It was the most bizarre encounter I'd ever had. And, it was the most erotic.

I was on one of those long drives. You know, point A to point B, not really in a hurry, but a good six to eight hours of driving. I had a set of tapes, mostly old stuff, so I wouldn't be completely alone when the radio stations faded out. I thumbed through them, picked out a compilation of old-time summer songs and popped them into the player. Just as the first beat started, I saw the white car in my rear view mirror pull out to pass me.

Now, I'm a guy. Like most guys, I check out the babes when I'm driving. It's what guys do. I looked to my left as the white car pulled even. What I saw took my breath away.

She was stunning. She had dark, curly hair that framed the face of what Greek sculptors used for models. I couldn't see her eyes, but I caught a glimpse of long eyelashes. She was wearing some sort of a sleeveless top, and her shoulder, the one I could see, looked round and soft.

"Wow!" I said out loud. She was a four-star babe, all right.

As she pulled back into line in front of me I noticed a license plate from my destination state. Could this mean we'd be able to keep company for the whole four or five hours left on this drive? I thought that would be kind of neat. The scenery along the interstate wasn't much to look at. But, if I could keep this little darling in sight, it sure would make the miles click of faster.

The babe started slowing down, so I pulled into the left lane. As I passed her, she looked straight across the lane and our eyes met. She smiled at me, and gave a little half wave. My heart literally pounded in my chest. I pulled ahead, noting that the eyes I'd seen were brilliant green. The smile was no less than dazzling. She let me pull back into the lane in front of her and kept pace with me for the next five or six miles as we plowed down that highway. I checked my mirror at least once ever ten seconds, just to make certain she was still there. Each time I checked, she would smile, sometimes large, and sometimes just a grin. I tentatively waved back to her, and she returned it by lifting her fingers from her steering wheel and wiggling them back and forth.

This is crazy! I remember thinking. I didn't now this woman and she didn't know me. Yet, here we were, nearly flirting at seventy miles an hour, screaming southward on one of our nation's interstate highways. The girl in the white car suddenly disappeared from my view. I searched the rearview and side-view mirrors and saw nothing. I felt almost bereft! Suddenly she appeared next to me in the left lane again. I wiped my brow and laughed. Her head snapped by and she too seemed to be laughing. She'd hid in my blind spot, teasing me, no doubt, until speeding up to keep formation with me on my left. She laughed, then looking straight ahead, kissed her fingertips and tossed it toward me with a glorious smile. I made as if to catch the thrown kiss and place it on my own lips. She waved a negative sign with her finger and touched her cheek. I nodded, and replaced the retrieved kiss on my own cheek. She nodded, chuckled visibly, then pulled ahead of me, her signal flashing her intention to re-enter the right lane.

I suddenly realized that I was having the time of my life. I hadn't had this much fun driving since I'd first gotten my license. Still, there was so much about this fascinating female I wanted to know. Could our destination be the same city? Was she married? What made her decide to flirt so outrageously on this particular day and on this particular highway, and with this particular lone man in his unremarkable Acura? I scrambled for a piece of paper among the litter of my early start. I found the back of a take-out bag, pristinely unprinted. My briefcase on the floorboard held a variety of writing instruments including a fairly large permanent marker. I scribbled the name of my destination city and a large question mark. I wanted to know how long I could expect to spend in the company of this startling woman.

I pulled up alongside her car, and held up my makeshift sign. She nodded and smiled. I dropped the sign and signaled the thumbs up to her. She rocked her head back in laughter again, and slowed to let me pull in front. I was delighted. We would share the highway for at least another five hours.

She followed me for another eight or ten miles before I saw the amber signal indicate she was pulling into the passing lane. I slowed marginally to allow her to come along side. I turned to look directly toward her. She smiled gently then held up a small sign of her own. I had to strain to see it. In an elegant hand were three letters. "GAS" her sign indicated. She pointed in front of me and I let her slide in to the gap. We buzzed down the highway for another two miles until the green signs indicated a rather large interchange with gas, food and lodging. I determined that wherever this beauty went, I would follow. We exited the expressway on a long exit ramp. I fixed my attention on her direction signals, and imitated them as soon as I saw them.

I had real butterflies in my belly as we turned off the exit ramp onto the four-lane state highway. What would I say to her? How would she react to my following her? Would she be angry? Surely not, or she wouldn't have given such a clear indication of her intentions. Still, my nerves were jangling as she pulled left across the traffic into a large self-service fueling station. I pulled up behind her white car as she aligned with a pump.

Without a moment's hesitation, she opened her door and stepped out. The sleeveless top didn't surprise me. What did was the pair of white micro shorts and low tennis shoes. Her legs were long, tanned and simply gorgeous. As she approached the pump mechanism, I leapt out of my Acura and rushed toward her.

