Jen a Girl a Car a Road getting Her Kicks on Route 66Chapter 10
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Jen: A Girl, A Car, A Road-getting Her Kicks On Route 66Chapter 3 free porn video
The four lane version of 66 was much better for Miss Swifty. The two lane version was much more suited to the cars of the 20s through the 50s or 60s what with its narrow, nine foot lanes and other impediments to high speed.
I breezed on down through Braidwood to Dwight at seventy-seven miles past Go. For one ten mile stretch, Miss Swifty was running at well over one hundred miles an hour. YaHoo! Go Swifty, go!
It was a good thing I didn't see any state patrols during that little run. At Dwight, I exited the four lane and drove into town. Although I was no longer interested in the formal classroom, you might have surmised by now that I'm very interested in history and historical sites.
That's the reason that I spent a very considerable amount of time in pre-trip research and study. I had routes planned, historic places to see, historic places in which I wanted to eat, and background history/information on all of these and more. All this I typed up in notes that I planned to accompany me on my odyssey.
Dwight? you ask. That's just a wide spot in the road in the middle of the corn and soybean fields of the Illinois prairie, isn't it? What history of interest can you find there?
Well, there's a bit more about Dwight than just a wide spot in the road, but it would take a book to tell all of it. I wouldn't have known otherwise and would have agreed with you had it not been for my sorority sister, Beth Anne, at Bradley my freshman year. She grew up in Dwight and never lost a chance to brag about her home town and its slogan, Not Just A Bump In The Road.
I really wanted to drive past and gawk at, the Dwight Correctional Center--the one for Women. It's the only such prison for women in Illinois. So I drove out west of town on State Route 17 a ways to go take a look. However, I had no desire to go inside the walls.
Opened in November of 1930, on one hundred acres of ground, the institution was originally known as Oakdale Reformatory and later, more popularly as the Dwight Reformatory. Although designed for 800 plus inmates, like most prisons, it is usually overcrowded well above that number.
After I snapped a few pictures of the gray, foreboding walls, I returned to town. I took some pictures of two famous Route 66 gas stations in town, among other sites.
As I drove on to the First National Bank Building, I noticed a young, washed out looking woman standing near the building corner. I parked across the street and took some pictures of the building with both my Polaroid camera and my Leica 35 mm slide camera. The young woman was in one of the Polaroid shots and one or more of the Leica shots.
Finished, I got back into Miss Swifty and drove over to the famous Keeley Institute building to take more pictures. It was once one of the first alcohol treatment centers East of the Mississippi. As I drove back to main street, I again spotted that same young woman, listlessly walking toward me on the other side of the street.
She sure seems to be an odd duck.
I drove around until I located Renfrew Park and got out to take some more pictures. The park was named after a Prince of Wales who once visited the area to hunt pheasants. He followed his mother, Queen Victoria, to the throne in 1901.
I was about to get back into Swifty when I noticed that same young woman again. She was sitting on a park bench, bent over slightly forward, and weeping quietly. I stared at her for a few moments.
The woman looked to be late twenties or early thirties, medium tall, washed out dishwater blonde, with a very pale complexion, drab clothes, and who gave off a general air of defeatism.
What the hell, what's to lose?
Looking both ways first, I walked over across the street to her.
As I walked up, she snarled, What the hell do YOU want?
It was quite obvious the unspoken last word of her exclamation was, bitch.' I stood silent for a moment, until she said, Well, bitch?
I've seen you around town this afternoon and now here. I just wanted to see if you were ok.
Well, Miss nosey, I damn well ain't and what the hell business is it of yours anyway, how I feel. And why the fuck you takin' my picture? I saw you takin' it, just before you got in that pretty little car of yours.
My reply sounded a little flat, but I said, I wasn't taking your picture--I was taking a picture of the bank building. It's one of only three banks designed by a very famous man by the name of Frank Lloyd Wright.
So who the fuck cares about Frank Floyd. You took my picture and I don't like that!
I let the name error go, she wasn't interested anyway. I rummaged around in my camera bag that I'd automatically slung over my shoulder when I got out of Miss Swifty, pulled out the offending Polaroid, and gave it to her.
