The Hitchhiker: Part 1, California
written by:
Joshua

Something had to give, and, in the end, I guess it was me. I'd worked a full day at the office, making sure the accounts I'd been assigned to were up to date, and that the clients were happy. I'd been an accountant at the marketing firm in Los Angeles for eleven years, and had done a good job. At age thirty-two, I believed I was dependable. But when the company changed ownership, and the "new boys" came in, they made a number of changes no one saw coming. You can imagine my surprise when, at the end of the day, some twenty-something year old punk stopped by my desk with a white envelope and announced that my services were no longer needed. "Here's a severance check for your time here. You'll need to clear your desk and when you're ready, give me a call and I'll have security escort you out." Then, incredibly, the little shit eater actually looked at his watch, and said, "You know, we need to make that fifteen minutes. I'm scheduled to take my Ferrari to the detailer and I simply cannot be late." With that, the little bastard turned on the heels of his five hundred dollar shoes and slinked into his office. I did exactly as he instructed me to do, and fifteen minutes later, Joe, the security guard, walked me to my car. I liked Joe: he came to the company the same day as me, and he was a regular kind of guy. In fact, I'm sure he looked the other way when I made sure my car key left a deep, ragged scratch on someone's bright red Ferrari sitting near the front door.

I guess I should have seen all this coming, but to be honest, I truly expected to be one of those who remained from the old staff. I know now I was wrong. The news got worse when I arrived home. I entered my house to find several boxes and luggage packed with my possessions. When I asked my wife, Amy, what all this meant, she succinctly informed me that I was moving out so her lover of three years could move in. "I haven't loved you for five years, Steve," she said as she sat cross-armed on the sofa. "Something came over you and you haven't been the same for a long, long time." I began to protest, but before the words escaped my mouth, I knew she was right. I really hadn't been in love with her, either, it seems and had only been going through the motions. So, I packed my few belongings in the trunk of my car and drove to a hotel near the international airport, thinking about where I'd go from here. In just a matter of hours, I'd gone from having a great job and a wife to being unemployed and suddenly on the path to divorce. I had no idea where tomorrow would take me, if it took me anywhere at all. I spent the next three days in that hotel room, sleeping, mostly, but asking myself how I'd gotten to this shitty place in my life Finally, after three days of not eating, I awoke one early and dark morning just after midnight realizing I needed food. There was a small diner just down the street from my hotel. I'd paid for the next three days and so, had set myself up for doing nothing more than reading and sulking about my current position in life. The only thing I knew I wanted was to get out of the city, to escape the smog and the people and everything else that goes along with living in a metropolis. I felt as if I couldn't breathe and knew I needed space. Other than that, I had no idea what it was I needed, although some nagging, unanswerable question seemed to always be at the back of my mind. So, maybe I was looking for answers to questions I hadn't asked yet when I sat down for a late meal at the small restaurant.

The waitress who served me had seen better days, for sure. Her name was Rosie, and if she was a day younger than sixty years of age, I'll eat my hat. Her hair was flaming red, the tint that has to be applied manually because human hair just can't get that red. She had a beauty mole on her right cheek that may or may not have been real, but I didn't care. It was her eyes that caught my attention as she took my order. Well, her eyes, her tits, and her personality. Eyes so blue I was reminded of the Montana sky beamed back at me as she took my order.

There are two things that always catch my attention when I'm looking at a woman: her tits and her personality. And Rosie had both. I'd never seen a waitress wear stiletto heels while working before, but Rosie made it work. Each step she took on the greasy floor caused her wide ass to wiggle from side to side. Or maybe she was just doing that intentionally. When she leaned over to take my order, I saw a line of cleavage that matched the Rio Grande River: long and deep. Rosie saw me staring at her tits as they almost fell from her light blue waitress uniform. It was that knowing smile that set me at ease, though. I guess I just decided that she'd had her tits stared at so many times, she either didn't care anymore, or she was proud of the fact that the two huge melons could still attract the attention of men of any age. And she made me smile when she leaned in close after taking my order and said, "By the way, honey: they're real." She laughed loud and hard as she strolled back to the kitchen window to give the night cook my order. I drank coffee and looked around at the empty diner, no one else in the building except me, Rosie, and the cook.

That's why I didn't mind when Rosie sat my food on the table and slid into the booth across the table from me, a cup of coffee in her hand. I stared at her hands for a long moment too: the nails were brighter than her hair, but her fingers were long and graceful. Rosie let me eat in silence for several moments before speaking. "You know, hon, I've been waiting on people for most of my life, and if there's one thing I can spot a mile away, it's someone who needs someone to talk to." She sipped from her coffee mug, sat the cup on the table and said, "And I believe that's you. Am I right?" The fork I'd been using was halfway to my mouth, but I stopped its upward motion, and stared back at Rosie, suddenly aware that although I'd told her very little, I had the sense she knew quite a bit about me. I lowered the fork and for reasons I didn't understand until later, began to tell Rosie the waitress my story. My food was cold by the time I finished, but I didn't care. I knew it wasn't hunger that had brought me to the diner: it was just the need to have someone listen to my story. And that person was Rosie. It was near five o'clock in the morning when I finished speaking: I felt as if I'd somehow expressed my concerns, my doubts, my disillusion with all the things I didn't understand.

"So, there you have it, Rosie," I said when I finished my tale of woe. Rosie rose from the table and returned with yet another pot of hot black coffee, filling my mug one final time before sliding in the booth, again across the table. "I guess I'm looking for something: I just don't know what it is I'm searching for." I brought the mug to my lips and sipped the hot brew, enjoying the strong taste, but enjoying Rosie's company more. I finally looked at her and said, "Maybe what I'm looking for isn't to be found, Rosie." I sat the mug on the table and with my eyes staring at the swirling black fluid, said, "Maybe not. I don't really know anymore."

