"I-I-I-I'm Hooked on a feeling... I'm high on believing... that I'm in love with you..." I sang along with the radio as I wheeled the old Volkswagen Transporter into the highway rest area. I turned off the headlights as I slowed, there was a full moon out and the area was street lighted, so I could see and my parking lights would allow others to see me. I didn't want to disturb anyone who might be trying to sleep. Sleep was on my agenda as well, but first I needed the men's room. I'd been holding it for a while, and the johns at the last fuel stop had been closed. Between the pressure on my bladder and the fog of having been up for twenty-one hours this stop was mandatory.
I saw her standing inside the building as I parked the old micro-bus. She was looking up at the wall map, her back to the floor-to-ceiling glass front wall, a green military-style duffel beside her on the floor. A pair of loose, short-style coveralls over a tube top on her slim body was allowing lots of bare leg, mid-riff and shoulders for view. I liked what I saw.
I watched her as I locked up the van, a nip to the early October air reminding me that I needed to get through the Rockies before the first snowfall. There was something about her arms as she stood there but, tired as I was, I had covered half the distance to the glass doors before I realized what was going on. Her left arm was inside of her coveralls, and from the slight movements of her elbow, she was either rubbing or scratching at her crotch. Rubbing I thought, though I couldn't be sure at this angle. Her right arm was also under her coveralls, but higher and I couldn't see that it was moving. I kept watching as I approached the door and saw a twitch seem to start in one shoulder as her elbow movement became momentarily more pronounced. Then I was at the door and as it opened her hands suddenly jerked free of whatever they had been doing.
She seemed to be intently studying the map as I approached and raised her right hand as if tracing a route with her finger. But, I had already seen the dampness on the fingers of her left hand. As I came abreast we glanced at one another, her eyes seemed somewhat glazed. I smiled.
"You know I could probably help you with that if you were interested," I said, and mentally kicked myself for such a stupid line. But mother nature reasserted my reason for stopping and I was freed from the embarrassment of further conversation as I entered the men's room. The stalls were mostly trashed, of course, only the handicapped stall seemed clean enough for use. I used it.
I think it was about five minutes later, the worst was passed, I had already flushed once and the air was clearing when there came a light rapping on the stall door. Announcing that it was in use, I was surprised when the rapping came again and was followed by the appearance of a hand, over the top of the door, holding a pair of light blue frilly panties that exactly matched the polish on the nails. I remembered the young woman from the foyer then and unlocked the door, even though that was probably a stupid thing to do. It 'was' her though and she pushed open the door entering the stall, nude. She was dragging her duffel with her right hand and carrying her clothes in her left as she seemed to pause, showing off before me. I thought she was manna from heaven at that moment.
Tall, lithe of form with reddish blonde curly hair and widest brown eyes. Her narrow form was high breasted with flaring hips and a lighter, finer thatch of pubic hair than I would have anticipated. Long slimly tapered legs ended at long toed feet with nails the same color as her fingernails and her panties. The only mark I saw anywhere was an appendectomy scar. Without a word she closed and locked the stall door pushing her duffel against it. Hanging her coveralls from the door mounted hook, she pushed the tube top and panties into one of it's pockets, then looked quickly at me and the stall itself.
Handicapped stalls are somewhat larger than the standard men's room stall and have hand rails mounted on the walls to either side for the assistance of those with physical problems. The toilet seats are also somewhat higher and wider than normal for greater comfort.
She sniffed the air once and made a small face but shrugged her shoulders and smiled as she leaned close kissing me lightly, once, closed mouth. Nudging my right leg with her hand I shifted my position around to the left as she placed her left foot on the seat beside my leg. Using her right hand on the dividing wall for support, she raised her right leg and placed the foot on the hand rail, sliding it past me as she crouched and stretched, adjusting her position above and before me.
