Country Roads

Mrs. Rose called me a late bloomer because I was nineteen and still hadn't learned to drive. I had my permit, but cars seemed scary. All my friends had their licenses, so I felt like I didn't need to learn.

But Mrs. Rose said I must. She drove a pick-up truck and claimed driving was the key to a woman's independence.

And Mrs. Rose was by far the most independent woman I'd ever met. My grandparents lived way out in the country, and Mrs. Rose was their neighbour. She'd always told me to call her Jan (since she'd never been married and wasn't a "Mrs." at all) but my grandparents were sticklers for formality. They didn't think it proper to call a woman her age "Miss."

So "Mrs. Rose" it was, and Mrs. Rose she stayed.

I don't think she was actually as old as the lines around her eyes suggested. I couldn't tell if her hair was white or blonde—she always wore that sun-bleached straw hat, so it was hard to get a good look. I'd gone to her place to buy snap peas from her garden, but we got talking about driving, and soon she was set on teaching me.

Since I couldn't imagine learning in her big old pick-up, we walked back to my grandparents' property. My grandma reluctantly allowed us borrow her Toyota. Sure I was scared to learn, but I'd always heard it was easiest on country roads. Less traffic than in the city. Also, there was something about Mrs. Rose that made me feel safe. If we broke down or whatever, she'd know what to do.

I was so nervous when I started the engine that I thought I might pee my pants. I couldn't remember which was the gas and which was the brakes, and no matter what I did, I second-guessed myself. I felt so dumb.

But Mrs. Rose kept telling me I was doing fine.

Thank goodness there was no traffic on the arrow-straight country road. I would have wet myself for sure if I saw a car coming at me.

The more I drove, the better I felt about it, until we came to a four-way stop and there were other cars. Oh no! My legs shook so hard Mrs. Rose set one hot hand over my naked thigh, right under the hem of my short shorts.

Lightning shot through me, and all at once my nipples were so hard they hurt. The day had been so hot I hadn't worn a bra, and I stole a glance down to see if it was obvious. Oh God, it was! My nipples were pointy and stiff as pencil erasers, urging through the clingy jersey of my sleeveless top.

Out of the corner of my eye, I checked to see if Mrs. Rose had noticed how hard my tits were. Would you believe she was staring right at them? Right at them! Her fingers pressed into the tan flesh of my thigh and I didn't know what to do. My pussy started to pulse, that traitor, and I told myself the impulse was purely physical, just a response to a stimulus. I couldn't possibly be sexually attracted to Mrs. Rose, with her crow's feet and sundrenched skin.

Could I?

A car behind me honked, and I started through the intersection without looking. There was a car coming at me from the left, and I looked down at my feet, searching for the brake. Mrs. Rose grabbed the wheel, still digging her fingers into my thigh, and when she told me to floor it, I sailed through that intersection.

I kept driving, way faster than the speed limit. I wasn't even looking. I didn't care. I just wanted to get away from the car that had honked. I was so embarrassed.

But my body embarrassed me too, with its impulses, its throbbing arousal. No matter how fast I drove, I couldn't get away from that, just like I couldn't get away from Mrs. Rose's hand on my thigh.

She told me to slow down and I said I wanted to stop. I started shouting, hyperventilating almost. I pleaded with her to tell me how, tell me where I could pull over.

Relenting, she guided me into a sandy strip that looked like a driveway but didn't go anywhere. I stormed from the car because my body was full of energy. The grasses had grown high beyond our makeshift parking space, and I chopped at them with both hands.

When Mrs. Rose appeared behind me, I didn't even notice until her hands were on my shoulders, holding me steady. She told me it was all right, no harm done. I'd driven very well for my first time. I didn't believe that for a second, but her touch reignited the pulse I'd felt before.

Turning around, I hugged Mrs. Rose. The earthy aroma of her oversized linen shirt filled my head. She wore an apron in the garden, but not now. Just the shirt and capri-length khakis. When I pressed my body into hers, I could feel that she wasn't wearing a bra either. Her breasts felt soft and comforting, and an urge came over me to suckle.

I shook that idea from my head. It seemed way too weird or incestuous or something. Not that Mrs. Rose was family, but I'd known her since I was a kid and she was probably almost my grandmother's age. Just...weird.

Holding me tight, she whispered into my ear that she'd noticed how I'd grown. Grown how? I wondered about that, but I didn't ask. Did she mean that we were the same height now? Or was she talking about my long tan legs, or my hips, or my breasts?

She was smelling my hair. My skin tingled.

It was obvious what would happen by the way she held me, running her fingers down my back. I didn't know if I wanted it, but my body knew. My pussy throbbed so hot I was surprised it hadn't burned a hole in my shorts. My nipples felt like they'd had ice cubes pressed against them—not cold, just very, very hard.

She asked me outright if I'd ever been with another woman. I was shocked by the question, or more by the fact that she'd posed it in such a forthright way. No. Never. My friend Hunter kissed me on the lips in Grade Seven, but that was nothing salacious. I'd never been with a boy, either. Only kisses. They called me a tease because they liked my body. They wanted it, lusted after it, but they couldn't have it.

I don't think she believed I was a virgin, but why waste time convincing her? Instead, I bent my head back a little so my hair fluttered against her fingers. She still had her straw hat on, and the blazing sunlight filtered through the holes in it like little slices of heaven. Her smile was bright and generous, but her eyes were dark with lust. It followed me like a wolf, always hungry, always wanting a bite, a lick, a drop of blood.