Here, take it. As you can see, it's difficult to make out your face as I was pretty far away in order to get the whole building framed in the picture.
I didn't tell her I had several more shots on my slide camera.
She looked at the picture, said Humph, as she stuck it in her blouse pocket. So whatcha starin' at now? she demanded.
Sorry, I said, I was just wondering what happened to make you look so sad and unhappy. That's all. My name is Jen, what's yours?
Jules, she said, what's it to you?
Jeeze, I answered, I was just trying to be human and helpful, for God's sake.
Yeah? Well we don't get much of that where I come from, that's for sure!
And where DO you come from? I asked.
The pen, lady, better known as Dwight Reformatory. Been there ten years to the day as of today.
I asked, naively, Didn't you get time off for good behavior?
Her curt reply was, My behavior wasn't good!
Oh.
Yeah, was her reply again.
What got you in there for that long?
Several accessory charges to a couple of burglaries--not to mention a nasty attitude in court.
By then, it was late afternoon, so I asked, I'm getting hungry, would you like something to eat? I'll buy.
Yeah, Jules said, I ain't had nothin' but that prison slop they call food. Shit on a shingle' for lunch today just before they kicked me out.
That sounds yucky, to say the least. Come on, get in the car and we'll go get a bite.
I drove to The Mansion. On the way, Jules said, Cute car. Didn't know they made one like this.
No, I said, I suppose not. You've been away a while. Ten years ago, they made the first one of these and it looked nothing like this one. It didn't even have a V-8 in it, just an in line six cylinder, souped up a little, but a six banger none-the-less.
We arrived and I parked Swifty in the lot.
The light is still good enough, I said, I want to take a couple of pictures first and then we can go in.
I got some snaps of The Mansion, the grounds, the carriage house and, of course, the phallic-like water tower. The grounds and buildings were and are another historic Dwight site. At one time, it was the home of John Oughton who was, among other things, the partner of Dr. Keeley.
Ok, I'm done, let's go in, I'm starved.
It was early enough in the evening that we got by without reservations. When a waiter appeared, I asked for a glass of wine and coffee and Jules ordered whiskey with a beer chaser. Her first one didn't last long and when the waiter returned to take our order, she immediately asked for another.
I ordered Chicken Cordon Bleu with corn, mashed potatoes, and a tossed salad with blue cheese dressing. Jules ordered T-bone steak, medium, mashed potatoes, and succotash. She skipped the salad/soup choice.
As we ate, I coaxed her story out of Jules.
Ahhh, she said, it was that damned bastard I was living with at the time. He was a small time crook, trying to get into the big league. He didn't have what it took, but he didn't know that. He was into sticking up liquor stores and such.
You knew what he was doing?
Shit yes. He made me drive the fucking car. It wasn't that I hated the job so much, I just knew he wasn't goin' much further in his career than where he was. On our last job before we got caught, I ran down a small kid with the car in our hurry to get away--the liquor store owner was shootin' at us.
Wow, I said, were either of you hit? Was the child hurt?
Yeah, Billy Boy was hit hard. I heard the thud of the the bullet and his grunt. I looked over at him and saw all the blood and ran into a damned telephone pole in the process!
Billy Boy died before the ambulance got there. I was in the hospital a month with injuries from the crash. Then it was jail, trial, and that hell hole I just got out of.
What happened to the child you hit?
The kid caught a glancing blow and got a broken arm and was unconscious for three days. Lucky for me she survived--there were manslaughter charges waiting for me if she hadn't.
I was silent for a bit and then asked, What are your plans now?
Got none. Jules answered. The state gave me this outfit I'm wearing cause they had to burn what I was wearin' when I went in, twenty-five bucks, and said Hit the road, sister.' I got no family, no kin, no job, nowhere to go. Where's twenty-five bucks going to take me and how long will it feed me as well? I don't see I got much choice but to sell my ass.
Oh, surely you can find something other than that to do!
Yeah? she asked, using her favorite expression, like what?
Well, you could waitress or something!
