“You got a visitor, boy,” my landlord shouted in his typical gruff, annoyed voice. He wasn’t mean or bad, just old and crochety. We usually got along and when we didn’t, we just moved away from each other. I never wanted to get him pissed off at me because the room I rented from him was too good of a deal, as was his allowing me to use his vast shop of tools when I needed something I didn’t have.

I was tying my shoes before going to work at the Burger King in Urbana. “I’ll be right there,” I hollered back. Grabbing my wallet and keys from the nightstand, I headed to the front door. Waiting for me was the woman from next door. Whoa! I’d seen her from time to time, we had waved to each other in passing, and once I was treated to her sunbathing in her backyard wearing a bikini, as viewed through a gap in the fence boards, but we’d never been closer than twenty-something feet to each other.

Of course, I went tongue-tied. All I could get out was a lame, “Hi.”

“My car won’t start and I need to be to work in a half hour,” she explained. “Would it be too much of a bother for you to give me a ride? I can pay you.”

“Where do you work?” I asked. She gave the name of a department store in Urbana which was right on my way. “I’m going right by there. I’ll be glad to help. No charge.”

“Oh, thank you,” she gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

We got into my ‘66 Plymouth Valiant and headed out. It was only about a 20-minute drive, but there was a stretch of the road through Thomasboro where I drove five to ten miles below the speed limit. The cop there was a total dick. I ran a little over before and after it to make up the time.

Along the way we chatted, and I was amazed at how easy it was to talk to her, especially with about two-thirds of her thighs exposed and her perfume going right from my nose to my cock. That should have muddled my head worse than seeing her standing in the doorway. She was in her mid-20s and married to a lieutenant in the Air Force. He’d been stationed at Chanute AFB there in Rantoul, where we lived, until orders came for an extended, isolated tour somewhere in Germany. He still had almost a year to go. Her job was a model at the department store. They had a runway like the big fashion shows did, but not as big of a deal. It was more of an attention-getter to attract customers. I asked her what she did when she wasn’t working. “Oh, a little of this and that,” she said with a sly smile.

We arrived at the store way too soon for me, but just in time so she (and I) wouldn’t be late. She thanked me, squeezed my hand, and turned to get out. “How are you getting home?” I asked, hoping I could pick her up after my work was over.

“I can catch a ride from one of the girls here. Don’t you worry. I’ll be fine.” Damn it.

As I traveled the few blocks to the Burger King, I sniffed my hand. Geez, it had her perfume on it. I paused for a minute in the parking lot to get some more sniffs, just to imprint the odor on my brain. Yeah, I was a way-too-horny 18-year-old male with raging hormones.

Work was work. How special is loading burger patties and buns onto a broiler conveyor belt? Her scent disappeared quickly in that environment. Bummer. On the way home I thought of cruising by the department store to see if she was there and I could give her a ride, but then I thought of how that would seem to her if she was there. Total creep factor. I went home.

I parked the Valiant in the driveway and as I got out I heard her voice calling my name. Turning around I saw her waving and coming my way. She’d changed into tight shorts and a tight-fitting pullover top. Oh, fuck, she looked good. I felt my dick stirring again. Crap, I did NOT want to pop a boner in front of her, so I tried to not notice how sexy she was.

“Hi, Steve. Thanks again for the ride to work. Can I ask another favor?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve noticed you working on your car sometimes and was hoping you could take a look at mine. It still won’t start.”

I went to the trunk, popped the lid, and pulled out my toolbox. “Be glad to,” I said and we headed for her car. I let her lead so I could enjoy the view.

OK, full disclosure time. I was a virgin. I’d almost gotten my finger into a pussy once, but she said it hurt and stopped me. Another time I and a friend who was a girl were getting naked in the back seat of the Valiant when we were interrupted by the sheriff. He was an ass, but he let us go. Other than that, my experience was limited to necking and feeling a girl up through her clothes. None of the girls I knew back in Alabama would dress like that. Their fathers would lock them up if they tried. Of course, they were girls, not women like Sandie.

Her car was a ‘64 Pontiac Lemans convertible with the 6-cylinder engine. She’d run the battery down trying to start it, so I brought the Valiant over and hooked up the jumper cables to charge it some. We chatted some more while waiting. She invited me to supper that evening as a thanks for helping her. That sounded better than the frozen fish sticks I had been looking forward to so I accepted. Actually, I would have accepted no matter what food was involved just to spend more time with her. As the air currents shifted I kept catching whiffs of her perfume.

