I grew up in small town America, very small town in fact. Our population was less than one thousand, way less. A few historic buildings and only one stoplight gave our main street a touch of small town charm. The kind of charm that attracted much needed tourists to boost the local economy.
Nestled in a remote valley, the tiny town was surrounded by small family run farms. These farms melted into foothills that quickly became mountains rich with valuable timber.
Most locals who didn't farm worked as loggers or in the sawmill just outside of town. The hard physical labor required for these jobs added a rough and tumble element to balance the town's charm. Excessive alcohol consumption, cheating lovers, and bar brawls were common.
Rumors were spread as often as strawberry preserves, most untrue and all exaggerated. Everyone knew everybody else by nickname and were often related in some way. The typical town drunk and a sheriff everyone called by first name added the complete Mayberry effect.
Crimes like theft and robbery were unheard of and most people didn't bother to lock their cars or houses. It was a secluded and simple life, far from the big cities, where country people worked hard and played hard.
A two lane highway became main street at town limits then went back to being itself at the opposite town limit on its meandering journey. Tourists, travelers, and anyone passing through must have thought they had somehow stepped back in time.
We often overheard outsiders refer to us as country bumpkins, red necks, hill billies, or unintelligent, inbred, hicks. In fairness, those assumptions were generally correct to some degree when it came to the locals, myself included.
My family was large and we were poorer than most people. The small farm we had was managed ignorantly by my stepfather who lied as often as he was lazy. Chores kept my siblings and I busy before and after school and we didn't go to town very often. Sports and sleepovers with friends weren't possible and I was mostly a loner.
I finished school and took a job at a gas station in town as an attendant. It wasn't much but it allowed me to get a small apartment of my own and eventually a used car. I gave my mother any money I could to help my family make ends meet.
I often took lunch at the corner deli, the only deli in fact, where Jessica made good sandwiches. I knew her from school and soon found myself asking her out on a date. The movie theater had once again just opened under new ownership and I took her there on a Friday night.
Jessica was a looker with blond hair and green eyes. Having been involved in gymnastics most of her young life she was rewarded with the firm butt and muscled thighs like those of Olympic gymnasts on television.
We had graduated together and even though Jessica was eighteen, she still lived with her parents, thus obligated to follow their rules. She was not allowed to go to my apartment. Her curfew was extended until midnight however which made some sexual things in my car possible when parked atop lookout hill.
Seeing animals mate on the farm gave me some idea of how things went sexually. During our progressive make out sessions Jessica seemed to have an understanding of how sex happened as well. The truth of the matter however, is we were a couple of clueless kids who were not prepared in any way to engage in sex on the night we lost our virginity to each other.
I never had a male role model and sex was not talked about in those days except to discourage it. Even by age eighteen I didn't have a clue about the birds or the bees. I wont go into details of that night with Jessica, it was traumatic for both of us and messy as hell. It was the last time we dated as well.
It was painfully clear to me that my inexperience would be a problem when I attempted to have sex again. This realization was weighing heavily on my mind just as I encountered my next opportunity.
Compounding matters, it was with a woman more than twice my age. A hungry cougar that loved to dominate and devour young men in the filthiest ways possible. My sexual education was about to take a very giant leap.
The gas station where I worked was owned by an old man most knew only as crabby Cecil. Resistant to both change and technology his station was still full service just like most stations had been years ago throughout the country.
When a motorist pulled up to the pump the attendant would ask how much fuel they desired. While the tank was filling, the attendant would check air pressure in the tires, then raise the hood and check the engine oil. Lastly the attendant would clean the windshield before telling the driver what was owed and collect payment.
Cecil was a cranky old bastard but we managed to make things work between us. I like to think I was promoted to station manager after only three months because of my work ethic. However it could have been the case that a high turnover rate in a small town left no other candidates.
My duties increased far more than my pay did, but it was a move upward. The amount of paperwork was a full days work by itself at times but I quickly became more efficient. I continued to do the duties of attendant, pumping fuel, checking tire pressure and cleaning windshields because some days were so slow, I ran the station alone.
One afternoon an unfamiliar car pulled in and waited at the pump. The new kid I hired was fixing a flat tire in the shop so I took the customer for him. I approached the drivers window and was greeted by an attractive, middle aged woman. Her smile was both infectious and seductive as I asked her what she needed.
She was an exotic beauty dripping with sex appeal beyond belief. Just like the women in the magazines and movies I had recently viewed. Soon after the disaster that night with Jessica, I drove an hour each way to the next town along the highway. I purchased some pornographic magazines and videos at a liquor store hoping to get more educated sexually.
I admit, I also planned to masturbate as I learned and I made much progress with both goals despite my initial shock. Seeing nude people saying and doing such blatant sexual things without shyness or modesty was unbelievable at first.
Soon however the erotic scenes aroused me more than the nights I had fingered Jessica's tight virgin hole in the rear seat of my car, in total darkness. Feeling the wetness and heat as her lips swelled with arousal made me want to taste her but she adamantly refused simply because she was shy.
Looking at this erotic, older woman at my station in a tight, short, dress stirred my lust more than anything or anyone ever before. Her smooth olive skin was flawless and sensual. The wavy black hair falling past her shoulders contrasted sharply with perfect white teeth when she smiled. But what really grabbed me and made my knees feel weak were her eyes.
Eyes that were neither blue or gray but somehow both and had the sharpness of a raptors. Her voice, purring only four words with possible double meaning actually caused my swelling cock to twitch sharply as she said, "Fill me up please."
