1. Hitchhiking to Ecstasy


    Date: 8/26/2015, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Sisyphus, Rating: 9, Source: LushStories

    icy Maine roads,” he said. “Yeah, I’m not from around here. I was on my way back to Boston after visiting an old friend from college and decided, stupidly, to take a back road.” He nodded and smiled at me. It was dark in the car, but I could see he had a nice smile. The classical music was soft and I relaxed, thinking he didn't seem like a mad rapist. I don’t usually listen to classical music, but it was nice to listen to—kind of soothing. We were both quiet as he drove and I looked out the window. “Almost there,” he said, as we turned down a dirt road. He drove slowly over the bumpy road, steering the car around pot holes. He turned down another narrower dirt road that had trees on both side and had a lot of curves.” Where in the world are we? I wondered as we drove through the woods, and then when we turned into a small lane, I noticed solar panels in an opening, then drove up to a cabin surrounded by trees. “Wow you really live in the woods, don’t you? I said. “Yes, and off the grid. This is my Shangri la,” he said as we parked. “Cool,” I responded and looked up at the cabin and saw a light in the window. I grabbed my backpack and followed him up a path to the front door. When we entered, I felt the warmth of the wood stove and saw the glow of coals through the glass door. “How about if I make us some tea and I call George’s garage and let him know the story. He'll get you out.” He took off his wool hat, then got got some logs from the wood bin and threw them in the ...
    stove. I looked around the cabin at all the wood. It was just one room with a smaller side room, a kitchen area and a bathroom. A round oak table was by the window with his laptop on it, a few Begonia plants sat on the window sill. His bed was against one wall surrounded by windows. A maroon reclining chair was near the table with a reading lamp over it. “This is such a nice place,” I said as I walked around. “I never saw a wood ceiling,” I said, looking up. “That wood is over two hundred years old,” he said, putting water in the teapot. “I got it from an old barn they took down about fifteen years ago.” I took my down vest off and my wool hat and put it on the clothes pole he had near the door. “By the way, my name is Peter, what’s yours?” “Vicki. Short for Victoria.” “I guessed it was short for Victoria,” he laughed, glancing at my breasts then looked back at my eyes.“You don’t look very Victorian.” I was wearing a tight black turtle neck shirt and no bra—hate them and only wear one when I have to. My faded jeans were tight and I knew they looked good on me—especially with the boots. I can tell by the way guys look at me that they like what they see, and I could tell Peter liked what he saw. I have to admit, I like being sexy and I like to fuck, but I am particular and don’t let any guy get in my pants. While the tea water was heating up, Peter went to the phone and dialed the number. He waited for several minutes, glancing at me and seemed concerned.“No answer,” he sighed. ...
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