Hitching a Ride

I met Frances (Siss) Buenoat at the local 'Learn-to-dance' studio. At age nineteen, she was about six months older than me.

There were two occasions during my time with Frances that I could have made more progress in my social life. Once she told me she was at home 'all on my lonesome'. In a round-about way, I was invited to visit her at home with her parents absent. I was vaguely aware of her invitation, but unaware how to respond.

The other one was during one of our necking sessions, I accidentally rubbed her tit. I apologised profusely, and she said 'That's OK'. Years later, I read that to mean 'You can do that again if you like'.

Siss and I went to Willetts, a dance hall in Prahran. We would go back to her place in Gardenvale and I'd take 30 or 40 minutes pashing to say good night at her front gate.

I used to hitch-hike home from her place every week, about 10 miles total, (16 kilometres) along Hawthorne Road and Glenfern Road to White Horse Road, then east to Dickens Road, Ballwynd.

I was picked up, and given a lift by the same driver more than once.

I always enjoyed the different cars and talked to the drivers about their cars all the time. There were mostly English and American cars around at that time in the early 60s. There were Austins and Morrises, Hillmans and once, an English Ford Pilot V8, stopped. Also Chrysler Valiants, Ford Falcons, Volkswagens, Holdens, Chevs, a Buick once whose driver told me it had a straight 8 motor, a Ford Mercury and other Chryslers. I loved the American cars for their power and ostentation. My favourites were the Ford V8s.

Drivers of other European cars rarely stopped and gave me a ride.

I didn't resent drivers ignoring me. I was grateful to be given a free ride at any time, as transport was free by courtesy of others' generosity.

A man in a Wolseley stopped for me and I asked him about his car. I forget the details but I don't think he knew very much about it. He had a deep voice and seemed to speak smoothly as a confident person would.

He asked me about my clothes. I wondered about his interest in fabric as he felt the material of my trousers.

He dropped me off about half way home and I hitched another ride home.

A few weeks later a Wolseley stopped again and the usual greetings and comparisons of destinations were worked out as I climbed in and he drove on. There was something familiar about him and I asked had he picked me up before. He said he hadn't but I was sure he had. I told him his voice sounded similar to another Wolseley driver and that I thought it was him.

When he asked about my clothes, I was almost certain. He began feeling my pants again. That confirmed it.

I said, 'Last time I was in a Wolseley, the man asked about my pants too.' I think he was self conscious and a bit embarrassed about having the same conversation 2 times.

He admitted, 'I remember now. You're right. I have picked you up before.'

I started to wonder why he was interested in my pants. At age 18, I was very naïve and just accepted it as something I didn't know about grown-ups.

He offered to drive me further than usual and we turned into the road leading to my suburb about 6 miles away. After driving for a few miles I kept asking him if he was going too far out of his way and he said he didn't mind.

He asked about the fabric in my pants again and I answered, 'I don't know much about it.'

I think he mentioned something about Gaberdine as he reached over and felt my leg. I thought his hand was too close to the top of my leg. He kept his hand there and even moved it higher while he was driving. Then his little finger was touching one of my balls. It seemed he was more interested in touching me than the fabric of my clothes.

I was afraid of him seeing by bare penis, terrified even. I thought he was being far too familiar. I was shocked and embarrassed, but he was generously giving me a ride and probably going out of his way. He kept his hand on the top of my leg until he needed to change gears.

I moved away as far as I could and jammed my legs together, and after sitting like that for a while I began to feel ridiculous, so I relaxed and resumed a more normal position on the passenger seat.

After another mile, he reached for me again and was touching my fly buttons. I was unable to find the right thing to say to stop him. He wasn't being rough, but he was insistent. He tried to get his hand on me so I moved my leg to give him space for his hand so he wouldn't touch my dick.

He kept asking me where to drive and I started to think he wanted to do things to me. I didn't want anyone to know what was happening, so I directed him up to the end of the wrong street. He stopped the car when he had driven as far as he could.

I said 'Thanks for the ride. I can walk home from here.'

He said 'Where do you live?'