"You know, Steve, if it's answers you're looking for, well, honey, I'm fresh out," she said as she leaned back in the booth and stared out the window for a long, quiet moment. She lit a cigarette and continued to stare through the darkened glass as the hazy, blue-tinted smoke rose about her head. Finally, she turned to me and slid her hand across the table, covering my right hand. Her skin was soft for a waitress, softer still for a woman who had passed sixty years of age. When she spoke, her words were soft as her skin, but measured and well-thought out. "Have you ever heard of Route 66, Steve?" She asked. When I replied that yes, I knew about the lonely, two lane road that ran from Los Angeles to Chicago and made its way through some of the remotest parts of the nation, Rosie squeezed my hand. "Well, then, lover," she said, "there's your answer." For a long moment, Rosie's hand remained on mine as she allowed me to think about what she'd just said. But to be honest, I was confused: How could a lonely stretch of road stretching halfway across the nation, which avoided many of the country's major cities, provide me with answers? Before I could ask Rosie what she meant, she suddenly rose from the booth, snubbed her cigarette in an ashtray, and said, "Well, it's been nice Steve, but I have to get back to work. I get off at seven o'clock, and the morning rush is on its way." She turned to go, then turned back to me and said, "You think about what I said, baby: think about what that road means." Again she turned, and clicked her way across the diner to behind the counter where she became occupied with filling the sugar dispensers. I sat there watching Rosie, and after five minutes, tossed a twenty dollar bill on the table and made my way back to the hotel. I suddenly needed sleep, and the thought of my bed seemed very, very welcoming.

But sleep wouldn't come. So many thoughts ran through my head: The sudden firing, the soon to be divorce. The prospect of having absolutely nothing in front of me that I placed any value on. I believed I was going nowhere, and going there fast. These thoughts overcame me and I sat staring out the hotel window. Maybe some fresh air will help, I told myself and so, went to stand in the cool early morning air on the hotel balcony. From where I stood, I had a view of a city park, several stores, and below me, the hotel parking lot. What am I suppose to do? I asked myself. Where am I supposed to be? What will I become of me now that I have no job and no wife? Some discrete movement to my left caught my eye and I turned my head in that direction. Perhaps it was some animal, I said, just as my eyes settled on my car.

And in an instant, it all came together for me. I knew what I would do. I'd take Rosie's advice about Route 66, and I'd travel across the country. I'd write that book I'd been putting off for years now. And maybe along the way, I'd find something - anything - that would bring the old Steve back to life. My heart leapt with a joy that had been absent for many years and I knew that I owed this moment of extreme clarity to a sixty-three year old waitress named Rosie. Suddenly with my head the clearest it had been in years, I knew what it was I needed to do.

I also knew I needed sleep if I was to begin a cross-country drive. Although I still had doubts about my future, I knew I at least had a starting point. I couldn't wait to get started but because I had no deadlines whatsoever, I decided a few hours of restful sleep would do me good. I removed all my clothes, and as I always do, slipped between the sheets totally nude.

I dreamed that I was in the middle of a large orchestra, standing beside the large bass drum. And each time the drummer banged on the instrument, the vibrations traveled through me and gathered in my head. I felt as if I couldn't escape the dream, as if I was trapped, but I knew that if I could just escape the pounding, if I could just step away from the drummer, I'd be okay. I knew the pounding represented the problems in my life, the dead ends. In retrospect, I later came to believe the incessant pounding represented the pressures that had fallen over me in the past several years, and the long, lonely road between Los Angeles and Chicago represented the way to answers. Or, at least, I hope that's what they signified. But the dream continued, and I tossed under the blanket until finally awakening, until my head caused me to come to reality again. Looking around, I suddenly realized that it hadn't been the drum that had awakened me, but, rather, the loud, consistent pounding on my hotel room door. I glanced at the clock: eight o'clock. Rising and pulling the jeans over my naked lower torso, I made my way to the door, certain the building was on fire.

I was surprised, then, when I opened the door and saw Rosie standing in the doorframe with a bag of pastries and two cups of coffee. She'd changed out of her waitress uniform and now stood before me dressed in tight fitting jeans, a tighter, chest-hugging blouse, and the same, black, three inch stiletto heels she'd worn at the restaurant. "Good morning, lover," she said, her smile as bright as the morning sun. "I thought you might want a bit of breakfast." I suppose in my still sleep-fogged state, I appeared to Rosie as a madman. I stood mute, unable to speak, uncertain how she'd found me. "When you've been working at the diner as long as I have, baby, you get to know people. The manager and I were old lovers once, and he still has feelings for me. I had a hunch you were here, he confirmed it, and here I am." But I still stood silently until Rosie asked, "Well, are you going to ask me in or do I have to stand out here with the fucking pigeons?" Coming to my senses, finally, I stood to the side and allowed Rosie to enter the small room, laughing as I did. The scent of her thickly-applied perfume followed along behind her.