Shit, lady, I ain't even got a high school education. That lets out an awful lot of jobs. Waitressing won't fucking work either. I'd piss off a customer in two minutes flat, not to mention the boss a minute later. I don't take orders or being ordered around very well.
Our bill came. I paid with my brand new plastic credit card. Those things are common place now, but they were just being issued in the middle and late sixties. Mine came in the mail, just like today, and the bank cheerfully asked in the letter for an application, if I would really like to have one.
Obviously, I said yes. After signing the credit card slip, I said to Jules, It's getting late in the day. How bout if I get us a motel room. We can talk and maybe we can come up with something for you. At least you'll have a place to stay for the night.
Jules wanted to hit a bar or bars, but I vetoed that as a bad idea for just then. I rented us a double bed room in a nearby motel from an old witch of a woman at the desk who was not terribly happy to rent to two single women.
Jules had only the clothes on her back, so she stripped to her bra and panties, To get comfortable, she said. Jules filled out that bra quite nicely, I thought.
I was still in my shorts and tube top, so I kicked off my sandals and we then spent a lot of time talking, but came up with no real answers to Jules' problems. We eventually reached a point where we had talked it about as far as we were going to take it and, after a short period of silence, Jules said she wanted to watch a movie. She called the desk to get the price for a movie and a small projector on which to show it.
So I used my credit card to get her set and picked the movie and projector from the front desk. Jules sat in the recliner chair and I sat on the edge of the bed as the movie started. The movie Jules picked out was a skin flick and the action started out hot and heavy from the very beginning. It was a grainy film, but passable.
During a hot lesbian scene that followed a number of hot fuck and suck sessions, Jule's right hand dropped between her legs and she moaned in a low growl as her fingers got busy over her panties on her pussy. It wasn't long and I too had my hand under my shorts, rubbing my bare pussy.
As the women in the lesbian scene reached their climax, Jules exclaimed, Oh, SHIT! and rose from the recliner to walk over to me.
When she reached me on the bed, she pushed me down on my back and ripped my shorts down and off before I could blink. She was so aggressive that the word rape came to mind. The saving factor was that I was only too willing to let her have her way with me.
Jules dove head first into my already wet and dripping pussy and proceeded to give me a tongue lashing I wouldn't soon forget. She had a talented tongue indeed. She used both hands to spread open my pussy. She licked up and down my exposed slit with abandon. While she used her mouth and one hand on my clit--licking, sucking, and biting me to ecstasy, she used the fingers of her other hand to invade my love canal.
I couldn't help it, I couldn't hold back any longer. I was so aroused by the movie and then her mouth work on me that I shook and shivered, while drooling ever more pussy cum on Jule's face and fingers.
She was in a frenzy of lust as she increased the tempo of her licking and finger fucking to near warp speed. I suddenly spasmed into a hard, wracking orgasm. Jules, finally looked up, grinned, and offered me her fingers, soaked in my cum, for me to lick and suck. I eagerly took them into my mouth and did just that.
Jules quickly slipped out of her bra and soaked panties, climbed on the bed beside me, and rolled me on top of her.
She said, Now you do me. I really need to cum, but good.
Jule's boobs were more than a big man's handful each and were tipped with dark brown, silver dollar sized aureola. The nipples jutting out from them were an inch long, rock hard, and of a slightly darker shade of brown.
Her pussy was covered in a full, rich bush of dark hair, the same color as on her head. I scootched down and stuck my nose and mouth into that lush bush and drank in the heady aroma of her aroused sex as I lapped up her honey.
I licked and caressed her labia, staying away from her oozing slit at first. This elicited groans and moans anew from Jules. I just couldn't stay out of her slit though. My tongue lapped hard while I used my fingers to toy with her mons through her bush, reaching down ever closer to her clit and finally withdrawing back just before reaching it. She bucked hard into my face and fingers.
Without warning, I left her pussy and scootched up again to lick and suck on her tits and nipples, nuzzling in the valley between occasionally. Julie moaned appreciatively as I worked.
Good, bitch, but I liked you doin' my pussy better.
Oh, I'll get back there soon enough, Jules.
