This story contains scenes of an adult and sexually graphic nature. If you're too young to smoke or you're offended by stories involving sex then stop right now. This story is not intended for you.
This story is real, though I've changed the names of people and places. The events depicted here happened not too long ago, but many things have changed since then. This story is more confession than anything else. I wanted to write everything I could remember so that I could begin to understand the changes that occured in me. This is the beginning then, and it wouldn't have happened unless I wanted it to.
Any comments are appreciated. Send them to: Xuxan40@aol.com
I, SLUT: Part 1 of 5 Parts
It started with a popping sound like a string of firecrackers from under the hood of my Ford Mustang, followed by a sick coughing and chugging. I geared down and headed for the breakdown lane on the freeway. "Shit..." I thought, "...why me....why for christsakes now..." I felt a rush of anxiety. I couldn't afford even a minor car repair now. When I came to a stop alongside the rush hour traffic I got out and opened the hood. I smelt oil and burnt plastic and the engine steamed like a locomotive. I knew it wasn't good. I gazed at the stream of traffic moving past in fits and starts - but moving nonetheless - and cursed the fates and automotive gods that brought me to this place. I got back in the Ford and called Triple A on my cell phone. The lady on the other end took all the information and distractedly told me "Someone will be there in 30 minutes honey..."and hung up. "And I'm the next Miss America..." I thought. The next call I made was the one I dreaded: the one to my husband. After a couple of rings the machine picked up and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Hi Tom...listen...the Ford broke down on I-5 near Des Moines. Triple A is on the way...I'll be late I guess...so forage for dinner...I'll call when I know something...bye..." I lit a cigarette and waited. The radio still worked.
Only ten minutes had gone by when a tow truck pulled over in front of me. While waiting I had briefly fantasized about a tall well muscled hunk coming to my rescue, but instead the driver was an older man in coveralls that at one time may have been gray. He walked over and leaned in the window. "What seems to be the trouble?" he asked. "I don't know..." I began, "it just want 'pop-pop' and started smoking and I lost power and here I am..." He squinted up his eyes and said "Pop the hood latch and I'll take a look." He opened the hood as I got out of the car and went and stood beside him. He made murmuring sounds as he bent over the engine, and I couldn't help but notice the outline of a fairly nice butt though the worn fabric of his coveralls. "When's the last time you put water in the radiator?" he asked. Water? Radiator? "I don't know..." I answered. "Thought so." he said with a smile. "You sure got here fast." I said. He looked puzzled. "Triple A said it you'd be here in 30 minutes. It must be my lucky day." I said. "Well...they'll be more than 30 minutes. I heard on the CB there's a maggot mangle 10 miles down the road. I'm not with Triple A, lady. I was on my way home when I saw you sitting here. I figure it'll be a couple hours before they even remember you're here." Great. "Can you help me?" I asked, trying to not sound too needful. "Well, you've got a blown hose and your radiator may be cracked. That's simple enough to fix. I can tow you to my place and you can decide what you want to do." "Good enough" I said.
It took him only a few minutes to back up and hook up my car. I climbed into the front seat which was surprisingly clean. It smelled of sweat and tobacco and gasoline, eau de mechanic if there ever was one. He got in and eased into the traffic. "I'm about 20 minutes away from here. Name's Jim. Jim Boone. My friends call me Boonie." he said, holding out a big paw toward me. I took his hand and shook. "I'm Suzi - short for Sueann. You're a lifesaver Boonie. I'm sure glad you came along." His large hand was surprisingly light in mine. "Well...don't be going on like that. I'm no Good Samaritan...this is gonna run you about two hundred bucks." I tried to keep my poker face on, but I saw him raise an eyebrow. "That's standard for a tow. It gonna be a problem?" "No...I don't think so..." "Good, because if it is I'll stop right now and park you and your Ford back on the shoulder." There was an edge to his tone that caused a thrill of fear to pass through me. I saw him scowling, then smiling. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered me one. When I took one he said "Don't worry there Suzi, I know you're good for it. I just meet a lot of deadbeats in this business. A guy's got to make a living."
I studied my rescuer as he drove. The summer day still had that afternoon heat to it, so we rode with windows down. He wore his coveralls unzipped over his chest and I could see the pale white of his skin that contrasted to the dark tan of his face and neck that comes from working outside. I guessed he was in his early to mid fifties, he probably smoked and drank too much but he had a rebar lean body from a lifetime of physical work, not sculpted on weight machines at the gym. His hands were large and tough, and I given the fullness in his crotch they weren't the only oversized parts of his body.
The cigarette he gave me was harsh and I coughed when I inhaled. He glanced over at me then and I saw his eyes wander down to my legs. My legs are one of my finer features I think and for the first time since the breakdown I felt some confidence. He looked up at me and our eyes met and a he gave me a flirty smile that wasn't quite a leer, but let me know that he liked what he was looking at.I was dressed in a pleated gray linen skirt that ends about six inches above my knees, a cotton V-neck blouse with no bra, and a black jacket, black pantihose and heels. I'm a temp, so I like to dress conservative but not to. It gets you noticed. I'm a brunette with shoulder length hair, no supermodel but with a well kept 36 year old body. Most of the men I meet are so self-conscious about sexual harassment that you could walk naked in front of them and they'd not bat an eye. I found it refreshing to meet someone who could still let you know with a wink and a smile that he'd give you a tumble if he had the chance.
He took an offramp and before I knew it we were driving down a wooded road. There were occasional small developments of homes, but mostly single homes on county lots. We turned off the road that said "J-B's AutoBody". He pulled up to a large double bayed garage and backed up neat as you please. "Here we are." he said. He used a remote to open the bay door, and lights flickered on. He eased the Ford into the garage. He got out. I opened my door and he was standing there and held a hand out to help me down. "Easy there Suzi...you can break an ankle with those heels." As I turned on the front bench seat of the truck my knees drew apart giving my rescuer a fleeting glance between my legs. I saw that he didn't miss it. I stepped down, my skirt riding up my email@example.com