Rosie sat the bag of pastries and the two coffees on a small, round-shaped table, her back to me. I have no idea how she squeezed her ass into those jeans: I really don't. I mean, it appeared as if the denim had been spray painted onto her backside, the garment was so tight. My eyes, as always, assessed Rosie's backside and I realized that the waitress uniform she wore everyday did her absolutely no justice. It wasn't as if she had the ass of a model, by any means, but her ass was, for a lady in her early sixties, shapelier than many women her age. And her legs: How had I missed the fact that they seemed toned and strong? My physical assessment of Rosie ended when I heard her say, "You gonna stare at my ass all morning, Steve, or are you having breakfast with me?" Laughing again, I joined Rosie at the small table and for the next thirty minutes, enjoyed her company yet again. She seemed overjoyed when I described my plans for getting away, for seeing the country. But, in her infinite wisdom, Rosie the Waitress also had an idea.

"I'm sure your book will be very popular," Rosie said when I informed her of my plans. Rosie extended her arm and placed her bright-nailed hand over mine. There was nothing sensual or suggestive about Rosie's touch: no, it was a friendly touch, a way of reassuring a new-found friend that someone did, indeed, care about them. "Think about it," she said when she saw my look of hesitation. "You're going to travel and see things you've never seen, meet people you never expected to encounter. Write about what you see." For a long, quiet moment, I stared into Rosie's eyes, wondering how she'd come to know so much about me in such a short time. I looked at Rosie and asked myself how she could ever have become so wise.

With breakfast ended, Rosie asked what my plans were for the remainder of the day. I informed her I still had two days left on the room, and I really hadn't made any plans. "Well, you have plans now, honey," she said. "You're going to shower and we're going on a picnic." Laughing again - it suddenly dawned on me how little of that I'd done lately - I accepted Rosie's offer. "Good. You get in the shower, and I'll get everything I need from the market down the street." We stood and for the first time, Rosie leaned toward me, and placed her ruby red lips on my cheek. "Oh, now look what I've done," she said as she wiped a lipstick smudge from my cheek. "Your wife is going to wonder who you've been messing around with." As soon as Rosie's words left her mouth, the room turned deadly silent.

It's amazing how much a simple comment like Rosie's could sting, even with the decision I'd made to get away. Her words shouldn't have hurt so bad, but they did, and I guess my face showed the anguish I felt. Suddenly, everything that had happened in the past few days rushed back at me, and I felt the pressure flood over me and cause my mood to darken.

But as I said, Rosie was a wise woman, and she too sensed the sudden damage her words had caused. "Steve, I am so sorry," she said, her eyes now focused on mine. "I never meant to say anything that would hurt you." I wasn't sure what to say, either, but surprisingly, the one emotion I felt the most of was sympathy for Rosie. She'd come to me as a friend, and she'd brought breakfast. And I felt I owed her an explanation, to let her know she hadn't caused any of the damage of the past week.

"Come here, Rosie," I said as I drew her to my naked chest. Her long arms wrapped around me and pulled me in tight to her body, the pressure of her two immense tits tight against my bare chest. In her ear, I whispered, "Baby, you have nothing to apologize for." We stood there, Rosie and I, for what seemed an eternity, wrapped in each other's warm embrace, wrapped in each other's new-found friendship, wrapped in each other's desire to see the other be as happy as possible. I laid my head against her shoulder and sighed, back now, happy that she was here.

I guess it was because I relaxed my body position that my hands traveled downward and fell against Rosie's jean-covered ass. Perhaps the move was unconscious, and unplanned. Perhaps the move was intentional, and I meant to do it. Either way, I felt Rosie's body stiffen when my hands fell upon each shapely ass cheek. Realizing immediately what it was I'd done, I lifted my head to apologize. The words, however, never became audible.

That's because as I lifted my head from Rosie's shoulder to utter the words of apology, before any words escaped my lips, Rosie's tongue entered my mouth. In an instant, I felt her tongue slide between my lips and begin the passionate search for my tongue. When our tongues met, I pressed myself tighter against the sixty-three year old waitress, my hands leaving her ass and now traveling upward, to her waist. What are you doing, Steve, I asked myself, but before I could answer my own question, I slid my hand up and under Rosie's silk blouse, the combination of the luxurious fabric and her soft skin erotic to my fingertips. Upward still, and I found the wide bra strap, my hands now under the broad, thick, silk garment, searching for, and then finding the clasp. With a twist of my fingers, the bra clasp opened and I now had full access to the rear of Rosie's upper body. The bra strap fell over my hands, adding to the overall sensual effect. Rosie moaned through the kiss as she felt my eager and hungry hands begin to explore the bare skin of her back.

Perhaps it was the pent up frustration of the past week that caused me to kiss and to undress Rosie. I don't know, but what I do know was at that time, as I slipped her blouse and bra over her extremely red hair and exposed her tits, I was a man on a mission, and I would not be denied. Breaking the kiss only long enough to remove the blouse from Rosie's body, I stood amazed at what had to be the largest set of titties I'd come into contact with at that point in my life. Two, massive 44dd tits stared at me, the nipples long and erect, the areoles as dark as chocolate. I suppose I stared for what seemed a long time, and perhaps Rosie grew frustrated with my delay, but when she cupped each tit in her palm and held them up to me, I did not hesitate to extend my neck forward and place my hungry lips on her nipples.

"Well, I was beginning to believe you didn't like tits," I heard Rosie say above me. "Oh, yes, Steve," she cooed, "Suck Rosie's titties, baby." As best as I could, I stood there and sucked Rosie's nipples deeply, erotically, bathing the fleshy, thimble-shaped buttons with my saliva. Rosie made sure to caress my face with the sides of her fingers whenever my mouth ventured far enough to the side for her to touch me. Finally, although I hadn't had enough of sucking Rosie's humongous tits, she gently lifted my head until I stood chest to chest with her, and embraced me again. But rather than kiss me, Rosie whispered into my ear, "How does it feel to be standing almost naked with a sixty-three year old waitress, baby?"