As it turned out, her air filter was clogged so bad that her engine had flooded. The parts store was closed by then, so I left it out and told her I’d pick one up for her tomorrow. Hell, yeah, get more time tomorrow. Sweet! After about fifteen minutes and a clear carburetor airway, I tried the key and the engine caught. She squealed in delight, jumping up and down clapping her hands. I unhooked the jumpers, closed both hoods, put my tools away and parked the Valiant in my driveway. She was waving me over, but I held up my dirty hands and shouted I needed to clean up. “You can do that here. Come on over,” she called out. OK, I could wash up over there just as well. It wasn’t like I had anything on me that would require GoJo.

In her home, she directed me to the kitchen sink to wash up. “It’s okay to use the dish soap. Gordon always does,” she instructed. Gordon was her husband. As I washed, she began fixing supper.

“I didn’t make it to the grocery today as planned. I hope burgers and fries are okay,” then she paused and her face fell. “Oh, no. You cook burgers and fries all day. You’re probably sick of them.” She opened the freezer door to see what other options there were. Keep in mind, this was before the days of microwave ovens. Quick thawing was soaking the item in hot water which always took close to an hour.

“I’ve got some frozen fish sticks at my place. I could get them,” I offered with a very straight face. Damn, by her expression I think she was considering them, but there was a hint of disappointment there, too. Shaking my head, I continued with a slight laugh, “No, seriously, burgers and fries will be great. I’m sure yours are better than those mass-produced things I run through a machine.”

“Well, let’s see what I can do,” she said with a smile. The biggest, brightest smile I’d seen her have. It lit the room up. She offered me a beer which I accepted. I leaned against the cabinets across from the oven while she cooked. We chatted easily, something that still amazed me, especially since I was zeroed in on her body, doing my best to see through what little covering she was wearing. All the while, my dick threatened to rise.

The food was cooked in a short time. She used pre-cut, frozen fries which she dropped into a deep fat fryer like my Mom had. I wondered how her fried chicken would measure up to Mom’s. If the burgers were any indication, Mom would have some stiff competition. Wow! I don’t know how she seasoned them, but mine was the best I’d ever had. If she cooked everything like this, Gordon was one hell of a lucky man.

Supper was done way too fast. It seemed everything involving her was done way too fast. I downed the last of my beer and began to say my goodbyes. “Have you seen that new show, Hee Haw?” she asked. I replied that I’d watched one show and thought it was pretty funny. “It’s coming on right now. Want to stay and watch it with me?” Fuck, yeah, I did.

“That would be great,” is what I said. She led me into the living room where she turned on the TV and motioned me to the couch. I sat on one end. As the TV warmed up, she selected the channel and came over to the other end of the couch.

Hee Haw was a variety comedy with a country theme and soon we were laughing at the skits. I particularly liked one where they sang, “Gloom, despair, and agony on me”. She favored the one where the two guys were “pickin’ and grinnin’”.

During a commercial she offered another beer, which I accepted. Returning from the kitchen, she handed it to me and sat down in the middle of the couch instead of the end where she had been. Whoa! Was I reading that right or was it just over-expectant horny thinking? The show came back on and we sat there laughing and singing along with the songs we knew. I forget the skit, but something cracked her up. She leaned way over toward me, put her hand on my thigh, then sat up and removed it. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I made the bold move of turning toward her so my right leg was bent and on the couch, left foot still on the floor, and I put my arm along the back of the couch. My hand almost reached her shoulder. That was all I had the nerve for at that time.

All too soon (again), the credits were rolling. She turned to face me, the opposite position of mine. “I like you, Steve. You’re a lot of fun.” My mind tried to add, “For a kid.” But she continued, “Would you like to stay the night?” I’m glad I didn’t have anything in my mouth.

Suddenly, I realized I was just sitting there staring at her and hadn’t answered. Shit, how long had it been? “Umm, sure,” I almost stuttered. Thank God, that didn’t happen. I was being enough of a dork already. She smiled and looked down at the couch between us, then slid over into that space, placing her left leg over my right. Then she took my right hand which was still on the back of the couch into both of hers.

Looking at my hand, tracing it with her fingertips, she asked, “You’ve never been with a woman, have you?” Shit, was it that obvious? Of course, it was. Dork!

My mind churned through all my “conquests” until I admitted to myself that I had none. “No, just making out,” I confessed.

“Let’s change that tonight,” she said in a soft, sultry voice. Fuck, my hand was shaking. Fuck, my whole body was trembling. Fuck, what a dork! I couldn’t reply. I had no faith in what my brain might try to say or how my mouth would make it come out. I just nodded. Like a dork.

She leaned over and placed her lips on mine. Softly, so softly, in a way no other girl had ever done. Her lips lingered. Mine opened. She pulled back. Shit, did I do something wrong? Her smile and her eyes said everything was okay. She stood and gently pulled my hand to encourage me to follow. I did. Right into her bedroom. She had a dimmer on the light which she adjusted to a faint, soft glow. After leading me to the side of her king-sized bed, she turned to face me, arms to her sides.