She wanted me, and I gave myself to her.

It wasn't my mouth that she kissed. She went for my neck, attacking it, nipping and licking. My knees started to tremble. There was something overpowering about her. She was slim like me, but stronger. When she held my arms, I didn't struggle. I looked up at the glints of sunlight slicing through her hat, and I surrendered.

I was so turned that my legs refused to hold me upright. Mrs. Rose grabbed the hem of my top and pulled it over my head as I fell to my knees. There I was, naked from the waist up, bathing in sunlight. I looked down at my bare breasts, and so did she. My nipples were so hard they'd nearly turned red.

There was a noise like a growl from the back of Mrs. Rose's throat, and I could feel her attraction like an impending storm.

She set my top on the front of my grandmother's car and yanked me up by the armpits. I unbuttoned my shorts, and unzipped them without waiting for her to give the instruction. Sure I was a virgin, but I knew desire—my own, and Mrs. Rose's.

When I stepped out of my flip-flops and shorts, sunburnt grass stung my soles. I threw down my thong. Mrs. Rose seemed to appreciate the look. Or maybe it was my pussy she admired. I'd shaved it the day before, because we'd gone to the beach and I wanted to wear my itty bitty bikini. Maybe Mrs. Rose would have liked me in that bathing suit. I suddenly wished I could show her. I wanted to pose for her like a pin-up model. I wanted to dance for her, and strip. I wanted to please her.

She told me to hop up on the hood of the car, and I did. The sizzle blazed through my top, and I was glad I'd put my flip-flops back on before setting both feet on the fender. There I was, utterly naked, pussy shaven, and sunbathing on my grandmother's car. I opened my legs, and Mrs. Rose dove between them.

My thighs first. She kissed all the way from my knees. It was such a devilish tease I wanted to smack her, but I also wanted her to tease me. I liked it. I liked that she didn't give me everything I wanted right away.

Mrs. Rose let out a wonderful noise, a hum of enjoyment. She told me my pussy smelled divine. As she parted my shaved lips, I pressed my palms against the sizzling car. When she got a look at the pink of me, she licked her lips. Her hat slid down the back of her head, giving me a clear view of her face. In the summer sun, her skin glowed. She looked gorgeous, more beautiful than any woman in any magazine.

I loved the way she stared at my pussy, with worship and adoration. I'd never felt so wanted. When she inched forward between my legs, I held my breath. I knew this was going to feel amazing, oh yes. And when she licked my pussy, really slow, teasing my flesh, I trembled on the hood of that car.

The day was hot, but her tongue felt hotter. It blazed against my clit like liquid fire. She'd obviously done this before.

My nipples strained naked in the heat. I wanted to play with those rosy buds, but I knew the second I took my hands off the car I'd slide down and tumble to the burnt grass. So I watched Mrs. Rose through the valley of my perky breasts. I watched her eat my wet little pussy in rapture, like it was the sweetest thing she'd ever tasted in her life.

Every so often she looked into my eyes. Sometimes she arched high enough that I could see down the front of her oversized blouse. I saw her breasts, and they were fuller and more luscious than I'd expected. Now I really wanted to suckle them, even if that was super-fucked up and crazy.

I pushed my pussy against her lips, rolling my hips to stroke off on her face. My straining bud grew fat and red as a cherry. She took it in her mouth and sucked, pulling on my tender flesh with her lips. I went wild, thrashing on the hood of the Toyota. It was too much and still not enough. I writhed so hard Mrs. Rose took hold of my thighs and held them steady as she sucked between my legs.

In the distance, I heard the approaching whoosh of a car, and I stiffened. What if they saw me naked with Mrs. Rose's head between my legs? What would they think? Oh God!

I heard the vehicle whiz by, but I didn't turn in time to see it. Hopefully they didn't see us either. That's what I told myself, and the relief freed me up enough to surrender. My orgasm had been sitting like a beast in my belly. It attacked me, raging through my bones, making me flop on the car like a fish out of water. I screamed and swore. Hopefully nobody heard me. I didn't think there were any houses nearby, but you never know who's out and about.

Mrs. Rose licked my clit until I couldn't take any more. It felt amazing, but the pleasure was too extreme. It coursed through me like lava, and that was wonderful, but her mouth on my pussy made me loopy. She sucked, sucked, sucked until my clit felt huge and hard and tender. I screamed, and she backed away, watching my naked body come to grips with its first sexual experience.

When I'd drifted toward a blissful sundrenched sleep, Mrs. Rose read my mind and unbuttoned her blouse. I eased forward and sank into the splendour of her breasts, suckling one and then the other. Her breasts were warm and her nipples hard. I sucked them with my eyes closed, feeling heat all around me, smelling the earth on her clothes.

After she'd buttoned up and I'd dressed in my top and shorts, we sat in the hot car. We didn't do or say anything, just sat together until the stifling heat became too much to bear. She started the engine and drove us back to my grandparents' place. Good thing. I wasn't in any condition to drive after that amazing orgasm.

As she waved goodbye to my grandparents, who were sitting on the veranda when we got home, Mrs. Rose offered to take me out again the next day.

I took her up on it, of course. I had a lot to learn.