My schoolteaching career lasted only two years. In 1949, the Territory built a new schoolhouse, complete with flushing toilets and electric lights. Consequently, they were able to recruit qualified teachers and I was out of work, so I decided to go back to school myself. Since Jan was from Montana, and because Montana's climate is much like Alaska's I decided to go to school in Bozeman. However, a problem arose in Anchorage that required my personal attention. Lacking enough money for a plane ticket, I decided to drive my pickup over the Alcan highway (which had recently been opened to civilian traffic).
To defray part of my trip expenses, I put an ad in the local paper seeking a passenger. A woman answered. Judy was a reasonably attractive woman in her late 30s, early 40s (to me, at 23, she seemed almost ancient), who wanted to join her Army husband in Anchorage and was willing to pay her own travel expenses plus $200 for gas money. That seemed fair, so we bravely headed north.
We drove through several small Canadian towns in Alberta until we reached Pouce Coupe on the B.C. border. Three or four days had gone by, and all was going well. We were able to rent separate rooms at night, and our relationship remained a pleasant, business-like one.
We probably could have gone on to Dawson Creek, but darkness falls very early in the fall that far north; I was tired and besides, the road was little more than a dirt track, so we decided to hole up in Pouce Coupe for the night.
A rodeo or something was going on in town and the only hotel had just a single available room. I turned away from the desk and asked Judy what she thought we should do. She shrugged, so I rented the room, registering as Mr. & Mrs.
We had supper and walked around the town to stretch our legs. Then we trudged upstairs. There was only one bed in the room, and the bath was down the hall, so I returned to the lobby while Judy prepared for bed. After a decent 15-minute interval, I returned to the room. She was buried in the quilt, eyes closed. Thinking she was probably already asleep, I stripped down as I usually do, turned out the overhead light, and carefully slid into my side of the bed.
This was before the days of queen and kind sized beds or non-sag mattresses, and although I resolutely lay on my right side with my back toward her, it wasn't long before she rolled over, and I felt the seam on her bra cup scrape across my back. All thoughts of sleep instantly vanished. I suddenly had a huge, and very embarrassing, erection!
I lay quietly, hoping she would think I was asleep, and had begun to think she was, when her arm circled my body and she molded her body tightly to mine, spoon fashion. Involuntarily, I stiffened although I was still foolishly pretending to be asleep. My heart was pounding with excitement and my cock was almost painfully engorged, desperately in need of the hot, wet solace that I knew lay between her thighs.
Her hand absently caressed my chest and her fingers brushed my nipples. I could feel my body begin to quiver with suppressed need, when her hand drifted lower over my abdomen, "accidentally" brushing the tip of my foreskin, which instantly began to retract. "Oh, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I thought you were asleep. I'll turn over."
I almost came in that instant. While she energetically turned, a thousand conflicting thoughts raced through my fevered mind. On the one hand, I clearly remembered my 22nd birthday present with Helen in our first threesome. I also recalled the keen frustration I had felt when my planned seduction of Anisha collapsed. On the other hand, I had to recognize that there had been no flirting or suggestive behavior on her part and possibly she was speaking the truth; that she had thought I was asleep, and that any advances I now made would be highly improper.
While my mind was attempting to sort through this welter of Victorian morality, my body mindlessly followed hers, and I now rested on my left side, my right arm around her waist while my knees rested against the backs of her thighs. My swollen cock nudged against her panties in the crack of her ass.
We rested quietly this way for a few minutes. Then she took my hand and rested it on her bra. I was exploring the resiliency of her breast through the cloth, when she reached back and seized my cock.
"I don't think either of us is going to get much sleep as long as this thing is in bed with us," she said. "Let's take care of it."
She rolled over again so she was facing me while still holding my cock. "You're a good guy, Denny," she whispered. "We can't make a habit of this, but just this once, I don't see how it could hurt."
She turned away once again, and threw her covers back. Then, in the faint moonlight that was filtering through the window, I saw her sit up and reaching behind her, release the clasp on her bra, which she dropped on the floor by the side of the bed.
She then lay back and raised her hips, sliding her panties down her thighs. Next she rolled back toward me, this time, seeking my mouth with hers. Her lips were open and her tongue slid into my mouth. At first, I held her tightly, savoring the rich feel of her breasts, her warm skin and soft belly against me. I stroked her back and ass while I nibbled on her ear lobe and kissed (and licked) the side of her neck.
"I like to have my nipples pinched a little," she said. "Not too much; just so I can feel it."
Obediently, I sucked the nearest nipple into my mouth, scraping it gently against my teeth, while I tickled the other with the palm of my hand, before pinching and lightly twisting it. Her nipples were as engorged as my cock.
"Yessss, Denny, just like that."