In response, I stepped back, and taking Rosie by the hand, led her to the bed. I sat, Rosie's still-concealed cunt at eye level. Her hands rested on my bare shoulders, and when I lifted my chin to look at Rosie, the view was obstructed by the two mammoth titties resting on her chest. But I didn't need to see her face to know that this older woman wanted me sexually as much then as I wanted her. It was when I heard her ask, "You waiting for an invitation, baby?" that I went into action.

With my eyes now focused on the task ahead, I unclasped Rosie's jeans and opened the garment hoping to expose her panties. But, to my surprise as much as to my pleasure, Rosie was not wearing panties. Surprisingly, what greeted me as I gradually spread the jeans wider was not a pair of pink, or white or black panties but, instead, the thickest mat of cunt hair I've ever seen. As I lowered Rosie's jeans and tugged them closer to her high heeled feet, her upper thighs came into view, tanned and seemingly well-toned. But it was her cunt bush, that thick, dense rug of pussy hair that gained my greatest interest. "I see you found my secret, baby," Rosie said as she lifted first one foot, then the other and squirmed out of the tight-fitting jeans. Standing completely naked now, Rosie bent forward at the waist, the change in position causing her huge titties to brush against my face. Rosie kissed me long, deeply, and hard before standing again and guiding my hands to her cunt. I inserted my fingers inside the inch-thick dense rug and pushed forward until the last knuckle on my index finger was visible. And to my astonishment, although my finger was completely buried inside Rosie's pussy hair rug, it had not yet made contact with her cunt. "So, how do you like what I call my own personal ‘welcome mat'?" Rosie asked. I shook my head, but by now I was determined to find her cunt with my fingers. One more forceful push, and I was through, the tip of my finger discovering a wet, slippery mess under the canopy of the thickest mat of cunt hairs I'd yet encountered. "Oh, baby, you found Rosie's love pit," the older woman moaned as she began to swivel her hips in a circular motion. When I pushed again, Rosie moaned again, louder now, and began to dig her sharp, pointed nails into my bare shoulders. Another push, and the entire length of my index finger lay buried to the last knuckle in Rosie's hairy pussy. I felt an increased level of pain as Rosie dug her sharp pointed nails deeper into my skin. With my eyes focused on Rosie's incredibly hairy cunt, I could hear her moaning above me, although I could not see her mouth. "Oh, baby, oh baby," I heard Rosie now, her voice low-toned with lust. "Oh yes, baby, stick that finger in my old pussy," she said as she began to gyrate her ass in wider circles now. Once again, as the fingernails bit into my skin, I discovered that the faster and deeper I jammed my finger into Rosie's sixty-three year old cunt, the faster she swung he ass from side to side and from front to rear.

It was when I inserted a second finger that matters truly became interesting. "Oh, hell!" Rosie exclaimed loudly as she began to lose herself in the finger fucking. "Motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker!" she again moaned, her voice seemingly coming from some other place. "Oh, yes," she cried.

It was then, with two fingers jammed into her excessively hairy cunt that Rosie the Waitress took charge. Perhaps she'd been waiting for one particular moment, or perhaps it just came to her, but as I furiously finger-fucked this woman I'd met only hours ago, she suddenly lifted her right foot and placed it beside my ass on the bed. To compliment her foot lifting action, she also removed both hands from my shoulders, placed the palms on the back of my head and forcefully pushed my face into her dense-haired cunt.

The first sensation I had was that of almost being suffocated, the hair on her cunt was so thick. I mean it: the hair covering Rosie's cunt was so thick that it almost completely stuffed my nose and mouth and I came close to not being able to breathe. But I was here, my mouth just millimeters from her cunt, and I was not going to turn back now. Feeling the pressure of Rosie's leg pressed against my side, and with her hands holding my face pressed against her pussy, I did the only thing I knew to do: I removed the two fingers from her cunt, used them to keep the thick mat of cunt hair away from her pussy lips, and dove in.

"You little bastard," Rosie moaned when my tongue made contact with her cunt. "Oh, you little motherfucker!" she cooed, once again swiveling her naked ass in all directions to provide me with the best location to lick the juices from her cunt. "Oh, yes, that it, yes, baby, you hit the spot," she said as I continued to batter away at her cunt with my tongue. For the next several moments, I licked her clit, I sucked the pussy lips deeply into my mouth, and I continued to finger fuck this incredible older woman, hoping I could somehow drive her to an oral orgasm before fucking her.

And it was just seconds later that Rosie ceased swiveling her ass. Her entire body began to shake, the tremors beginning in her cunt where my mouth was busy sucking on her clit. "OH, FUCK, STEVE, OH, FUCK, STEVE!" she screamed, louder than I'd heard any other woman yell while being fucked. "YES, MOTHERFUCKER!" she moaned as the orgasm surged, growing more intense by the second. I was certain Rosie's orgasm would end there with me holding her ass in one hand and finger fucking and sucking her cunt with the other. But again, I was wrong about Rosie: and I'm glad I was.

I suddenly felt my body being pushed backward onto the bed, the force of the backward motion propelling me halfway across the mattress. I lifted my head to see where Rosie was, but it was already too late. She was moving into position to straddle my face with her hairy cunt, using her own hand to separate the pussy lips. "EAT ME, COCKSUCKER!" Rosie yelled just before squatting on my face and pushing her cunt lips once more against my mouth. I was suddenly cast in semi-darkness as Rosie began to slide her pussy across my face, thrusting her ass forward so that the pussy lips entered my mouth, then slid away until returning when the old waitress moved her ass forward again. "Oh, yes, this is what I wanted, oh hell, yes!" I heard Rosie moan. For several moments, I continued to eat away at Rosie's cunt until once more feeling her legs begin to shake, and knew she was once more on the verge of an orgasm. I decided to add one additional feature of our lovemaking, something I wasn't sure Rosie would enjoy.

