Miss Julie

(Author's foreword: John Lennon once said that there is no such thing as original rock-and-roll; that they were all just playing Chuck Berry's music. That says a little about how I feel about this story. This series of stories is based around some concepts and contains some plot constructions similar to a series of stories at literotica.com entitled "Marline Becomes A Slut," by regular contributor Linda_Jean.

Unlike some stories one reads at this site, this series stayed with me, germinated, grew and mutated into something similar, yet different. It soon became part of an increasingly elaborate sex fantasy. In short, it became an obsession, and over the course of about four days, it evolved in my mind pretty much whole, into the story that appears below, and in ensuing episodes.

I give all of the credit for inspiring me to finally sit down, write and submit these stories to Miss Linda Jean, whoever she is and wherever she is. Her grammar may not always be perfect, but she's got the wickedest imagination of any woman I've ever seen, and her stories are always hot. I tip my hat to her.

Jack_Straw)

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PART 1 OF 8

Chapter 1: Julie takes a trip

Julie Jasper bustled about her kitchen making sure her last-minute details were taken care of. Purse, road map, water, keys, and she was all set. She looked over to the table where her children, 14-year-old Brian and 13-year-old Emily, were eating Frosted Flakes, and to her mother-in-law, Maureen, who ate a bagel and drank a cup of coffee.

"OK guys, it's time for Mom to go. Y'all have fun with Gramma," she said. Then she scooped her kids to her side in a big 3-way hug, kissed their foreheads, gave Maureen a hug and turned toward the door. "I should be back Monday afternoon," Julie said as she walked out the door to the van. She glanced at the watch on her wrist, and it said 6:15 that early Friday morning. She backed the van out of the garage, then drove down the long driveway to their street, and away she went. By the time she returned she would be a completely different person.

Julie was nervous and excited about her trip. She was headed from her home in suburban Dallas to Kansas City for her sorority's annual convention. She was very active in her college sorority's alumnae association, and the convention was her one chance a year to get away from the house, away from Glenn, her husband, and the responsibilities of motherhood. It was the one indulgence separate of the marriage that Glenn allowed her in what was otherwise a pretty one-sided marriage. Glenn was an executive for a major oil company in Dallas, and he too was headed out of town, flying to California early this morning to meet with a corporate client, and to play several rounds of golf at Pebble Beach. She could have flown on her trip as well, but Julie hated to fly and drove whenever she could. Being out on the open road always gave her time to think and reflect on life.

Glenn was an excellent provider, but something was missing. Glenn was very self-absorbed and somewhat dense. He was wrapped up in his work, and when he wasn't wrapped up in work, he was wrapped up in sports, especially golf, which he played nearly obsessively. Beyond that, he was a decent man, a solid, conservative fellow, but she wasn't sure she had ever had a lot of passion for him, or him for her. The Jaspers were your average middle-class American family that year in April of 1997, when the events of this story take place, and she was just an average American housewife.

Julie had curly red hair, almost the color of bright, new rust, and she wore it very short in sort of a loose perm. She was a taller than average -- 5-10, maybe 5-11 -- with a lean athletic build, thanks to three workouts at the gym each week and slim, dancer's legs. She had a light tan, courtesy of an early spring with lots of sunshine in Big D, but her skin was fairly light, a sort of peach complexion that belied her years. Her hips weren't particularly wide, but she wasn't bony; her breasts were small, but she wasn't flat, about a 34B. A narrow, but open, face, a slender nose, and big, expressive brown eyes complemented her look.

Everyone who met Julie liked her. She was intelligent, pretty and possessed a quiet, unassuming personality. Problem was, she having trouble getting to know people in her neighborhood. Glenn had been transferred to Dallas the previous summer from Midland, where they had lived for six years. They had lived in a close neighborhood in Midland, but their new home was set back away from the other homes, which were similarly situated. Julie had had difficulty adjusting. She couldn't seem to get in with a group she liked, and the family had still not decided on a church, which had been unheard of before. Glenn was spending a lot of time on the road, and their sex life, never great, had declined to about once a month.

