I was hitchhiking on I-95 about 30 miles south of Fredricksburg, Virginia, at four in the morning.

After I had walked at least five miles in the rain, I came upon an abandoned Camaro. The doors were unlocked, so I got in, hoping to find the keys still in it. No such luck. I sat there awhile, wishing I knew how to hot-wire a car. But I didn’t, so I got out and stood beside it as if I had engine trouble. Soon another car stopped, the window lowered, and a woman said, “Can I be of some help?”

“You sure can,” I said. “I need a lift to Fredricksburg so I can find a mechanic.”

“I don’t pick up strangers,” she said. “Can I call a mechanic for you?”

“I’ll bet you’ve got a heater in there. I’m cold and wet,” I said.

“Well — okay, get in,” she said.

She might have been 30 and had a pretty face. There was little light, but when a diesel passed by, I saw her face quite clearly. She looked at me, and I believe her eyes were brown. She had on tight yellow slacks and a baby-blue oxford blouse. Her slacks clung to her crotch so tightly, I thought she couldn’t help but be thinking of sex.

She said, “I’ve been driving for hours and my shoulders are really beginning to ache.”

“Here, let me,” I said, as I reached over and massaged her shoulders. “So where are you coming from?”

I didn’t wait for an answer and I didn’t care where she was going either, because I wanted her now. I slid closer to her. Her shoulders were tight. I loosened them up and stroked her back. Then I kissed her neck.

“I’m glad I picked you up,” she said.

“So am I,” I said, “but keep your eyes on the road, if you can.” I ran my hand over the bulge in my pants and gripped my cock. I was still massaging the back of her neck with my other hand. My cock was so hard, I had to unzip my pants. I was about to pull out my cock when she said, “Why don’t you let me see what you’re packing there?” My cock always did have a mind of its own, and it now stuck out like a torpedo seeking its target.

“Looks delicious,” she said.

I reached down and cupped her pussy. “Why don’t you pull over to the side of the road?”

I suggested.

“What if the cops see us?”

“We’ll just tell them the car overheated.”

She pulled off to the side of the road and cut the engine. She grabbed my crotch and went down on my hot, throbbing cock. I slipped her slacks and panties down, bent my head, and found that bushy mound with my tongue while she gripped the back of my head for good measure. God, was she sweet. I stuck my finger in her pussy, then slipped it in her tight asshole. She raised her butt high. I fucked her ass with my finger and ate her pussy like a sandwich. She came at least twice before I unloaded in that sweet, succulent mouth I would never get to kiss.

Suddenly a flashing blue light appeared not far off. I pulled her slacks and panties back up as fast as I could while she struggled to suck every last drop from my cock. “We’ve got to get up,” I said. “It’s the cops.”

“I knew it! I knew it!” she started yelling.

“Maybe they won’t suspect anything,” I said. There was a tap on the glass and my new friend lowered her window. It was a cop, all right. A female cop.

“What’s going on here?” she asked.

“We’re having car trouble,” said my companion. “Let me try to start it again.”

“First I want to see your driver’s license and registration,” said the cop. My lover-friend opened her wallet, took out her driver’s license, and reached in the glove compartment for her registration. The officer looked at the papers and then said, “I think you two were doing something else besides trying to start the car. Try it now.”

My good Samaritan turned the ignition and the car started right up. “I want you out here now,” said the officer.

I said, “This lady has to let me off at the next exit, and I’m trying to get to Fredricksburg. Could you give me a ride, officer, so I don’t have to hitchhike? Isn’t that against the law?”

“Yes it is,” said the officer. “I can take you most of the way there.”

I thanked my Samaritan for the lift and got out of her car, wiping the juices from her sweet, wet cunt from my chin. When I went to get into the patrol car, the officer told me she’d have to search me first. I held my arms out at my side, and she frisked me down to my legs. She ran her hand inside the top band of my jockeys and right down to the crack of my ass.

“Okay, get in the car,” she said. A 12-gauge shotgun was standing up by the front console, the way my cock had been just a few minutes before in the other car. Now the cop and I were alone.

I looked her over and said, “Officer, you sure do look nice in that tight little uniform — ”