Summer of '86, Port Dover, a Harley

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I'd been striking out lately, I had no good pickup lines. I was going through a long dry spell after my second wife and I split up.


The cashier looked tired as she checked me out. Maybe now was the time to try and help her feel good.

I just said, 'Summer of '86, Port Dover, back of a Harley.'

I barely got the words out. She looked up at me, her eyes brightening, a bit of a smile, replying 'How could you remember me from so long ago?'

'I always remember a pretty lady!' I replied, knowing Lynda was the mother of 3 young teenagers, I'd seen her at a mall the week before. It took the whole week and seeing her again now, to remember the first time I laid eyes on her.

She responded with, 'I guess I'm not so hot now?' She wasn't wearing any rings, her hair dye in need of a touch-up and she had minimal makeup on. Despite this, the basic body heat was still there. I remembered how so many years ago I had been thinking about this girl through my whole three-hour ride home, then making torrid love to my wife three quick times in succession, while pretending it was Lynda that I was deep inside of. Of course, I didn't know her name back then.

'The old man picking you up on the Harley at closing?' I asked.

She answered, 'No, the Harley went first, then he left. I'm taking the bus nowadays.'

I just said,'Can you spare a few minutes for coffee with me across the street? I'll give you a ride home. I just want to talk for a few minutes.'

Her answer was,'Sure! I'm off at ten. It's a long bus ride home. But before I get in a car with you, I want to tell someone here who you are.'

I agreed, saying, 'Okay. Here's my card. You can photocopy my driver's licence and give it to someone. There's my plate, through the window.' Well, I'm in law enforcement and I guess my card was good enough for her. She handed it to the cashier in the next lane, Kaleigh, the one with big perky tits who had listened to every word between us.

She said to Kaleigh, 'If I don't show up tomorrow at 12, call the cops!'

Fifteen minutes later she came out of the store into the darkened parking lot. I asked her if she'd like to put her groceries in my pickup now, rather than us carry them into the coffee shop. She looked hesitant, but I said 'Here, you can keep the keys on you.' She smiled, put her bags on the seat, closed the door and I handed her my keys. We walked across the street, into the brightly-lit coffee shop. I asked her what she'd like, but she ordered and then paid for her own.

'I make my own way.' She said in a matter-of-fact manner. I carried my coffee and BLT over to the table she chose. As I sat down she said, 'He wasn't a real biker. And eventually I wasn't hot enough for him.'

I replied, 'He didn't appreciate you for who you really are.'

She said to me, 'He turned out to be a jerk. And a lousy father.'

My response was a white lie, 'Oh, you have a child?'

'Three. Is that a problem?' was her reply.

I answered, 'No! Its just that you look in great shape for a Mom!'

'What's your story?' she asked.

I explained the changes in my life over the past 15 years. Then she explained how Bud got her pregnant; she explained that he had been a perfunctory lover, you know, a couple of minutes of finger-fucking, then missionary position, in-out-in-out, cum, go to sleep. He had often left her with the 'is that all there is to sex?' feeling. She talked on, saying they eventually split over childcare duties, household duties, and money. Her making it and him spending it. An hour went by and we were still talking. Thirty minutes later we were both naked in the front seat of my pickup, parked in the local lover's lane.

She was straddling me, stroking my firm joint. I was fingering her slit, sucking her nipples. She was getting hotter. She said, 'Do you have a condom?'

I answered quietly, 'Yes, I do, but this isn't about getting inside you before our first date. I'm just pleasuring you while we get to know each others' bodies.' I kissed her again, wrapped both my arms around her in a hug. I continued to finger her pussy with one hand while I squeezed her nipple and rolled it between my fingers until she started to moan. She pressed her round belly against my erect penis and I rubbed her pubic hair as she continued to stroke the top of my cock with her open palm. I could feel the heat and her moisture, between us.

I teased her by inserting just the tips of two, then three fingers between her inner lips, slowly moving them upward until the tip of my thumb reached her clitoris. Now she was breathing heavily and squirming with pleasure. I started to rub there and also to alternately pinch her nipples. She was kneeling on the seat, a leg on each side of mine. She took my throbbing member and placed the tip of my cock against her clitoris. She began to use my staff as a dildo, masturbating herself with it whilst I held her waist with one hand and massaged her breast with my other. After a few minutes she gripped me tighter, her back arched, she shook and a loud gasp signified her orgasm.

She did not release me, but stopped stroking, just holding me. After several minutes, she said that she didn't know what to do, saying, 'I mean, there'll be cum all over the truck if I jack you.' I asked her to relieve me into her underpants. Without hesitation or another word she found them on the seat of the truck, grasped my cock head with them and slowly began to stroke me. She was uncertain of what she was doing, asking if she was pleasing me. I kissed her as a response and then came wildly into her white cotton briefs. She looked happy that I had cum. She dropped them on the floor before milking me dry, watching the glistening white droplets in the moonlight that filtered thru the half-open window.

We dressed slowly, awkwardly in the truck. She left her underpants on the floor. We kissed and talked awhile, then she said she had to be getting home or the kids would be worrying.

Before we parted in front of her door we both agreed that the whole thing would remain our secret, her kids must not find out (yet). Yes, more did happen and in the future I'll write again.



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