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I was taking a trip around Australia, driving this big old motorhome. I had some decent finances behind me, even if I didn’t look like I did, and I was planning on spending at least a year on the road.

When this little episode started I was driving through some mountains. Some bloody treacherous roads up there with some very nasty bends. As you can guess, I didn’t exactly have my foot flat to the floor. On top of the lousy road, the weather looked to be somewhat menacing. It was supposed to have been a clear day but some damn thick clouds gave the lie to that, the change having come a lot earlier than expected.

I’m no idiot. I’d already decided that if the heavens descended then that would be the end of my driving for the day. I’d pull up at the first convenient stop and prop there, spending the night if I had to. What’s the use of a motorhome if you don’t use it as a home during rough weather?

I’d just spotted the lights of a little general store when the rains came. No gentle shower this but an instant storm. Fortunately I was already getting ready to pull into the parking lot next to the store.

The store had extra covers reaching out from the store, shelters for the lonely traveller. I parked under some covers and managed to get to the store without getting too wet. Very nice and warm it was in there. Surprisingly spacious, too, with a large variety of goods.

I’d no sooner stepped inside and the bloke running the place came oiling up to me. He was the greasiest character I’d seen in a long time. My immediate impression was that I’d better put my hand on my wallet and keep it firmly attached.

He slid up to me asking what he could sell me. He had everything available. If I didn’t see it, just ask and he probably had some out the back. Anything at all, he tells me, as he has a lot of customers that want a little extra not normally for sale in his sort of shop.

I’ll just bet he did. Uppers and downers and your poison of choice, he probably had the lot. I explained I was really just taking a break from the weather.

Not in his shop, I wasn’t. If I wasn’t here to buy then I wasn’t here at all. And the parking was only for customers. There was a truck stop a few miles further down the road.

“Geez, mate, have you seen the weather out there? A man could get killed trying to make it a few more miles to a truck stop.”

No skin of his nose, apparently. I should just drive carefully. He was in business to sell stuff. Not give shelter to deadbeats.

So, OK, I say. I’ll look around and buy something. I’m short a few groceries and stuff anyway.

I started gathering a few things together. Not many things because I suddenly noticed his prices. Quite a mark-up the old guy had. It wasn’t that I couldn’t afford it; just a basic objection to getting ripped off. My money would go twice as far at the next town.

I was at the back of the store, getting a couple of beers from the fridge, when this young woman walked in from the back rooms and started stocking some shelves. Wow and double wow. She was a honey. No more than twenty and stacked. Abbreviated top and short shorts and, man oh man, they looked good on her.

I took my things back to the counter and the proprietor started ringing them up.

“I take it everything in this shop is for sale,” I said casually.

“Everything,” he grunted.

“Prices negotiable?”

“Depends on what you want,” I was told, the old man looking rather cagy now.

“Fifty bucks to have her carry my groceries out to the motorhome,” I said, jerking my thumb to where the young woman was working. “I have a sore arm.”

“That’s my daughter, Didi, you’re talking about,” came the snarled reply.


“Do you really think I’m going to send her out to your ‘home so you can jump her? I know exactly what’s on your mind.”

“For fifty bucks, yes, I do think you’ll let her carry out my groceries. If you think a woman who looks like that isn’t already being jumped regularly, you’re nuts. So why not by me, if it means fifty for you?”

He looked at me and then his eyes flicked down to the fifty I’d placed on the counter. He glared at me again, but grabbed the fifty.

“Just don’t blame me if she turns you down,” he snapped.

With that he called for the girl. She came sauntering up and my blood pressure rose. Sex on two legs, and I’m damn sure she knew it.

“Take these things out to this guy’s car,” he snapped. “He’s hurt his arm and can’t carry stuff.”

She looked at me, shrugged, and picked up the box of groceries with no problems. I followed behind her. She looked around when she stepped out the door and my old motorhome was the only vehicle in sight.

“Spot on,” I murmured as she turned towards it. “Just hang on canlı bahis a second while I unlock the side door.”

