looking kid, no doubt about it. Normally a nice young man like him should have no problem finding some sweet thing to share his bed. What he did seem to have was a serious self-confidence problem.

"May I make a suggestion?" she asked.

Ryan shrugged in reply.

"If you just want to spend the night with a woman," she said, surprised at the words coming out of her mouth. "Why not just stay here. Last time I looked in the mirror, I still qualified."

Ryan looked at her in disbelief, amazed at what she had just said. Even more astonished was Dalia herself. Two hours ago she was wondering if she was the only woman at Mickey's who wasn't fucking around. Now she was offering to pop the cherry of an eighteen-year-old boy.

Her mind drifted back to the days when Jack was a college freshman and her apartment was sometimes filled with many of his friends. More than a few times she had wondered what it might be like to bed one of them. On a few of her more lonely nights, she'd even fantasized what it would be like with more than one of them.

That, of course, had been phantasm, the sexual musings of a lonely woman. Since then, there had been men in her bed if not her life. The truth was that over the years most of her sexual satisfaction came from a battery-powered lover.

"I don't understand?" Ryan said, sure he had heard her wrong.

"It's really very simple," Dalia said as she stepped to within a foot of Ryan and gently stroking the side of his face. "You want to fuck a woman. I want a man inside of me. The solution seems obvious. Unless of course you think I'm too old?"

Dalia had chosen her words carefully, especially her use of the work "fuck". If she had learned nothing else in her sexual experience, it was that nothing turned on some men faster then a woman who talked dirty. It was quickly evident that Ryan fell into that category.

"Well?"

She took Ryan's lack of response as a yes and pressed her body against him, a manicured hand coming to rest on the rising bulge in his pants.

If there is one universal truth in the battle of the sexes, it is that no man was going to say no to a woman when she has his balls in her hand. Ryan proved to be no exception.

"Maybe we should cancel that cab." Dalia mused before pressing her lips against his for a brief moment.

As she dialed the telephone, Dalia wondered if she had lost her mind. Maybe so, she concluded, but she'd worry about it in the morning.

"Well that takes care of that." She hung up the phone. "Now where were we?"

Ryan was speechless to say the least. Dalia didn't mind. Right now she was talking enough for both of them. It was her way of dealing with nervousness.

"Oh yes," she smiled. "We were about to get more comfortable."

Returning to him, she turned around and presented her back. His eyes focused on the band of brown flesh between the nape of her neck and the top of her uniform.

"Would you mind undoing my zipper?".

He was quick to comply, watching as the rich warmth of her flesh became increasingly exposed. The zipper stopped just above the curve of her ass, giving a better view of the delight beneath the dark material, a view now marred only by the black strap of her bra.

"Could you undo that for me?"

His hands fumbling with the small clasp, brought back memories of Dalia's own teenhood dates. She considered for a moment helping him, then decided against it. If he took a little while to get the hang of it, well she had all night.

Even without being able to see it, the tall woman knew a smile now filled Ryan's face as she felt the tiny hook give way. Smaller hands took hold of Ryan's own and guided them around her. Gently she slid them under the dark material of her brassiere to come to rest against the lighter mounds beneath it.

"Mmmm!" she purred as she felt him cup her breasts.

Her nipples grew hard against his fingers, a hardness matched by that pressing her ass as she pulled him against her.

"Kiss me, Lover." Dalia said, arching her head over her shoulder, offering her lips to him.

Ryan followed her instructions, enjoying the press, first of her mouth, then her tongue within him. None of his dates had ever kissed him so erotically.

They traded desires like long lost lovers as the difference in years between them faded. All that mattered was that Ryan was a man, and Dalia was a woman.

Ryan continued to massage her breasts, savoring the softness of her flesh and the stubby hardness of her thick nipples. No longer restrained, her bra fell to the floor. Her uniform soon followed it, leaving her clad in only a pair of black panties.

She took hold of Ryan's right hand and brought it down to the waistband of her panties. Slipping under the elastic, it came to rest on her already wet mound. The forty-nine-year-old could feel the beat of his eighteen-year-old heart. That and the rapid pulse of his breaths.

"Right there." Dalia said as she took his index finger and led it to her excited clitoris.

His touch was a little clumsy at first. Then under her tutelage it became more effective.

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