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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: drivers.txt (F-teen/M-adult, seduction)
Authors name: Bootscooter (Address withheld by request)
Story title : I Need A Driver's License
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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I Need A Driver's License (F-teen/M-adult, seduction)
by Bootscooter (Address withheld by request)
***
Some years ago I was the one who determined the safety
of motorists and pedestrians as it was I who gave the
road test to our young first time drivers. I was well
aware of the lengths some potential drivers go thru to
get that legal document -- but was not aware of the
absolute extent some would go to. You've got to read it
to believe it. It happened to me and I STILL don't
believe it!
***
Hi there, this is something that -- well, I've NEVER-EVER
told anyone. Either it wouldn't be believed -- or I'd be
in BIG trouble. So I thank you for this manner in which I
can spill my guts. Now, this happened many years ago,
I've been harboring it for a LONG time. It only happened
once, but once was enough to last me a LIFETIME!
It came at the time I was working for the state, not an
overly cushy job, just annoying. Annoying in the sense
that I was the guy who determined the fate of pedestrians
everywhere: I was the guy who road tested America's
youth.
Sure they could pass the written part of the state exam
but it was that pesky road test that was the kicker.
Usually most of the young first time drivers were okay
and most passed well enough that I could breathe easy and
walk the sidewalks without fear.
Most. There were some that I have no idea how they even
dressed themselves without crashing to the floor! One
particular incidence I am here to share with you.
She was all of sixteen, just turned. She was cute,
slender, preppy, perky, sixteen years young, pretty, and
blond. I dealt with a lot of blonds, most didn't live up
to the name of "dumb blond" although some did and sought
to bring down the whole race.
Naturally she had ACED the written exam portion -- now
came the fun part. She had one of those newer cars for
teens like her, a Volkswagen Rabbit, convertible. A gift
from her "daddy" who had bucks. The wealth of the
potential driver did not impress me, I was here to do a
job and do it well to the best of my ability. (Oh well,
it sounded good.)
Yes I did note that she was pretty. Very pretty. The fact
that she had blond hair did not upset or worry me. She
smelled of Charlie, or one of the popular brands at the
time. Very clean complexion, long narrow face, and very
beautiful eyes. She was chipper and pleasing (very) to
the eye. She did at least manage the hand signals, knew
how to turn on the headlights and where the Brake was.
But that was about all. How she had managed to get to
this point of the exam I'll never know. I had only to
assume that her pure beauty had swayed those in charge of
allowing her to acquire a permit.
And I can only assume that for that particular day she
chose her short pleated white skirt for a reason -- to
sway me. I wasn't going to fall for it. The State paid
well, it would take an act of Congress (or God) to get
you fired from a State job. The benefits were good, hours
and pay. I need only put up with potential hazards to the
road for a few hours a day -- the rest of my time I was
at my desk -- doing nothing but playing cards on the
computer while thirty people waited in line to be helped.
Long blond hair she had, straight without much style.
Very clean skin, she smelled pretty, looked pretty, was
pretty. A yellow vest on a white matching skirt blouse,
yellow ribbons in her hair -- she was a very sweet girl,
but a terrible driver.
The concept of coming to a full stop at a stop sign
eluded her. As did proper road speed, parallel parking,
proper lane changes, etc. Twice she ran over the curb
while turning right, narrowly missing the light pole and
mailbox.
She's already failed the exam and we're only on the road
five minutes!
Turning right we've shot up a very shady area lined with
these damned imported trees from Australia. Up to the top
of the hill where I finally have her pull over and park
it. She's failed and I have to drive back to the DMV
office -- for MY safety as well as the public.
"Amanda" realizes that she has failed and all is lost.
She begins to wail, "But I need a driver's license!" of
which I can sympathize -- but to allow this vixen out on
the public road everyday!? I couldn't.
So she began to wail. Wail and beg. I rattled off in
retort the violations she had committed, her inability to
be considerate of the other motorists and pedestrians,
and so on. She assured me that she was just nervous and
that I should give her another chance.
I couldn't do that, either. Unlike her I follow the rules
and regs just like everybody else. So she tried a new
ploy -- crying. Now, I've had children, and a wife -- I
was used to crying and was well aware of the basic
reasoning -- it was a stratagem to get me to bow down and
submit. I did not. I could not. I realized the distress
this was causing the girl, to be a licensed driver was a
big step in a young person's life. But what sort of
person would I be should I allow this carelessness to
cruise the streets of Metropolis willy-nilly mowing down
unsuspecting bicyclists, pedestrians, dogs, and old
people who couldn't move fast enough.