Sex had never been a big part of their lives together anyway, so Julie didn't think she missed it all that much. She and Glenn had met in college, at Baylor, when they were seniors. They had married right after graduation. Julie believed she was the only woman Glenn had ever been with, but she had had two boyfriends in college previously with whom she had been intimate. Well, there had been a third incident, but Julie had tried unsuccessfully to block that event out of her mind. In any case, since meeting Glenn, she had had no other lovers, and had no desire to have any other lovers.

Julie had grown up strait-laced and pure until her teens, and even then, she was pretty straight by the standards of the mid-1970s. She was the only child of a Baptist minister and his wife in a small Texas town, born in 1960. Her folks had called her a miracle, because she came late in their lives, after both were 40. Around the time she was 16, she began to loosen up a little. She started wearing jeans, shorts and t-shirts and listening to pop music. It was a modest rebellion, but it strained relations with her folks for a while.

It was also about that time that she learned a little bit about sex. A friend, Celia Daniels, was spending the night one time, and the subject of boys came up. Her friend made a comment about how one boy made her hot. Puzzled, Julie asked what she meant by, "hot." The friend had then explained how a girl got hot and wet between her legs when she was turned on sexually. That kind of talk always made Julie uncomfortable, but this time her curiosity had won out, and Celia had gone on to explain how a girl could give herself pleasure with her fingers.

Julie had finally changed the subject, but the thought lingered, and eventually she taught herself a mild form of masturbation. At the time, she had thought it was wrong, but about once a month, late at night on or about a full moon, she would always have these sexual dreams and she would have to frig herself for relief. Eventually they became waking sex fantasies, and she would often have to masturbate before she could get to sleep.

Needless to say, however, actually having sex was out of the question for her in high school. She had a reputation to uphold and she didn't want to upset her parents, especially since her dad had gotten sick with cancer. Her looks got her plenty of date offers, but she only had a few boyfriends in high school. Dates who tried anything sexual with her in high school never got a second chance to make that mistake, and eventually word spread that Julie Leary was a cold fish.

That changed some when she went off to Baylor, like a good little Texas Baptist. Although she excelled, academically and socially, it was difficult. Her father rapidly declined her freshman year and died right after Christmas, and money was tight. She was lonely and depressed, and it was then that she met her first "true love," a junior named Paul. They dated most of 1979, through the first semester of her sophomore year. He had been the one to initiate her into sex and had also introduced her to alcohol, something she had thought she'd never touch. But she had discovered that a couple of glasses of wine got her feeling romantic, and she liked the warm feeling it gave her. But her first love had fizzled out. Not long after that, she had met Greg, a senior. Julie thought she was in love with him, and, in fact, had decided to marry him, if he asked. So she had submitted to his sexual advances, and for a while they had had a rather intense affair, including a surreptitious trip to see him that Fourth of July, after he had graduated.

However, by the time she went back to school for her junior year, his ardor had cooled. Finally he had sent her a letter – a letter! – and broke off their relationship. Said he was accepting a job in New York, and he knew she wasn't ready to follow him, blah, blah, blah. Julie was crushed, and angry. What she did next scared her to death, and has a bearing on this story.

Greg's letter arrived on a Friday, before she and a sorority sister were driving to Austin the following day for a football game, Baylor against Texas. Amanda had pulled out a joint on the way to the game, and they had smoked it, Julie's first – and up to now, her only – time to try it. Amanda had also gotten a pint bottle of bourbon, and they had smuggled it into the game. Julie didn't like it at first, but after mixing it with soda, it wasn't bad, and by the end of the game, a big Baylor loss, they were about half-drunk. Amanda had gotten them into a wild post-game fraternity party, and they had gotten into the punch.

Julie had tried ever since to piece together the details of what she did after that, but all she knew for certain was that she woke up the next morning in someone's bed naked with two equally naked men crashed out on either side of her. Her entire crotch area was sore and wet with what she quickly realized was sperm. When it hit her what she had apparently done, she bolted out of bed, grabbed her clothes, then, as the hangover rush hit her, she had puked into the trashcan. Sick, angry and scared, she had managed to dress somewhat and had crawled into the bathroom, where she got sick again. That was where Amanda found her.