I forsook her boobs and slowly licked my way back down her chest to her navel. After first rimming her navel several times, I pushed my tongue all the way to the bottom before withdrawing and going all the way, in a wet trail, to her pussy slit again.
There, I gave Jule's clit a thorough work over again with my tongue and teeth and then slipped down her pussy slit to the opening of her love canal. I inserted my middle finger while still tonguing her and began stroking her G-Spot. Jules, like me, already horny before I started on her, could stand no more and broke into a bed pounding, multiple orgasm.
Oh my God, cried Jules, you'd rival any Dyke inside.
We spent quite some time more, enjoying each other's bodies before we decided we needed to shower and get at least some sleep before the morrow.
I didn't wake until the late morning sunlight filtering in through the curtained window did the job of an alarm clock for me. I looked over to the other bed and found it empty. The bathroom door was shut, so I assumed Jules was occupying it.
I didn't get the first inkling that all was not as it was supposed to be until I went to the sink to wash my face. The stool and tub shower occupy the bathroom, the sink is on the room side of the bathroom.
There on the sink counter was the contents of my purse--minus a couple of items, including the purse. My wallet was there, but the three hundred dollars cash it contained was gone. Fortunately, the credit card was left behind in the wallet.
I don't think Jules had any inkling as to what it was, or if she did, decided the risk wasn't worth taking. My make up kit, compact, and lipstick tube were also missing.
My God, Miss Swifty ... Ahhh, there they are, my car keys!
Evidently Jules had enough sense not to steal a car as visible and identifiable as a Corvette. Thank the Lord for small favors. Small? It was one hell of a big deal that I still had my Miss Swifty.
I also found a note, scribbled on motel stationary. It said, Sorry--well, not really--but I needed the cash worse than you. I'll solve my own problems, thank you just the same. Take your bleeding heart to someone else. Next time, don't be so damned trusting. I'm outta here! There was no incriminating signature.
Well, shit! I said out loud, to the empty room.
At least everything can easily be replaced, even the money. It could've been worse--she could've taken the car and the card.
I used a couple of plastic bags from the room to corral my personal affects til I could buy another purse and then stepped into the shower. I sleep naked, so I was already undressed. The shower cleansed my body and my mind. I put the incident with Jules out of my consciousness as a lesson learned and at the prospect of a new day and new adventures.
As I toweled off and then dropped the damp thing in a heap on the floor by the shower, I inspected my naked body in the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.
Not bad, not bad at all. Still prime cut. Cute face, upturned nose, kissable mouth with nice smile, full, perky and pointy boobs with nipples the size guys die for, slender waist, and still no sign of a belly pouch. Add to that svelte thighs, tapered calves, very tight ass--yeaahhh, not bad at all!
I climbed slowly into my weekday uniform of short shorts, sans panties; halter top, sans bra, that was loose enough to flaunt my cleavage and then some. If I bent over much I would be in danger of dropping my boobs completely clear. Sandals, sans socks completed my ensemble.
This was a much more comfortable driving costume than more conservative forms of dress, especially in a low seat sports car. If I thought I might be doing something that would require a little more covering up, I would substitute culottes in place of the short shorts and a more conservative blouse in place of the halter. But still, no underwear.
I walked to the front desk and turned in my keys. The advertised continental breakfast was indeed a continental breakfast, consisting of coffee, orange juice and a croissant. Not much, but enough, especially the coffee, to enable me to drive down to Bloomington where I planned on getting a full breakfast for a growing girl.
After my third cup of coffee, I ambled out to Miss Swifty. She was parked in the shade of the building yet, so I didn't have to get the towel out to cover hot, leather seats. I got in and fired her up, and, with exhaust pipes rumbling, drove her out to the four lane 66 to head on down the road.
When I got to the north edge of Bloomington, I took Business 66 into town. Actually it was Normal as Bloomington is the southern one of the twin cities, and wove my way over to main street which bisects both cities into an east half and a west half. I rambled along until I reached number 1219 North Main, to be precise.
There was located a Steak-n-Shake, a very special Steak-n-Shake. This one was the very first one of what would become a chain spread across the midwest. It was founded by Gus and Edith Belt in 1934. He put the food preparation, out front where the customer could see it being prepared. The slogan, of course, was, In sight, it must be right!
