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+--- Thread: Rick (/showthread.php?tid=267)
Rick - WMASG - 11-16-2025
In 1964 I was fifteen and hitchhiking down the Oregon coast. I had been visiting a friend in Portland and was returning home via my thumb as I had other plans for the bus ticket money. My previous ride had gotten me from Portland to the coast. The rain was just starting to come down pretty steady and I was standing alongside highway 101 at the south end of Lincoln City with my thumb out. It was late afternoon and I was still a long way from home and getting wetter by the minute.
A guy in an old Plymouth pulled up and asked me where I was headed. I told him, and he said he could get me part way there, so I jumped in with him. He was a tall slim guy in his mid 30s. Second thing I noticed about him was his eyes. When he talked to me, his eyes were looking at my legs and not at my face. One of his hands was resting on his lap next to a really large bulge in his crotch. He turned the heater on high, which felt pretty good, but I was still pretty well soaked. He asked me if I had any dry clothes in my backpack. I told him that I did and that if there was a rest stop somewhere ahead I'd like to change clothes. He told me the coast highway didn't really have any rest areas. He said I could change in the car. As he said that his fingertips extended to press against the big bulge. I was getting the feeling that he might be interested in some kind of sex play. The only sex play I had known at that time was that I sure enjoyed jacking off and my cock seemed to get thicker and longer every time. I was also thinking that if I did do anything with him, I was a long way from my home town and probably no one would ever know. I didn't stop to consider any of the many dangerous things that might happen.
I replied, "Well, if your sure you don't mind."
He said "It's ok, I don't mind at all."
I took my tennis shoes off and reached into my pack in the back seat and found a pair of dry jeans and a dry tee shirt. I sat back down and proceeded to slip my wet jeans off. I noticed his eyes were fixed on my pants coming off and his fingertips were back on that big bulge. I was getting hard, and this time it wasn't just another one of the many unexpected erections that seemed to be a regular part of fifteen-year-old life. I rolled up my wet jeans to put them away, then I reached for the dry folded jeans that were on the seat between us and noticed his hand was resting on them.
He looked of at me and said, "Nothing personal, but while you have your pants off, would you be at all interested in a blow job?"
I replied "Uh, I guess so."
"Go ahead and just leave your pants off and I'll pull up an old logging road that's just up the road a ways," he said.
I was really hard by now and the thought of getting off was the only thing on my mind. I never even thought at that moment that I might get hurt or killed.
He said, "Why don't you slide over next to me so I can feel you?"
I moved next to him and his hand moved to my leg and slid up and down my thigh. His hand then moved over my penis and explored its shape and size as best he could over my tightly whites.
He turned up an old logging road and said, "Your socks are wet and dirty, why don't you take them off?"
I wasn't sure why I needed to take my socks off, but they were damp, so I took them off. He pulled up another side road that hadn't been used for a long time and parked. He turned toward me and asked if I'd ever had a blow job before. I told him that I had never. As we were talking, he was unbuttoning my flannel shirt. He asked me if I had done things with girls yet. I told him about my kissing and feeling up a girl I knew. I asked him what it was like to fuck a girl.