Amanda had gotten them back to Waco, and all the way back, she tried to remember what had happened, but all she knew was she had had sex with at least two men that she knew of that night, and who knows how many more. And she had fleeting memories of liking it a lot, and of initiating things. That shocked her, because even with Paul and Greg, she had played a very subservient role in sex, just laying back and taking it, wham, bam, thank ya', ma'am.

When she asked Amanda what she had done, all Amanda did was smile and say, "You were somebody I'd never met last night." But Amanda said she hadn't actually seen anything happen, just that Julie had gone up the stairs with two frat brothers, her blouse half-unbuttoned, and she hadn't returned to the party. Then she had hooked up with another brother and spent the night with him. Apparently, Julie must have impressed them, because they both went to a fair amount of trouble to find her and called her for a date, but she had hung up on them in embarrassment.

Realizing the real damage she could do to herself, she had recoiled from the party life and gotten back into the church. She had met Glenn at a BSU party, and he was the perfect gentleman, didn't drink, smoke or cuss, and he had a good future ahead of him. So what if he was a little stuffy and pompous. He represented security, and she latched onto it. She had graduated in 1982, and they had married that summer. She became a schoolteacher, then seven years before, when they moved to Midland, she had quit to become a full-time mother. It wasn't an exciting life, like the romantic stories she had read all her life, or the musical dramas she had performed in during high school and college. In fact, it could be downright boring, but at 37, she thought she was getting a little too old to be having adventures. She was just a housewife, plain and simple.

There were two areas where Julie was assertive, however, and that was in handling the family finances and in child-rearing. Making short ends meet in college had taught her well how to manage money, and as for the kids, she was a hands-on mom. Glenn, on the other hand, was fairly remote from his children, almost like they were in his way.

There had also been some other signs of what lay beneath the surface of this woman. She and Amanda had stayed friends, despite, or perhaps because, of their shared experience in Austin, and she had always given Julie a conspiratorial wink whenever they met for Homecoming. Julie had also spent years alternately trying to forget the incident and trying to recreate it in detail in her memory. She often used it as one of her sex fantasies when she masturbated, which was happening quite a bit more lately as the length of time between her and Glenn's sexual encounters became longer and longer.

There had also been the incident at Glenn's company's Christmas party in 1989, and the circumstances were similar to the previous one. Julie's mother had passed away that summer and they were facing an imminent move to Midland, where Glenn was getting a significant promotion. They were living in Slidell, La., at the time, and the atmosphere there is typical for Louisiana. She and Glenn both had recognized that in his field, liquor was seen as a social lubricant and a rising executive was expected to be a social animal. So Glenn had learned to drink modestly, beer only and never more than three at a party, while Julie had resumed her taste for white wine.

The Christmas party was at the top-floor ballroom of the Fairmont Hotel in New Orleans, and Glenn and Julie had a large room in the hotel. Somehow that night, in her melancholia, she had gotten into the Christmas punch, a vodka and champagne-based concoction. This time, however, she remembered most of what she did, and that was dance and flirt with practically every man at the party. Then she practically attacked Glenn in front of everybody, took him off downstairs to their room and they spent the rest of the night screwing like mad dogs. Glenn always said it was the best sex they'd ever had, but the sexual momentum they built that night had dissipated quickly. After giving it a lot of thought, Glenn decided that Julie's behavior was disturbing to what he considered the natural order of things, which was man on top, woman on bottom, the way God intended for it to be. And Julie gradually fell back into her shell of propriety along with him. It was a comfortable life she had with Glenn, but one that didn't allow her much self-expression.

That was why going to the convention was so important. She could mix with the girls she had gotten to know over the years, swap stories, have a few drinks together, stay up on their organization and get away from being wife and mom. For Julie, her conventions represented freedom and she cherished them.

Chapter 2: Julie is taken

She had gotten a very early start this day so she could be at her hotel by mid-afternoon. She would have to negotiate through the traffic of the large Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex, so she wanted to face that as early as possible. Still, it was slow going until she got through to the north side of the city about 8:30. She made good time through north Texas and into Oklahoma.