"I'll do anything!" she wailed some more.
"It's too late!" I told her empathetically. I had already
voided her privileges and signed off on the green
tabulation paper -- I turned to tell her to get out as we
were switching places as I would be driving us back to
the DMV; when to my weary middle-aged eyes she had
maneuvered her already short tennis-like skirt up some --
exposing some new flesh.
Normally I didn't pay too much attention to what the kids
were wearing, some I just hung my head as how could any
parent allow their child to go out into public looking
like they were destitute or ready for Street Walking.
I understood the pre-notion that Summer time meant less
clothing, but some kids were ridiculous about it. I found
this more so on girls than boys. Here, Amanda and
maneuvered her skirt up so's I could see her panties.
I blinked. My mind began shutting down the normal
processes of logical thought and stared at the new bare
flesh. Nothing could be spoken, I gulped for air and
watched reverently as more and more of her crisp white
undies revealed themselves to me.
"I'll do anything." she spoke in a soft voice.
I looked to her, blinked and strove to regain my senses.
This had never happened before. Usually the girl either
sulked, pouted, tried to pay me off in money, got pissed
off, got out and stomped off for home. But never ever in
my few short years as a road tester had anyone showed me
skin.
Being the normal guy sure for certain I had gone home and
dreamt about those girls who wore revealing clothing. To
some of those girls yes I jerked my gherkin to, banged my
wife with the girl's image searing in my mind. But that
was as far as it went.
The area we had come to park in was not overly secluded,
it was up five hundred feet from a main cross street,
entering into a moderate neighborhood of two story homes.
The eucalyptus trees lines the street up until the first
house. We had come to park by a fire hydrant: city code
22514 violation. There was nothing (really) that I could
do but stare as the teenage (heart throb) continued to
expose to me her absolute loveliness. She turned in her
seat just so to bring her right leg up some -- now giving
me a muff shot. I felt the first strong stirrings from my
loins.
There was nothing on the opposite side of the street; it
curved to go straight into the moderate upscale
neighborhood and there was just an open grassy area
there. It was mid afternoon, the sun was behind us, the
air fresh with mixes of eucalyptus and city bus fumes.
"I really need a license." she repeated in a soft
alluring voice. My throat was swelling shut, mind
shutting down, cock surging. This had never happened to
me so my reaction was struggling to find itself proper.
Amanda brought her knee up thusly allowing me absolute
full viewing of her daintiness. It was almost more than I
could stand. A nice tight muff bulge, white panties with
yellow daises.
She shook her head to clear some loose strands of her
pretty blond hair, gave me a look of...of... A brief
smile (of wickedness) and began undoing the buttons to
her white blouse. Again, there was naught I could do but
sit and watch in utter anticipation.
With her blouse undone she pouched out her chest and
undone her bra, releasing those magnificent orbs of
mankind delight. So young, so round, so pleasing to the
eye. Small B cup, a handful, and eyeful. My balls
scrunched up tight within my brown slacks, my cock was
already beginning to spurt.
Amanda leaned forward across her seat seemingly offering
me a fondle. Far down the street I could see the mail
truck. Looking back behind us down the eucalyptus leave
strewn road I waited for a city cop car to pull in off of
the main street.
But none did.
Amanda took her hand to mine and placed it onto her bare
flesh. No words could describe then or now that feeling.
My mind simply blanked out and emotions of the illicit
kind stepped in. The skin was soft, smooth, and supple.
My fingers poised about the mound before lightly tweaking
(squeezing) the nipple, then I moved to the other. Amanda
seemed to be experiencing an orgasm over this, closing
her eyes and moaning ever so lightly. She arched her back
and jiz began to soil my underwear.
My clipboard and paperwork fell away to the floor as
Amanda leaned down and began fondling my hardness. I
blinked my eyes and was completely blitzed. This wasn't
happening. This simply fucking wasn't happening. Not to
me! It was unheard of, impossible, incredible,
incredulous. (and not entirely unheard of -- it WAS
happening, to other people, in Minneapolis, Miami, St.
Louis, Portland (OR) and Dallas.
But not in Suburbia. I couldn't recall in the DMV history
of my hometown anything of the like occurring here. I was
making new ground, bold new steps in becoming a
statistic.