Extending my arms upward, I grasped each wide ass cheek, then slid the hands together in the middle of Rosie's ass crack. "Oh, my, what's going on back there?" Rosie asked although she did not slow the speed of the cunt slides across my now pussy-juice soaked mouth. When I jammed the middle finger of my right hand into her asshole, Rosie flinched slightly, but she remained positioned over my face and mouth. "Oh, oh, oh," Rosie cooed, but made no effort to dislodge my finger from her ass. Feeling bold now, and suspecting Rosie was the type who enjoyed sexual surprises as much as I do, I moved my left hand tighter beside the right and jammed that middle finger deep into Rosie's asshole. Now, the two longest fingers on my body were jammed deep inside Rosie's ass, and from the sounds I was hearing, she was enjoying the experience. "Oh, my, my, my," she murmured. "Oh, baby, I think I like this," she said. "Yes, baby, I like this a lot!"

The eruption of Rosie's orgasm took me completely by surprise. The tremors came unannounced as Rosie's pussy suddenly began to spasm from the sexual orgasm beginning to take root and travel to every corner of her body. "OH, FUCK, STEVE!" I heard her scream as she slammed her excessively hairy cunt forcefully onto my face and pinned my head to the pillow. "MOTHERFUCKER, MOTHERFUCKER, MOTHERFUCKER!" she moaned loudly as I created an oral lock on her sixty-three year old pussy lips and sucked each of the fleshy lips deep into my mouth. By now, my hand was working overtime as I continued to finger fuck Rosie's ass. Rosie responded by keeping her cunt pinned to my face, but sliding her ass in rearward and backward motions, somehow maintaining the lock I had on her cunt but not breaking contact with the fingers I had jammed up her ass, either. ‘YES, BITCH, YES!" Rosie screamed as she reached the high point of her orgasm. "BABY, IT'S BEEN TOO FUCKING LONG!" Rosie moaned as the sexual seizures began to subside and Rosie slowed her face-riding motions. When the orgasm ended, Rosie lifted her pussy from my face, the upward lifting of her body causing my fingers to slide from her asshole. She laid her amazingly fit body beside me, and caressed my bare chest with her soft hands while applying light, sensual kisses to my face. "Baby, that was something, believe me," she said just before kissing me deeply. When she broke the kiss she rolled onto her back and said, "It's been a long time since I fucked, Steve: entirely too long, in fact." I turned my head and saw those amazing tits packed onto Rosie's chest. So far, I'd only been able to kiss them for a short time. Because I've always loved big titties, I rolled to my right until I hovered over Rosie's naked body, and began to apply erotic kisses to the half-dollar sized nipples still erect and long from the sexual ride I'd given her only moments before. Rosie moaned softly as I bit, kissed, and sucked each titty, as I drew the nipple into my mouth. The old waitress screamed in mock pain when I took the long left nipple between my front teeth, clamped down on the fleshy bud, and drew my head upward, the nipple following me. "Hey, that hurts!" Rosie said with laughter in her voice. "Let go!"

By now, my cock was harder than it had been in a long, long time. But I really needed to piss, and reluctantly rose from the bed to make my way to the bathroom. "Hey, where are you going?" Rosie asked from the bed. When I told her I needed to relieve myself, she quickly lifted her ass from the bed, her massive tits swaying like two watermelons suspended from her chest. Watching her in awe, Rosie stepped into her high heels, wrapped her arm around my waist and said, "Well, then, let's go." Confused, but needing to piss badly, I entered the small bathroom and stood by the toilet with Rosie by my side. I glanced sideways at my bathroom companion, still uncertain why she was there. Finally, Rosie asked, "You gonna take all day to lower those trousers, honey, or do you want me to do that for you too?" Before I could respond, Rosie bent halfway forward at the waist and unclasped my jeans, my hard cock springing into view. "Well, now, isn't that a sight?" Rosie asked, her eyes as wide as mine had been when I spied her massive set of tits for the first time. "Oh, yes, I think this will do just fine," she said as she began to stroke the shaft with a tightly-closed fist. "Steve, baby, I had no idea."

As much as I was enjoying having Rosie stroke my cock, the fact remained that I still needed to piss, and badly. I mentioned this to Rosie who retained her grip on my cock. Looking at me, with her huge titties pressed against my right arm, she said, "So go ahead, Steve. Piss, baby." Still not understanding, Rosie smiled at me and said, "I'll hold it for you while you piss." Seeing that she was determined to hold my cock while I pissed, and deciding, what the hell, I finally relaxed, pointed my cock downward and in seconds, a steady stream of gold-colored piss flowed from the head of my cock. Rosie ensured the cock remained pointed downward, her eyes intently focused on the warm stream of fluid escaping my body. It seemed as if I'd had a gallon of water before Rosie's arrival: the small, yellow-colored river went on and on and on. Without looking at me, her eyes still on the stream of piss, Rosie said, "Yes, that's it honey, get rid of it all." When the piss finally ceased, I flushed the toilet and attempted to step back, but again, Rosie had other ideas. I took one step back before Rosie stopped my movement.