I unlocked and stepped back and she hopped nimbly in, moving fast to avoid the splashing rain. I followed her in, closing the door behind me.

“Thank you,” I said, as she placed my things on the little table. “Tell me, is that old geezer your father?”

“Not so you’d notice,” she said. “I guess officially he’s my stepfather. Why?”

“Oh, it just struck me as odd that he’d sell you for fifty bucks if he was really your father.”

She just blinked at me, taking it in.

“You offered my father fifty bucks for me?”

I bowed my head in acknowledgement.

“And he didn’t punch you out or pull out his shotgun?”

“Those are the things a guy like that would do if you were trying to take fifty bucks from him. Not if it was being offered.”

“So what did he do when you insulted me?”

“He took the fifty bucks and sent you out here with my groceries.”

Her face was flaming.

“He took the money? Did it occur to either of you that I might say no?”

“Well, it did occur to us, and he mentioned it, but we agreed that it would be irrelevant regarding our transaction.”

I thought she was going to scream in fury.

“How could he do that? How could you do that? How dare you?”

“Hey,” I said, spreading my hands in a helpless gesture. “I just pointed out that you weren’t a virgin and that being the case, why shouldn’t he make a buck out of it?”

“And what the hell makes you think I’m not a virgin?”

“That amazing body of yours and the way you know how to move it,” I said. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No, you’re bloody not. I am a damned virgin, not that it’s any of your business.”

I must have looked highly sceptical because she blushed and carried on.

“Well, practically,” she amended her claim. “And I would be totally if it hadn’t been for that damned priest. He tricked me. And him a man of God.”

“Ah, how many times did he trick you?” I asked, trying to keep a straight face but knowing I wasn’t succeeding.

“Three or four,” she muttered, “and then the Mother Superior caught us. I got sent home, but they just said it was because I was homesick. The Mother Superior said that it was my fault because I should have known better at my age. I wrote her a letter listing the other women that the priest was giving special counselling to.”

“I dislike treacherous people,” I said. “The man had a moral responsibility towards you and ignored it. Not nice.”

“How are you any better?” came the demand. “You’re paying my step-father fifty dollars for me, even though I don’t agree.”

“True, but I’m up front about it. I’m not trying to deceive you in any way. I’m just going to do my best to remove your panties. And the rest of your clothes, come to think of it. As for your agreeing or not, we’ll worry about that later.”

“And just when do you consider the proper time to discuss my consent? After you’ve raped me?”

Such a cynical tone for such a sweet young thing. It was troubling.

“Continuing in my open and honest fashion, I have to admit that I have no intention of raping you, so discussing your consent or lack thereof will obviously take place before I take you. However, I feel that seeing I’ve already paid up front, the discussion could better take place after your clothes have been removed.”

“I don’t want to take off my clothes,” she protested. “I have no intention of taking off a single sock. Ah, what are you doing?”

“I’m taking off my own clothes,” I said as I continued to strip. “It would be hypocritical of me to expect you to take off yours if I wasn’t willing to do the same.”

“You stop that,” she snapped, her face blushing madly. “Don’t you dare get undressed.”

“Bit late to say that,” I pointed out, standing there naked, letting it all hang out. Perhaps hang is the wrong word. Standing tall might be a better description. Didi had glanced down, swallowed and was now looking elsewhere, face redder than ever.

She really would have been wiser to have kept her eyes on me. While she was pointedly looking elsewhere I moved closer and was lifting up her top before she had a chance to protest. The top was abbreviated and loose and I had it up past her breasts in zero seconds flat, accidentally taking her bra with me. Instead of keeping her hands at her sides, effectively holding her top on, she raised them to grab the top. This let me slide the armholes up along her arms and popped it over her head. The top was still tangled around her wrists but it wasn’t covering anything.

I caught her wrists when she brought her hands around to cover her breasts, easing the top off completely and also holding her arms bahis siteleri away from her breasts. I held them wide, admiration for her lovely breasts plain on my face.