It was late enough in the morning that I had brunch--a double decker Steakburger, fries, Boston Baked Beans in a ceramic, brown pot, and coffee. I topped it all off with a chocolate sundae. Steak-n-Shake was one of the original fast food joints and sooooo satisfying, if not so friggin' fattening.
I'll need to get some heavy exercise pretty soon if I am going to eat like this all the way cros country!
The twin cities are the home of two universities, Illinois State Normal University, a teacher training institution only (at least yet in 1963) in Normal, and Illinois Wesleyan University in Bloomington.
In six years, Illinois State Normal University would broaden out into a full-fledged university of separate colleges and change its name by dropping the word Normal from its title. The cross-town rivalry, however, never wavered and can gets quite fierce at times. More on that shortly.
After my brunch at Steak-n-Shake, I drove around, sight-seeing on the two college campuses and at the David Davis Mansion. Davis was a lawyer, senator, judge, and close friend of Abraham Lincoln.
By late afternoon, I decided to stay over in Bloomington as there were yet one or to things more I wanted to see and do. It was between late afternoon and early evening, so I thought I should get my motel and then look up a place I had heard of for something to eat again.
In the middle of Bloomington's downtown after leaving the Davis Mansion, I knew I would have to drive to the edge of town, and south was closest, for a motel, one I would want to stay in anyway. So, I drove out to the south on 66 and pulled off to drive into a Howard Johnson's restaurant and motel complex.
I walked in and saw what looked like a college stud behind the front desk. He was six feet or more tall and built like a Mack truck--but a lean one. He sported a flat top head of blond hair with the deepest, bluest eyes I've ever seen. He caught sight of me, only half way to the desk as he came out of his office.
He got one gawk from head to toe and suddenly sported an instant boner that tented his pants out so far that he could of held a three ring circus in them.
What kind of cock as he got in there, anyway?
He nearly creamed his jeans on the spot as he watched me sashay across the lobby to the desk. I had switched to culottes, still sans bra and panties, in the car before doing the Davis mansion thing, no mean feat in a Vette coupe, by the way. Now I had already switched back to tight, short-shorts and a halter top in Miss Swifty before going into the motel.
My twin 38s were staring him straight in the face with nipples hardened in erection to nearly a full inch and quite visibly poking into my halter top. They seemed to be trying to get through the material and burst into the open air.
My shorts were so tight that I sported a a real doozy of a cameltoe. I could also feel there was about a quarter sized wet spot in my shorts that was threatening to grow larger by the second. I licked my lips, lasciviously, as I stopped at the registration desk. I saw Danny on his name I.D. tag.
Studly desk clerk's eyes were about to bug out and he suddenly turned red in the face (I bet he did cream his jeans!) as he stammered out, Unhh, c-c-can I h-e-l-lp you?
I had taken the initiative and I was determined to remain in control of this big, overgrown puppy of a stud. Danny, that is your name, correct?
Uh, y-yes.
Well, Danny, I'd like a room with two beds, please.
I made sure to lean over as often and as low as I could to give him a real view
T-t-two b-b-eds?
That's what I asked for, sweetie, one for me and one for you.
W-w-what di-did you say?
Just kidding, sweetie, about you that is. But I do want the two beds though. How much?
Some cocksure, aggressive college stud this one was.
He stammered out a price and I replied, Aw, come on sweetie, is that the best you can do for little ole' me?
I leaned a long way forward as I said that, so far in fact that I thought I might have overdone it and was about to drop one of those sweet melons he was staring at so hard, right out on the desk in front of him.
Danny was really getting tongue-tied now. For a moment, he really couldn't speak as he stared at my cleavage. He gurgled a little. With that, I decided he needed a little prodding. We were still all alone in the lobby.
It wasn't at all difficult to reach my hands up to the bottom of my halter top and tug on it. Both my melons popped free and dropped onto the desk directly in front of Danny. My hardened nipples stared like two eyes right into his eyes.
Oohhh, Goddd, he mumbled.