"No where do you think you're going?" she asked as she pivoted on the high heel and stood before me, her grasp still tight around my cock. "You might be finished in here, but I'm not." With the swift ease of a woman half her age, Rosie quickly lowered the toilet seat, placed her naked ass on the cool surface, and sat now, my hard cock now wrapped in both of Rosie's hands. "You need to clean this thing, Steve," she said. "Don't you know that?"

With small drops of warm piss still dripping from my cock, Rosie opened her mouth and inserted the shaft of my dick between her lips. Her lips wrapped tightly around the shaft as she inhaled my hard cock. I watched Rosie's eyes with great interest to determine if having warm piss in her mouth had affected her in any way. But rather than displaying an expression that displayed revulsion, instead, Rosie's face showed extreme pleasure, as I'm sure it did when I ate her cunt. Her ruby red lips traveled the length of my cock, taking in every millimeter, her head now a blur of motion as this amazing sixty-three year old waitress made a joy out of taking my cock into her mouth.

But I wanted more, and I decided to take action. When Rosie's head drew back to the point that her lips rested only on the head of my cock, I gently stepped back, my cock sliding from between her lips. Rosie looked up at me, clearly confused. But I was determined, and so, lifted the old woman to her high-heeled feet. As soon as she stood, she understood what it was I wanted. But what she did not anticipate was that I wanted to fuck her here, in the bathroom. I swung my body around so that I was now between Rosie's body and the toilet, sat down, and while holding my meaty cock in my hands, ordered Rosie to sit. "Here, baby," I said. "It's time."

Rosie smiled, spread her legs and straddled my body. The bottoms of her mammoth tits swung close to my mouth as she lowered her body down until the tip of my cock rested against her soaking wet cunt lips. "Don't make me wait, Rosie," I said. "I want to fuck you here." Rosie responded by smiling, leaning forward, then slamming her old cunt downward with enough force that the entire length of my cock slid easily inside her pussy, all the way downward until my ring of cock hairs entwined with her massively thick cunt covering. "Oh, shit," I moaned as my thirty-two year old cock slid deep into her sixty-three year old pussy. Rosie, ever the sexually experienced woman, began to lift and drop her ass in a series of cock rides that caused her tits to flap against my face. With both hands, I held each huge melon to my mouth, taking both extended nipples into mu hungry mouth while Rosie's cunt swallowed my hungry cock. "You old whore," I sad as Rosie began to ride my cock like a pony, excited that she smiled at me when I referred to her as a whore.

"You bet your sweet ass I'm an old whore," Rosie responded. "That's because I love to fuck, baby!" Faster now, Rosie began to drive on my cock until I felt the twinges of an orgasm brewing in my cock. With each downward movement, Rosie's naked ass slapped against my bare upper thighs, her ass cheeks causing large red marks to appear on my legs just above the knees. "That's it, baby, that's it" Rosie whispered into my ear. "I'm going to come with you, baby." Somehow increasing her speed, Rosie leaned forward and continued to engulf my hard cock between two of the wettest cunt lips I'd ever encountered. "Fuck me, goddamn it, fuck me!" Rosie said, almost breathlessly now. "Come inside my pussy, baby," Rosie said. "Fill my cunt with your come."

More ass-to-thigh slapping sounds filled the small hotel bathroom and I focused on the coming orgasm. I decided that since Rosie had already had had one sexual explosion, it would be okay for me to come inside her. It was when she leaned back, her hands resting on my shoulders, her massive tits flaying before my face, that I began to feel the first, early signs of a sexual eruption coming. Wrapping my hands around Rosie's sixty-three year old ass, I pulled her tighter to me, her super-sized tits pressed against my chest. "Come in my cunt, cocksucker," Rosie hissed at me, her eyes half-closed in sexual pleasure. She suddenly grasped both sides of my head in her hands and said, "Come in my cunt!"

And it was then, with those words, that my cock exploded into a series of crashing, waves, load after load of hot, white crème spewing from my cock and filling Rosie's old cunt. "OH, FUCK, OH FUCK, OH, FUCK! I screamed now, my orgasm ripping through me like an electric wave. "ROSIE, BABY!" I moaned as Rosie did her best to prolong the sexual explosion that overcame me and caused me to grasp Rosie's ass cheeks so tightly that she cried out in pain. Rosie's naked ass slapped so violently against my upper thighs that I later saw evidence of huge red splotches where her skin had come into contact with mine. But for now, here in the hotel's small-sized bathroom, the most important fact was that my thirty-two year old cock was being swallowed entirely by Rosie's sixty-three year old, heavily haired cunt. Each time Rosie's cunt made contact with the base of my cock, it was as if a huge, red-colored sponge softened the blow. But I can assure you of one thing: Nothing would have softened the blow of Rosie's old cunt as it continued to rise to the upper limit of my cock before she quickly and forcefully slammed the two wide pussy lips downward again and once more every millimeter of my hard dick slid easily and fully into her cunt. Because of the crushing orgasm, I leaned backward and elevated my hips slightly to force more of my cock into Rosie's cunt. The cool temperature of the porcelain toilet contrasted nicely with the sexual heat rising from my body.