“You are extraordinarily lovely,” I said softly, releasing her wrists. At the same time I reached up and very lightly stroked a breast with one finger, trailing it across her breast to finish at her nipple.

I don’t care what women say about flashing their body at men. If their breasts are on display and a man is honestly admiring them they are flattered and wouldn’t dream of covering them up immediately. They might suddenly remember that they should, but their first reaction is to let the man look.

I caressed her breasts very lightly, murmuring flattering things about them and her, and Didi stood there, blushing and listening. Then she gave a sudden gasp and her hands promptly covered her breasts.

“You had no right to do that,” she snapped. “How could you? Give me back my top.”

“Stop worrying about it,” I said soothingly. “You’ll get your top back shortly.”

Didi was conscious of her breasts and protecting them. That was OK as I was now reaching down to her shorts. I flicked the button open and drew them down, while Didi squealed and snatched at them. Too late again. I had them well on their way to the floor.

“Stop swearing and lift your foot,” I told her, tapping her ankle. Surprisingly she did so and I slipped shorts and panties off first one foot and then the other.

“I’ll let you keep your socks on seeing you insist,” I told her, “and don’t swear,” I added as she said a very rude word.

I turned and sat on the bench next to the table, pulling Didi down onto my lap. She started to wriggled and then found that this meant she was rubbing herself against my erection, it currently having happily settled between us, rubbing against my tummy and her bottom. She promptly sat very still.

“You said you weren’t going to rape me,” she said, sounding somewhat bitter.

“Neither am I,” I told her. “This is not rape. It might be considered indecent assault, but that’s all. All I’m doing right now is let myself feel your body. It’s a really nice one you know.”

I went on to describe her body to her, using tactile impressions to give emphasis to what I was saying.

“Skin like silk,” I’d murmur, trailing my fingertips across her tummy, nails scratching very lightly, setting up a curling feeling under her skin.

“Your nipples are the colour of strawberries, sitting on little bowls of cream,” would be accompanied by a gentle pinch to a nipple and the caressing cupping of the appropriate breast.

“Your hair is soft and curly,” gently plucking at it. And no, I was not talking about the hair on her head. She started squirming some more when I ran my fingers through those little curls.

I described her long legs, running my hands up them, finishing up admiring the curves and the warmth of her mound. My hand lingered there for a while, listening to her breathing grow harder.

I admired her tummy, hand running across it and down, finishing up entangled in her curls again.

Hands back up to her breasts, cupping both, rhapsodising about their beauty, rolling her nipples under my thumbs.

I traced her lips with my finger, pulling her lower lip down, not forgetting to admire the white gleam of her teeth.

I did remember to point out that I couldn’t describe her feet. Not really, because she still had her socks on.

And all the time she sat there on my lap, my erection pressing against her, taking it all in while pretending not to listen. Slowly she changed from stiffly sitting to relaxed and settled against me. Slowly I moved my hands around her body, but spending more and more time on her breasts and her mound, slowly building an arousal.

Several times my fingers would accidentally slip past her lips, probing softly against her inner self. The first couple of times she stiffened slightly, not relaxing again until my hand moved on. The third time she stayed relaxed, although I could see she was holding her breath. I didn’t linger, letting her breath normally, if a bit harder than previously. Subsequent incursions were accepted, and I could feel her heat and moisture increasing, her pussy involuntarily pushing against me when I probed her.

Finally I move one hand to press against her tummy, holding her firmly. I took her hand and moved it between our bodies, bringing it to rest on my cock, closing it lightly around me. She kept hold of it.

“Didi,” I said very quietly, “In a moment I’m going to take you down to that bed at the end of the ‘home and lie you on it. Then I’m going to finish what we’ve started here. Are you going to say no?”

She turned to stare at me, her eyes wide. She’d been bahis şirketleri too definite about not agreeing earlier. Saying yes would seem like backing down, but I wasn’t asking her to say yes. I was just asking if she was going to say no. She just kept her mouth shut.