Reaching between her legs, I placed my left hand under her buttocks, partly to assist in her support, but mostly so I could further guide and position her to my liking. My right hand I placed across her upper thigh and abdomen as my thumb found the apex of her labia and pressed, beginning a pronounced circular movement. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed as she made the first sound I'd heard her utter, a low growling sound deep in her throat.
"What? No foreplay? No endearments? No candle-light dinner?" I joked.
"Shut up and eat," and she wrapped the fingers of her left hand in my short hair, pulling my head forward for emphasis. "And I hope you prove worth the discomfort of this position."
I looked at her treasure for the first time then. I mean really looked at it since I'd earlier been more interested in her movements as she positioned and supported herself within the stall, partly for her safety but mostly for mine. Considering the offer being made, I had really given very little thought to the comfort factors of her position and was not going to follow that issue and have her change her mind.
I had been home to Michigan for my baby brother's wedding. I'd flown home, and during my stay there had bought the old van I was driving. It had been too good a deal to pass up. A little sanding at some rust, some dent repair here and there and I had what I expected to be a lasting and reliable vehicle. The repairs and repainting had taken longer than anticipated though, and I now found myself with only three days to drive to the west coast.
But the offer before me now was foremost on my mind, especially since I'd not had sex for almost two months, I was horny enough to have fucked my ex-girlfriend again, though the dose of the clap she'd given me was the end of that relationship.
Her pubic hair, as I'd earlier noted, was much finer and sparser than I would have expected in a woman in her twenties. Long fine red-gold hairs that appeared almost groomed as they curved between her legs and over her pubis. I found that she had parted and opened with her position and moving my thumb aside I found myself with a fine view of her cleft. Her urethra was the first thing I took note of, the tip of a whitish tube protruding marginally from the surrounding flesh. Her Vagina was next, a partially opened tunnel which seemed to curve back, away from me and up into her recesses as it closed with depth. Then I saw her clitoris, or rather just the barest tip of it where it was peeking from beneath the V of it's protective hood, just below where my thumb had been playing.
I leaned forward then, opening my mouth. My right thumb returned to it's earlier position and ministrations, my left thumb slid forwards and began playing against the opening of her vagina, slowly sinking deeper into the warmth of her as it became moistened with her lubricating fluids. My mouth and tongue I used to cover my own right thumb and her upper valley as I explored a line from her urethra to her clitoris, repeating the movements over and over again, feeling the jolt that passed through her each time my tongue or teeth came into contact with either of those sensitive protrusions. Once my left thumb was fully buried within her I did not fuck her with it, but rather moved it in circular motions within her vagina as I sped up my oral ministrations.
She must have really been horny as it was only a matter of minutes before she was nothing but a quivering, jerking mass of flesh trying to bury itself deeper within my mouth. Her hand in my hair was now a fist that threatened to bald me as she held on for dear life and balance. I didn't care, wouldn't have cared if she had, at that moment. God, I love the taste of pussy.
I don't know how long that really lasted, I lose all sense of time during such moments, but I am sure that long minutes passed, at the least, with us locked in that position before she used her grip on my hair to pull me away from her.
I had to help her down and for long seconds, after she'd regained the floor, she leaned against the wall for support as her eyes cleared and her breathing became more normal. She simply gazed at me, a rather ridiculous looking grin on her lips as she recovered herself.
At some rime during our shenanigans, I'd finished my business and I used the toilet paper to clean myself then reached behind me to flush without rising. As I shifted, my hardened cock sprang into view from where it had been trapped between my thighs. She was looking at it when I turned to face her once more.
"Fair is fair," she said with a slightly contralto voice and stepped forward to position me to her liking. She had me slide forward on the seat and pushed on my shoulders until my back rested against the exposed steel plumbing of the stool. This had me as close to stretched out as I could get under the circumstances and allowed my cock to stand more erect. It also allowed more of it to rise above my thighs and she used a piece of toilet paper to rub and dab at it before she straddled my thighs.
.... There is more of this story ...