She was in the middle of nowhere, around 10 o'clock, when she noticed her gas gauge getting low. She had not wanted to stop in Dallas so she could get clear of the city, but now she had to. Finding a Shell station at the next exit, she pulled off the freeway and in to the station. It was one that still had a full-service side, and the kid who pumped her gas and checked her oil was a typical redneck-looking kid with grimy overalls. She had gotten out to stretch out and go to the bathroom. She paid the bill with her credit card and drove off back to the interstate. She never saw the gas station kid write down her license number, then pull out a cell phone and make a call.

"I've got you one coming, and she's a good one," he said into the phone. Then he described the woman who had just been there, what she was wearing and what she was driving. "Good. We'll keep a piece warm for you," was the reply. The kid put the phone away and licked his lips lasciviously and grinned as he stared down the highway. "Bitch, you don't know what you're getting into," he said out loud to the departed redhead.

It only took about 10 miles for the kid's handiwork to become evident. One minute, Julie was motoring along at 70, the next the dashboard lights came on, steam came pouring out of the radiator and the van began to lose power. To avoid an accident, she pulled all the way over on the shoulder and stopped. Then she pulled the hood lever and stepped outside to see what was the matter. Pulling open the hood, she backed away quickly as a cloud of steam poured past her head. Great, she thought, my one big trip of the year and now part of it is going to be spent at a mechanic's shop in Oklahoma.

Climbing back into the car, she looked into her console for her cell phone only to discover it missing. That's odd, she thought, she always had her phone with her, but then her attention was diverted by the welcome arrival of a police officer, a sheriff's deputy to be exact. The cop stopped behind her with his lights flashing, and got out to see if he could be of assistance. He was a young fellow in his late 20s, and very earnest looking. He looked around at her engine and declared the problem to be something he couldn't fix, but he could call a tow service from the next exit ahead.

He went back to his car and got on the radio, then came back out, told her the wrecker was coming, that it came from the truck stop at the next exit where there as an emergency repair shop. They chatted a few minutes, then he told her to wait in her car for the wrecker. He got back in his patrol car to sit and wait with her. Julie did as she was told, so she didn't see the cop squeeze his nuts to try to quell the raging hard-on he was getting at the thought of what this dishy, obviously innocent, society girl was about to undergo.

After about 20 minutes, the wrecker arrived from the north, passed them, made a u-turn, drove past the pair of stopped vehicles, then backed up to the disabled van. They all got out of their vehicles to discuss the matter, as interstate traffic whizzed by. The wrecker driver's name was Tony, as advertised on his shirt front, and he told Julie he thought they could get her fixed up by mid-afternoon, that it didn't look too serious. She said that would be fine. Julie was disappointed, but reassured herself that she would still be in KC before dark. After getting her van hitched up, the cop climbed back in his patrol car and took off, then Tony and Julie climbed into the cab of the wrecker and headed back onto the interstate.

As they drove north on I-35, Tony took a few sidelong glances at the woman sitting on the seat with him. She was dressed conservatively, but not prudishly so, a plain dark blue dress with short cuffed sleeves and below-the-knee-length skirt with a belted waist. She had nice long legs encased in pantyhose that ended in a pair of blue flats. Everything about her said she was an innocent housewife, the kind they liked.

Julie also looked over at the driver and saw a handsome fellow of around 30, about 6 feet tall with sandy blond hair just beginning to go gray. They chatted as they drove, and Tony learned a few things about her in the process. After about 10 miles, they came to the next exit and got off the interstate. Julie expected the truck stop to be right at the exit, but it wasn't. Instead he turned to the east and they drove for several miles in that direction.

Julie was starting to get apprehensive when she saw the large complex looming ahead off to the right as they approached a major intersection. As they approached, Julie looked around in no small amount of wonder. She had never seen a place like the Davis Truck Stop. A large, open piece of property was dominated by a combination gas station/convenience store/diner in one two-story building, with the mechanic's shop at the corner of the lot. Behind the main building, there appeared to be a row of tall cedar trees fronting a high wooden fence that ran along the back of the building. Just to the south, fronting the intersecting road, stood a low, narrow building that appeared to be a nightclub of some kind.