School was out at 3:30, track practice finished at 5:30. I was hitching about twenty minutes after practice, had my thumb out for about ten minutes when a newish tan Dodge convertible stopped beside me. “Where are you going?” the driver asked.“Burling Road,” I said.“Hop in.”The driver was probably in his late 30s to early 40s. He was a tall, dark haired man with a large Adam’s apple ... fairly skinny and light complected. He was dressed in white shirt, dark suit pants and a bow tie which many businessmen wore at the time. His suit jacket was laid neatly across the back seat. Cars at the time didn’t have bucket seats up front so the driver’s seats stretched all the way across with no divider, same as the back seat. There were no seat belts at the time. Most cars were standard shift with the gearshift on the steering column.When the car started, we made a little conversation for the first half mile or so, just something that would usually make two strangers more comfortable with each. .Just after three in the morning, we left the club in the company of Jeff who'd promised us a lift home in his car. Jeff's two mates stood disconsolately together at the disco's door watching us depart; the three of them had been eyeing us girls up ever since that T-Shirt competition and while Jeff had struck lucky with Sam - who swung both ways - Jenny and I had proved to be a disappointment to the other lads as we made the depth of our feelings for each other as well as our general disinterest in males clear to the boys. Now the car was travelling down the darkened country lane that meandered its way through the deserted landscape towards the small village where we girls all shared a flat while working at the local so-called Country Hotel. The car was moving rather slowly because Jeff was somewhat distracted from his driving by two factors, the main one of which was that, several miles previously, Sam had unzipped his jeans, pulled his cock out and was now busily giving him a.
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