But as I leaned backward and attempted to fuck Rosie harder and deeper, Rosie's level of sexual experience surfaced yet again and she leaned forward, her massive, 44dd tits pressed tighter against me now. She quickly wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my body to her, our mouths once again meeting and engaging in a deep, sensual kiss, two tongues probing, seeking, and finding the other. I felt Rosie's body begin to quiver slightly, as if she were cold. But despite our lips being pressed together as if put there by a welder, Rosie began to moan through the kiss, and I realized that each downward thrust of her ass seemed to linger more when it reached the base of my cock. Each upward thrust was quickly terminated and once again, I felt the warm, exceedingly wet sensation of two pussy lips engulfing my cock, and again, Rosie maintaining the cunt to cock contact when her ass settled down upon the full length of my dick. Rosie broke the kiss, leaned back, and with her hands resting on my shoulders, her huge, massive titties still flaying about my face, closed her eyes and began to make a soft, almost wailing sound that grew louder with each second. "Steve, Steve, Steve," Rosie cooed, as she dug her fingernails into my skin, and after digging her high-heeled feet into the tiled bathroom floor, began to quiver violently as what was obviously an orgasm began to overtake her body. "Motherfucker, motherfucker," she said, "Motherfucker, I'm coming!"

Now, I've had plenty of women ride my cock while experiencing an orgasm, so seeing that Rosie was coming while her cunt swallowed my dick was nothing new to me., But you must remember: Rosie was more than thirty years older than me and this was my first experience with an older woman, especially one who seemed to enjoy being fucked so much. But there was something different about having Rosie come on my cock: It was what her pussy did to my cock each time a wave of orgasm washed over her body that caught my attention. With each downward thrust, with each full-length engulfing of my cock into the wet and deep depths of Rosie's pussy, her cunt muscles contracted to apply additional pressure on my shaft, and the orgasm I was experiencing intensified dramatically. "I'M COMING, STEVE, I'M FUCKING COMING!" Rosie screamed, her voice echoing off the tile bathroom walls. ‘MOTHERFUCKER, BUT I'M COMING!"

Now, up to this point, I'd released a substantial amount of hot, white crème into Rosie's sixty-three year old cunt. I'd leaned forward by this point and had taken the huge, half-dollar sized left nipple into my mouth and was biting on it forcefully, drawing the huge, pointed tit bud deep into my mouth. But the nipple was suddenly ripped from my mouth when Rosie stood abruptly, grasped a huge shank of hair covering my head, and in one, quick but graceful move, suddenly propped the toe of her right high heeled shoe against the wall behind my head, and forced my face against her thick-haired cunt. Although I'd already deposited a huge amount of come into Rosie's pussy, the white crème continued to ooze from my cock as the last stages of my orgasm began to subside and my body seemed wracked with pleasure. But when the lights suddenly dimmed as the result of my face now being slammed against Rosie's cunt lips, it was then that I felt, for the first time in my life, powerful, violent spasms as Rosie's orgasm terminated in her pussy lips. From above me, I heard her say, "EAT ME, COCK SUCKER, WHILE I COME ON YOUR FACE!" Rosie continued to press my face against her come-oozing cunt, causing my own spew to seep between my lips. The salty-tart taste of come coated my tongue as I decided to go with the moment and cleanse Rosie's thick-haired cunt of my load. "That's it, baby," Rosie said above me, her words half-muffled by both the thick rug of cunt hair and the pressure of her legs squeezing my head in a tight vise like movement. "Just eat Rosie's cunt, baby," she said. "Clean it for me."

I continued to lap at Rosie's cunt until the sixty-three year old waitress decided she'd had enough of me jamming my tongue deep into her pussy. Finally, she lowered her foot to the floor, stepped back and helped me to my feet. "Well, look at that," the big-titted Rosie said as she dipped her chin to stare at my cock. I looked as well and saw a long, thick sliver of come dripping from the head of my cock. "It would be a shame to waste that," Rosie said, suddenly dropping to her bare knees on the bathroom floor and quickly inserting my now almost limp cock between her lips. Just as she'd done after holding my cock while I pissed, Rosie swallowed the length of my cock. I felt her amazing tongue swirling around the shaft as she did her best to cleanse my cock of both her cunt juices and my come. When she'd finally had enough, Rosie stood, pressed her naked, 44dd tits against my chest and kissed me deeply, sliding her tongue into my mouth, again the taste of come entered my mouth. I guess I'd come to accept the proof of my orgasms in my mouth now, realizing that the taste of my come wasn't as offensive as I might have imagined before my meetings with Rosie. We continued to kiss for several long moments, me standing naked against Rosie who wore nothing more than the three inch heels she'd worn throughout our sexual encounter.

When the kiss broke, Rosie led me by the hand to the bed where she laid me gently upon the mattress, then laid her own body warmly bedside mine. We kissed deeply and erotically until I felt certain stirrings in my cock again. Rosie saw my cock coming to life again and after wrapping her warm hand around the shaft, began to pump my cock until I was once more concrete hard. "Oh, my, look what I've done now," Rosie said as she lifted her body from the bed, straddled my waist and lowered her densely covered cunt down until the entire length of my cock rested between her pussy lips. Rosie began a series of slow back and forth rocking motions on my cock, her hands resting on my chest, her huge titties swaying to the motion. She leaned forward enough that each huge nipple remained suspended just inches from my face. "Kiss my nipples, baby," she said. "Can you do that for this old broad?"

For long, sensual moments, I sucked Rosie's thick, hard nipples between my lips and into my mouth. Because I'd been rough on the nipples earlier, I decided to suck the titty buttons gently, loving them, swirling each nipple with my tongue. "Oh, yes, baby, Rosie like having her titties sucked," the old waitress said above me as she increased the tempo of the rocking motion between her cunt and my cock. I extended each arm and wrapped my now sweating palms onto Rosie's ass cheeks, the flesh somewhat flabby. But I didn't care about any of that because of the intense sexual sensations that brewed in my cock. Faster now, and Rosie suddenly lifted her chest upward, the nipples flying from my mouth. "Oh, shit, Steve," Rosie said, "I think I'm coming again!"