I told him, 'I just walk down the lane to my place.'

He said, 'Let me feel that fabric. I want to see how it was weaved.'

He sounded very friendly and interested. He had driven me almost all the way home and I didn't know how I could say 'NO' to him when he went out of his way for me, but I felt very uncomfortable.

He felt my leg again and he started touching my dick really softly. Even though I preferred girls, I was getting aroused. I felt very ashamed of myself. I was very embarrassed to be getting aroused when a man was touching me. I could feel my penis starting to swell up. How could this happen when I'm with a man, and someone I don't even know.

'Let me undo your pants for a minute.'

I wished I could think of something to say to stop him. When he undid my fly buttons, he put his hand inside my pants and started feeling for my penis. It was still swelling up and I knew I couldn't hide it anywhere now. It was too big.

I wondered how unusual it must be for a complete stranger to put their hand inside someone else's clothes and get a hold of their dick. He located my cock and held it still in my underpants

'That can't be very comfortable caught in there', he said. 'You need much more space when your cock gets that big.'

He stretched the waistband of my underpants. With his other hand, he groped for my penis. I hoped he wouldn't find it but at the same time I knew he would.

I remained still and watched as his insistent fingers located my erect penis and released it from my underpants.

Now my dick was out and he could see it and feel it. I was too scared to even touch it myself. He was able to do whatever he wanted to me. He told me it was much bigger than his. He seemed to be impressed with what he saw. But why was it so big when I didn't even want it to get stiff?

He asked me, 'How long has it been since you squirted semen?'

'Not too long,' I said.

Why did he want to know about me having a pull? I wished it would go back down but it just seemed to get harder and kept swelling while he was touching it so softly.

I was hoping he would let it go so I could go home, but he said, 'I'll just taste it for a minute. Do you mind?'

I couldn't say no because I did mind, and I couldn't say yes because I didn't know how to stop him after he drove me home and everything. I wanted him to stop holding my stiffy with his hand, so the thought of it touching his face was even worse.

I think he was about thirty-five years old, so what interest could he possibly have for someone as young as me? Somehow me being that much younger didn't worry him too much.

He bent down and put my pulsating cock right in his mouth and was licking it. I looked down at the back of his head while he was licking my dick, hoping he would stop in a minute. It was the best feeling I had ever had, but it only made me feel guiltier and guiltier. I was thinking how horrible it would feel to have someone's dick in your mouth. But he kept licking it and sucking it.

Then it felt like his tongue was licking up around the top of my dick. I couldn't believe how stiff and hard it made my cock get. It only made me more excited and I started to think I was going to squirt my semen in his mouth. I tried really hard to stop building up, but he just kept sucking and sucking me on my dick. I tried tensing my stomach muscles and squeezing my buttocks together to prevent anything happening, but he wouldn't stop licking my cock and it kept getting more excited all the time.

My face flushed and the uncontrollable arousal in my throbbing dick and my balls got worse and worse. Then I felt the intense feelings stiffening me up even further.

I told him, 'I'm going to make a mess if you don't stop.'

He just kept licking me very softly and I couldn't stop. The muscles in my cock and at the top of my legs started twitching and twitching. I couldn't make him stop. All of this soft licking around the top of my cock caused me to lose control and he I started. This caused all my semen to squirt out. He kept it in his mouth while I just kept squirting it and squirting it in.

He swallowed it and I was struck dumb. What had just happened to me? I had done something I never even imagined anyone could do.

I got out of the car and found my legs were wobbly.

He had taken advantage of me and I felt powerless to stop him. He didn't even say 'See you later.' He just started the car up and drove away. I was alone. I stood on the road in the middle of the night with the guiltiest conscience and the hardest erection. I just wanted everything to go away and be different, or maybe if I could just disappear forever, I could stop feeling the way I did.

My dick was still throbbing and would not soften for some time. I tried to push my cock sideways so it would fit back in my pants but it was too painful. Luckily for me, no one came along at that time of night. I waited for about another ten minutes for it to get soft again so I could bend it down cover it with my pants and go home.

o0o