1. Country Gal, Story 2


    Date: 12/23/2017, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: CommunicationDirectr, Source: LushStories

    I was traveling down US Hwy 69 through east Texas when I passed her – a country girl, in tight blue jeans and a very tight white blouse, walking all alone in the high grass on the side of the road. It was a warm day, not too hot and not chilly. I was about five miles outside of Mineola, when I saw her. I didn’t see a car on the side of the road and the area was kind of remote, so I did a uturn and headed back towards where she was walking on the side of the road. I slowed up a bit as I drove past her. She smiled and waved as I drove by. I drove on for about another ten or fifteen seconds and then did another uturn. She glanced back at me as I slowed down and approached her, rolling down my passenger side window. “Are you OK?” I asked as I pulled up next to her. She smiled. She was a young lass, probably about twenty or so, or so I guessed. “Yeah,” she said, “I’m just walking to a friend’s house.” “Do you need a ride?” I asked. To my surprise, she stepped towards the roadway and said, “A ride would be great!” I unlocked the passenger side door and she climbed I, brushing her long blonde hair back over her shoulder with one swoop of her hand. “Thanks for picking me up,” she proffered as I steered back on to the highway. “No problem,” I said. Her name was Rita. She was from Mineola. She was nineteen. She was walking to a friend’s house. “Are you from around here?” she asked. “Nope,” I replied, “I’m just passing through.” Rita smiled. “You should stick around,” she said. ...
    “You’re cute.” I wasn’t use to a stranger complementing me. “Turn at the next dirt road,” Rita instructed. We bounced down the pot-holed road towards a farm house. I pull into the dirt drive and before I could even come to a stop, I knew the drop off was not going to happen. I watched as Rita stepped on to the porch and banged on the front door. I saw her peeking into the front window. She continued to knock on the door, but no one answered. She stepped off the porch and then settled back into the passenger seat of my sports utility vehicle. She didn’t say anything and I could tell she was not happy. “Can you drop me off a Happy’s?” she asked. I didn’t know anything about Happy’s, but figured it was a bar by the sound of the name. “Sure,” I replied. We bounced back down the dirt road and back to the black top. Happy’s was a bar. Rita asked me to join and her and while I really didn’t have the time, since I had to be in Tyler within the next hour or so, I couldn’t resist her plea. The only person at the bar was an older fellow by the name of Bill. Bill knew Rita and called her name out as we stepped into the bar, with its blinking neon “Bud” sign hanging from the ceiling. Rita introduced me to Bill and we shook hands. Bill winked as he shook my hand. “Any friend of Rita’s is a good guy,” Bill said as he poured Rita and I a shot of Kentucky Bourbon and a glass of Coke. I settled on to a bar stool as Rita settled on to the one next. Rita grabbed her shot glass and held it up in my ...
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