The room suddenly erupted with sounds of Rosie screaming as if she'd been injured. ‘FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" She cried, ‘I'M, COMING AGAIN!" Violent spasms covered Rosie's body as she began to lift and drop her naked ass again on my cock, the condensed rug of heavy, coarse cunt hair acting as a sort of cushion again between her cunt and my cock. "MOTHERFUCKER!" Rosie said before collapsing onto my chest. Heavy breathing accompanied with vibrations from her pounding heart filled my ears as Rosie rested after coming so soon. I kissed her neck and ears while massaging her sweat-covered, broad back, letting my hands glide over her soft skin while she regained her breath and strength. A few moments later, Rosie once again curled against my side and we slept for several hours. I awoke to the sounds of Rosie singing as she showered. Rising from the bed, I crossed the small bedroom and joined her under the warm, pulsating water. "Well, look who's decided to join the living," Rosie cooed as I pressed my naked body against hers under the hot water. I felt Rosie's hand automatically go to my cock, and after several moments of coaxing the meaty shaft back to life, she knelt on her knees under the hot water sucked my cock until I exploded inside her mouth again. Somehow, we made it through the remainder of the shower, cleansing our bodies.

But the sex didn't stop there. No, in fact, as I said earlier, I still had several days left on the room. Rosie called her boss and explained that she needed the next two days off, the smile on her face as she replaced the phone upon its cradle proof that she'd been given the time she needed. Several times, Rosie ordered takeout food from a local delivery service, and even answered the door completely nude several times. "I guess you can see I'm a bit of an exhibitionist, lover," she said after giving some teenaged delivery boy an unexpected eye full of her thick covered cunt and massive tits. When we weren't fucking or eating, we talked.

"Take Route 66, Steve," Rosie said time after time. "Learn about this country from a viewpoint very few people ever get to experience." The more Rosie suggested I travel across the country at my own pace, and under my own terms, the more convinced I became that she was right. I would take the time, and I'd do it from ground level. I'd travel the backroads of this nation to learn of its people, to discover things other could or would not. Sometime late in the night of the second day of Rosie's stay, I slipped from the bed while she slept and made my way to my car. I gathered a few personal belongings as well as certain vehicle-related documents, and made my way back to the room. For several hours, unable to sleep now, I watched I watched Rosie sleep while I decided what to do about my belongings and the car.

Rosie's words had struck deep, and she had a point about seeing the country and finding myself. But I realized that if I were to truly see what this country had to offer, I would be encumbered by the car. With a few quick strokes of the pen, I signed ownership of my car over to Rosie and slipped the registration into her purse. When she awoke, I explained that she was now the proud owner of my car.

Rosie left me at the end of the second night, after what had become a marathon of fucking and deep, meaningful conversation. I watched her as she dressed in the same tight fitting jeans and blouse she'd arrived in, realizing that she'd worn her clothes less than an hour in the past forty-eight hours. I was amazed, my eyes in wide-eyed wonder as I watched Rosie cram each of her 44dd tits into the blouse, believing that the seams of the blouse would certainly split at any seconds as the massive melons pressed the limits of the shirt. When she was dressed, Rosie lifted me from the bed, kissed me gently, and said she loved me. "I don't know if we'll ever see each other again, Steve," she said, a hint of sadness in her voice. "You need to go, tomorrow morning, and find yourself. If you find yourself back this way again, you know where the diner is." One small, lone tear fell from her right eye, the drop of moisture tracing a path down Rosie's cheek and smearing her makeup. A final kiss, and Rosie was out the door and gone. I closed the door gently behind her, sorry to see this incredible, sixty-three year old woman leaving me.

It was when I turned to make my way back to the bed that I spied the envelope lying on the bedside table. It was a note, written in Rosie's neat hand, explaining that I was to meet her ex-husband tomorrow morning outside the hotel. "Ed will take you as far as the Arizona state line," the note read. "Then he has to turn north to make a delivery in Nevada." The note was soft in my hand and I realized Rosie had written it while we slept. Rosie closed the note with one simple sentence. "Good luck, baby. Good luck."

I spent the remainder of the night alone, fighting the temptation to visit Rosie's diner one final time. I thought about what Rosie had said, about taking the old road from Los Angeles to Chicago, about finding myself, about writing a book about the adventure. I knew there would be as much danger as there would be joy, but it was something I knew I wanted - and had - to do. I decided to earn my way across the nation, to not use my credit cards unless it was absolutely necessary. I'd hitchhike and catch rides when I could. I'd work and I'd earn my meals by trade rather than paying for them. I'd meet the people, and I'd describe them in the book that would come from the road. I was ready, and I was excited. I hardly slept for the remainder of the night.

The next morning, Ed pulled his semi-truck into the hotel parking lot and I climbed aboard. He wasn't much of a talker, but it was clear that he still loved Rosie, something I understood to the depths of my heart. Soon after crossing into Arizona, Ed pulled the truck to the side and explained that he needed to head in a different direction. He shook my hand and, as his ex-wife had done, wished me luck. I stepped down from the rig as the big truck pulled away, a small dust storm swirling around me. No traffic came from either direction as I stood in the bright, glaring sun. The quiet surrounding me was overwhelming. Looking in all directions, I realized there were no people.

I stood in the hot sun for several moments, taking in the task I'd decided to place upon myself. Okay, Steve, this is where your first chapter begins, I said to myself.

"This is perfect," I said outloud. "Just perfect."