"Let me do that," I offered. "No need for you to get yourself all smelling of gas."

What a moron! I thought. "... get yourself all smelling of gas"? She'll think I'm an idiot.

She smiled brightly. "Thank you, kind sir," she said, her voice like the tinkling of bells.

I lifted the pump handle while she swiped her card and opened the fuel port on the white car, which I now discerned to be a Saturn. I'd been so fixated on her, I hadn't even noticed the embossed trademark on the back bumper.

"You're a very brave woman," I told her, as the fuel began to flow. "It could be very dangerous flirting like that on the open road."

"You don't seem dangerous to me," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"No, I guess not. My name is Chad."

"Amanda," she answered, still with that sparkling smile.

"You're married," I said, indicating the ring set on her left hand.

"Yes."

"And an incorrigible flirt."

"True." Her eyes gleamed. "You're married, too?"

"Yes."

"Two lonely married people, out on the highway, flirting like maniacs."

"It helps the miles go by quicker," I told her.

"Do you think, since we're already stopped, we should have lunch?"

I checked my watch. It was 11:15. "It's a little early, for me," I admitted. "But, it's probably not a bad idea."

"Good," she said. "Let's go there." She pointed at one of those family restaurants with a gift shop attached. "We'll shop for souvenirs."

I finished pumping her fuel and hung the pump handle back in its place. She meticulously snapped off the receipt while I re-capped her fuel port.

"Follow me?" she asked, climbing back behind the wheel.

"Anywhere," I joked.

She laughed again, then closed the door. I heard the engine snap to life as I trotted back to my own vehicle. I followed her across the highway to the restaurant. She parked away from the doorway in a spot that had another next to it. I slid the Acura neatly in beside her and climbed out.

As Amanda and I walked toward the door, she wrapped her arm around mine.

"I like having an escort," she remarked, chuckling again.

"Two, non-smoking," she told the gal at the desk.

This was a take-charge kind of girl, I thought as we wound our way through the nearly deserted dining room toward our table. I sat across from her so I could feast my eyes on her lovely features. She perused the menu with intensity, then looked up, closed the menu with a snap and smiled.

"I've decided. What are you having?"

Her efficiency and matter-of-fact manner appealed to me. It also made me a little uncomfortable.

"Breakfast, I think. I rarely eat breakfast. The idea appeals to me."

"Me, too," she smiled. "That's what I'm having, too."

While we waited for our orders to come out, I found myself staring at this dark-haired beauty.

"What are the chances, do you suppose?" I asked her.

"The chances of what?"

"The two of us, being on the same road, open to a little flirtation, willing to take a couple of risks, you know."

Again, that brilliant smile. Then, she gave a little shrug. "It's a little crazy, isn't it?"

"Yes. But, I'm glad you decided to be a little crazy today."

"It's harmless, really."

"Is it?"

"Does anybody know you here?"

"No."

"Nobody knows me here, either. To them, we just look like any other couple. We can do whatever we want, and nobody will ever know."

I was taken aback. "I'm not sure what you mean."

She leaned across the table, her bright green eyes glittering. "We can be very, very bad. Nobody would ever find out."

"Amanda," I began, "this is starting to sound very dangerous to me."

The waitress arrived with our platters of eggs, bacon, hash browns and flapjacks. She fussed over us for a minute with syrup and ketchup, then finally retreated.

"You winked at me," Amanda accused after the waitress had left.

"I did not," I protested. "I merely looked."

"You winked at me, and smiled. I smiled back." She stuffed a piece of flapjack into her mouth, delicately wiping off the little drip of syrup from the corner of her mouth.

"I did see you smile," I admitted.

Amanda chewed for a few seconds. "After you winked, I thought, this guy wants to have sex with me. Isn't that true?"

"I thought you were pretty. I think you're beautiful."

"And you want to have sex with me."

"Amanda, I can't do that. I'm married. So are you!"

"And, then I thought," she went on, ignoring my comment, "it might be fun having sex with you. So, I decided that's what we'll do."

"That's nuts!"

"No it's not. We're both going to the same place. It's what, five or six hours from here? Nobody knows us. We could at least spend an hour having some fun together."

"But your husband," I protested.

"He won't know. Who's going to tell him? Nobody knows us."

"Why do you want to do this?"

"Because," she said, in that same matter-of-fact manner, "it is what I want to do."

"But, why?"

"I like the idea that you find me attractive. You do, don't you?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, then there it is."

Can I do this? Could I be unfaithful to my wife and have sex with the glorious creature? She was right. Nobody would ever have to know. We were miles and miles from anyone we knew. It was possible, I thought. But entirely out of the question.

"I know there are other men who find you attractive."

"My husband's friends," she confirmed. "But, they're so crude and tactless. Always pawing and fawning, making snide comments. You're completely different."

"How can you tell?"