It was obvious that he did come in his pants that time. Whether for the first time or the second, he definitely shot a load.
Oh, I'm sorry, Danny. How careless of me. Ah, would you like to stroke my little pets before I put them away again?
He just shook his head once in denial, so I slipped the halter back up into its proper place.
When Danny finally snapped out of it, he at last stammered out a fifty per cent reduction in the rate and I grabbed it. I filled out the registration form and handed both it and the exact cash back to Danny. It wasn't that I couldn't afford full price for the room as I certainly could, in spades; it was just a hell of a lot more fun to negotiate the way I did.
Danny gave me the key to a second floor room, 222. I thought I would push him a little more, so I asked him, What time do you end your shift, sweetie?
Midnight, he managed to get out.
Well, come up and see me sometime, if you're a mind to, that is.
I thought he was going to either pee his pants or cum again as that invitation registered in his brain. I left him speechless and staring as I turned and swished my ass out to Miss Swifty. We'll see if he takes me up on my offer later tonight.
I took my personal stuff up to my room and stripped in preparation for a much needed shower. I turned on the water and got it running a nice, soaking warm temperature before stepping under the soothing spray. I just stood there for a bit, allowing the very warm water to cascade over me and relax me.
Thinking about the stud desk clerk, Danny, I let my left hand drift to my pussy and my right hand fell onto my left boob. My left hand moved in slow circles, the warm water fell on both my boobs and then down onto my pussy.
I felt my pussy cream flow as I imagined what I would do to Danny and what I would feel like with his cock where my finger now played. With my thumb on my clit and my middle finger, like a miniature cock reaching for my G-Spot, I stroked myself faster and faster.
My clit responded with an erection to be proud of. I continued to caress that big bud with my thumb and first finger with my middle finger still stuck in my love canal. I should perhaps mention that I have very long, piano playing fingers.
My orgasm built and built until it finally burst over me in wave after wave of pure erotic pleasure. Soaping up after that, almost got me going again. I rinsed for a long time before finally stepping out to dry. I got changed back into a clean pair of tight, short-shorts and a loose halter top that would show tons of cleavage if I allowed.
Back at the parking spot, I unlocked and got in Miss Swifty and headed back downtown to 116 East Market Street. Even Peoria Bradley students, at least some of us, had heard of the Lucca Grill or Lucca's, and I wanted to check it out.
I managed to slide into a parking slot right out front as it was being vacated by another patron. It was already twenty-nine years famous as it had been founded in 1934 by the brothers Fred and John Baldinni. They named it after their home town, Lucca, Italy.
With its antique mahogany bar, ornate tin roof (ceiling, that is), and the claimed home of the first pizza in central Illinois, it has long been home to ISNU and Wesleyan students as well as many, many others.
As I stepped into the place, I stopped and looked around a moment to get the lay of the land. I located a small table momentarily free and sat down. I ordered a pizza with everything and a beer. Heads had begun to turn, male heads first and then female heads to see what the males were all looking at, as I walked in and continued to follow me as I walked to the table.
My cameltoe was very evident and my nipples grew erect instantly at all the attention I was getting, poking into my top, as I thought sexy thoughts and surveyed the crowd. I could also feel my pussy nectar wetting my nether lips, though no spot yet showed on my shorts. But that would change very quickly.
Several heads were still looking my way. They were college boys, three wearing Wesleyan colors (green and white) and three with ISNU colors (red and white). They'd been in earnest conversation until they turned, open mouthed, to stare at me as I sashayed to my table, close by theirs.
Just loud enough for my ears, I heard comments like: Whoa, look at that cameltoe! Or, Hey, no bra on that one! Or, I sure would like a piece of her!
When I turned and smiled their way, they slowly turned back to resume their conversation. They were evidently arguing about who was better, Big Green or Big Red, in everything from school purpose, sports, social activities, virile men, luscious coeds, to you name it. I listened, smiling, sometimes giggling, at their comments while waiting for my food.
They kept at it while I ate, with occasional leering looks my way.
Shit! one of them said, She's sex incarnate! She's pure sex on the hoof!
Elle
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