Amanda had spent a few seconds with her mouth against my
hard dick, sucking my shaft through my slacks. She paused
only momentarily to undo those slacks and fish out my
schlong. And I did nothing to stop her. (Hell, if I was
going to go to jail I might as well make it for something
worthwhile!)
Her mouth came expertly over my organ, it was already
exploding in delight; her tongue skillfully cleaned up
all the previous spillage before engulfing the head. Her
tongue danced about the ultra sensitive crown before
diddling into the piss slit. Thereafter she went ALL the
way down to the musty fuzzy base and began power sucking
me.
I clutched at the outside of the door, mind totally off-
line, eyes darting madly to search for the cop car and
mail truck. With none in sight I looked down to see
Amanda quietly (albeit noisily) sucking me off.
With her blouse already "loose" my hand on its own began
caressing her backside. I couldn't remember the last time
I had been sucked -- if at all. It felt good, lemme tell
ya. Damn good. She placed one hand at the base and
squeezed, her other hand inside my trousers to clutch at
my fuzzies.
Peering down her backside I could see the hem of her
panties. My hand went sliding down to the small of her
back, slipping inside her skirt and panties. Amanda moved
to reposition herself, rising up some so as my trembling
hand could go down into the girl more. Amanda undone her
still fastened skirt -- never leaving the suck job she
was doing to my schlong, however.
Her and I both worked her skirt down to now fully expose
her lily-white ass. The skin was incredibly smooth, my
finger came to her bunghole and I doubted it had ever
been breeched. I semi doubted that she was virginal, but
I could be wrong. I would have never guessed that she
could give such wondrous head, either! An orgasm was
coming. Soon. Amanda smacked off of my cock and sat up,
licking her lips, sweating some. Her nipples were hard
and her pretty eyes glistening. With my mind on the fritz
there was nothing I could do but sit there and look
stupefied.
Amanda almost broke her calm angelic face with a smile,
but it segued into a somewhat wicked persona as she
continued to work down her skirt and panties. She kept
her blouse and bra on, but...
I was hers to command and control. When she began trying
to work my slacks down I finally lent a hand and helped,
working them down to my ankles and laying back in the
seat. Amanda came to straddle me and guided my bone into
her hot pussy.
It was more than I could believe. This just was
incredible and not happening. My hands cupped her pillowy
ass as she rode me; she arched her back as every inch of
my cock upped up into her sex. No longer was I in control
of my body, we both shuddered as the first wave of
orgasmic pleasures filled us.
Amanda's breasts were a secondary delight for me and I
partook of each one, nipping the nipples and feeling
orgasmic juices pooling beneath my nut sac. Amanda
gyrated on me, my hands griped tenaciously her lovely
ass, fingering her pooter hole and driving my aching bone
into her teenage sex as fast as I possibly could.
The girl gripped me, the seat; she rocked and bucked and
made sexual moans and groans before she began to clench
tightly her ass and pussy as she herself began to
experience that glory of glories. I felt my cock spurting
jiz into the girl, my cock strained and the toes in my
shoes curled.
Amanda began to buck like a rabbit, the sensations were
too much to be believed. I gave a final squirt and felt
the sudden departure of energy. The teenager continued to
pump on my quickly going flaccid cock, grinding against
me and seriously soiling the fabric seat. She lay into
sighing and seemingly almost going to sleep.
As was I.
Our interlude was broken by the sound of the mail truck
making a "U" turn to service the other homes. It hadn't
come close, but I had. I began gulping for air like a
fish out of water. Amanda slid off of me and back into
her proper seat, fingering her torrid pussy. Beneath me
was a small pool of our mixed juices. I fondled my balls
and aching cock and then felt embarrassed.
Amanda pulled herself together and buttoned her shirt,
but hadn't refastened her bra. My slacks and undies came
into place, but I needed a shower -- and some therapy.
Amanda's skirt came up but not her panties, she wiped
down her dainty faceable non-virginal pussy and handed me
the soiled garment. She was smiling slyly now. I held the
offering and stared, my mind still off-line burped --
"Put it in your pocket, stupid!"
After a few more minutes we had sufficiently gathered
ourselves.
"So did I pass?" Amanda quipped.
All I could do was nod my head, "Yes."
By the week's end I had resigned and moved on.
-end-
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. You only have one body per lifetime,
so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 19