I rose to my feet, putting her on hers at the same time. Arm round her waist I steered her down to the waiting bed. Thank god I’d changed the sheets that morning, leaving it nice and neat looking. I sweated blood on that short walk, waiting for her to snap out of it and say “no way, Jose”. The only encouragement I had was the fact that she still maintained her hold on my erection.

Then she was on the bed and I was easing her legs further apart, settling between them. She looked nervous, opening her mouth to speak, but I got in first.

“Hush,” I said quietly, touching a finger to her lips. “Just relax.”

She lay back looking into my eyes while I made a few adjustments. Then my erection was pressing against her slit, moving against her lips, eager to take her.

I was hard, as hard as I’ve ever been, which was fortunate, as Didi was tight. It was obvious she hadn’t had sex recently and her body was being a little slow adjusting. I moved slowly, gradually easing her passage apart, slipping further and further into her. It wasn’t that she was reluctant, being hot and wet and ready, but she was unpractised. Still, moving firmly forward I pushed my way into her, feeling her starting to yield more easily, stretching and taking me. The entire time she looked at me, eyes fastened to mine, seeking reassurance and hopefully getting it, as I was crooning little words of encouragement as we went.

We finally came completely together, and Didi seemed to give a little shudder and relax. I held myself in her for a moment, watching her face as she considered the feel of me inside her. When the moment seemed right I started to move, slowly withdrawing partway and moving firmly back into position.

Didi gave another little shudder at that but then seemed to relax even more. Her breathing deepened and when I pulled out for another stroke she rose to meet me, gasping a little as she did so.

From there on everything was fine. I slowly increased the length of my strokes until I was driving full bore with every thrust, Didi happily pushing up to meet me. After a slow start I settled down to a nice medium paced rhythm, riding her with mounting enthusiasm.

I didn’t just bang her. As soon as I saw that Didi was happy with the way things were going I took hold of her breasts, teasing them. Didi, by the way, was still keeping her eyes locked on mine, and I didn’t try to prevent it.

We stayed locked together, moving in a mutually satisfying rhythm. Didi was breathing harder, giving a little gasping sound each time I drove home. After a while she wasn’t looking into my eyes. A bit hard to do when your own eyes are shut and you’re just thinking happy thoughts.

At that point I covered her mouth with my own, establishing another firm contact. Mouth to mouth, hands on breasts, groins locked together, each point of contact generating its own magic.

Excitement was racing through me and, the way Didi was reacting, she had her own share of excitement dictating to her emotions. This middle phase of lovemaking is one of the most exciting, especially if you can draw it out, keeping each other nicely balanced between pleasure and climaxing, walking on a fine edge that is almost painful it’s so exquisite.

We achieved that edge for a while. How long, who knows? It’s impossible to measure while you’re actually there and afterward, who cares?

I finally yielded to the driving forces within me. I started driving in harder and faster, shortening my strokes to get more in in less time. Didi twisted her mouth free of mine, a scream rising from deep within her.

Then I climaxed, driving in almost brutally, but I don’t think it registered with her because she was climaxing herself, biting down on her scream as she did so, letting it emerge in a strangled wail.

With that she sagged back down onto the bed, all of her bones apparently liquefied. I knew how she felt, slumping down on top of her, my hands continuing to trace over her body as I lay there, gasping for breath.

I recovered first and got dressed, sitting back on the bed to continue stroking Didi. After a while she stirred and sat up, looking at me.

“I said no,” she muttered.

“You did,” I agreed. “Just not at the right time.”

She laughed.

“What now?” she asked.

“Well,” I said thoughtfully, “for me it’s easy. The rain seems to have stopped so I’ll be driving on. You have a choice. You can go back inside and tell the old man you said no, and if he tries a stunt like that again you’ll have him arrested for pandering. Alternatively, you can refuse to get out of my motorhome and I’ll have to take you with me.”

That is how I happened to pick up a companion for my trip. Life can be fun.

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