I would rather have been somewhere else, anywhere else, but definitely not trudging along the side of this road in the pouring rain. I'd left Montreal an hour earlier and was now heading south on Highway 15, making for the US border at Blackpool, Quebec. If I was very, very lucky, I'd get a lift before I got to the border, which would make the crossing that much easier, at least, that's what I'd thought an hour ago. Now I was just dripping wet and moving on automatic pilot. As I heard a vehicle come, my arm, with thumb extended, would swing out until it had passed, and would then swing back down, all without breaking stride.
Another half an hour passed before a bright red Kia Rio with New York plates pulled in to the side of the road in front of me, right blinker flashing. I increased my pace, opened the passenger door and practically dived in, out of that miserable rain. "Thanks for stopping," I gasped "I've been feeling more and more like a drowned rat for several miles now. I'm heading for Boston, but anywhere south of here will be just fine."
The driver, a very pretty woman of about my own age, with long black hair, smiled at me, "I can take you as far as Swanton, Vermont. You can pick up Interstate 89 there, that'll take you south to Interstate 93, then Boston. Too easy."
We settled back into the ride, crossed the border with no problem and introduced each other. I'm Ritchie, a twenty-two year old grad student at McGill in Montreal, studying psychology, but on a sabbatical for a year to get my bearings. Sue, who lived in New York, had inherited a house just outside Swanton from her grandparents, and as it was on Lake Champlain, had taken a year off work to just relax in the country.
It wasn't far to Swanton, but by the time we got there it was not only beginning to get dark, but was raining harder than ever, simply bucketing down. "That settles it!" exclaimed Sue. "Unless you have a good reason not to, you're coming to stay with me tonight, and I'll drive you to the 89 on-ramp first thing tomorrow morning. I have a spare room and you're very welcome to use it, if that's alright with you?"
"It is as long as it doesn't put you out, or cause you any problems." I replied eagerly. "The thought of getting back out into this was beginning to worry me."
"You won't cause me any problems, Ritchie. I live a little more than a mile outside the village, far enough that no-one will see us. And in any case, what business is it of theirs!"
"As long as it's alright then I welcome your offer, Sue. I can't believe how nasty it is out there. I don't want to be there!" I replied with a laugh.
The house turned out to be a beautiful, one-story cottage, on the east bank of Lake Champlain, right on the water. We pulled into the drive, I leaped out to open the garage door, hey I was already soaked through, and Sue drove in. I found the light switch, turned it on and closed the door, shutting out the hammering rain. We entered the cottage through the door from the garage, by which time I was shivering almost uncontrollably. My last dash through the rain had made me realize just how cold I really was, and I needed to get warm quickly before hypothermia set in.
"Sue, I have to have a shower. Is your hot water system on?"
"It should be." she replied. "the bathroom's first door on the left, I'll get you a couple of towels."
The bathroom was larger than I'd expected, with a tub and, hallelujah, a separate shower. I took my rucksack in with me for clean, dry clothes, stripped off my cold, wet clothes, turned on the shower with shaking hands and within minutes was standing, still shivering, in a drenching spray of hot water which filled the room with steam
I heard the door open. "Ritchie!" Sue called through the wall of steam. "I've left a couple of towels on the sink and there's a robe hanging behind the door. Don't hurry. I've turned the furnace on and the heat's coming up."
I stayed in the shower for about half an hour and by the time I came out was red and wrinkled. But warm! The towels were thick, the robe a thick terry towel and delightfully comfortable. I was back in the land of the living!
Sue was right, the central heating had made the cottage comfortable and livable, and she had lit a fire that was crackling in the grate, beginning to throw out waves of heat, so when I entered the living area, I collapsed into an oversize recliner and stretched out, still bothered by the odd shiver, I had been so chilled. The shower hadn't cleared my chill completely, and in spite of the warmth of the living room, it would take a while until I was totally warm.
"I bet a hot chocolate would go down well, about now, Ritchie!" exclaimed Sue, as she came up to me with two steaming mugs. I took one, curls of steam rising from it, while Sue placed hers on the end table between my chair and a second recliner, in which she sat. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a fifth of Jack Daniels and poured a healthy slug into each mug. "I didn't ask, but you look as if you need it." she grinned.
I sipped my chocolate and felt the warmth spreading down inside me and all around my body. "Sue, that was a life saver." I smiled at her. "I don't think I've ever been so cold, and living up here, I've been cold a lot of times."
"What on earth made you hitchhike in this weather, and so late in the day?" asked Sue.
"Today was my last day of classes." I replied. "They didn't finish until noon so by the time I'd had something to eat, gotten over the Champlain bridge and down to Highway 15, it was getting on for three. And then it started to rain, and rain, and rain. There was no shelter so I just had to stand there and suck it up. When you stopped, I was just about at the end of my rope. You have no idea how grateful I was, and am."
"You're very welcome, Ritchie. I just couldn't bear to see you standing there in the pouring rain, dripping." Sue had been watching me as we spoke and appeared to be liking what she saw, liking it very much. I'm one meter eighty-eight tall, eighty-two kilos, blue eyed, blond haired, clean shaven and am considered not bad looking.
I, meanwhile, had been sneaking glances at Sue since I came in from the shower, and now that I was back in the land of the living, was noticing just what a beautiful woman she was, dressed, as she was, in a tight, pale blue polo shirt and faded jeans. The black hair and pretty face I had noticed earlier, but her petite size, about one meter sixty, slim build, and what looked like B-cup breasts had not registered Now they did, and despite my best efforts I felt a stirring in my groin and noticed that the robe over my cock had moved a little. 'Down boy!' was the urgent message I sent to my cock. 'This is neither the time nor the place!'
