My Grey Summer

Literotic asexstories – My Grey Summer by Warkat747,Warkat747
– My Grey Summer –

by

warkat747

*****

Authors note: This story is a work of fiction. All the characters, places, and events, are made up. All the fictitious sexual activity depicted within, is between consenting adults, who are fictional. But it is the authors hope, that in reality, if you have taken the time to read this story, that you found it, at least somewhat, enjoyable. Thank you.

*****

The summer after my freshman year of college was just about upon me and I wasn’t looking forward to it. I had no plans, which meant I would be moving back in with my parents, and if I was lucky, working some soul sucking job for minimum wage until school started again in September. This was fundamentally unchanged from the last two years of high school, which meant my prospects for a sex life were to be equally as unchanged this summer.

I was 19, and a virgin. Pathetically inexperienced with the female sex. My greatest accomplishment had been the summer before when I received a blow job. A single blow job, which hadn’t even lasted long enough for me to cum. In the same encounter I was allowed to reach down into the girl’s underpants and rub her clit, but it was made clear that I was not allowed to finger her. I hadn’t even gotten to look at her pussy. Besides that encounter, my experience consisted of making out with a few girls and sometimes getting to fondle and suck on their boobs. College hadn’t been any better. In fact, other than porn on the internet and my best friends left hand and right hand, it had been a total strike out. This summer was not promising any improvement to that pathetic state.

So, when I received a phone call from one of my cousins asking if I wanted to drive a dump truck for her father-in-law’s construction company that summer, I was intrigued. I admitted that I had never driven a dump truck, or anything even remotely like one, and inquired why she was asking me?

The company in question had landed a contract to open up 152 miles of old railway line that was being rehabilitated for the use of two new open pit mines which were being developed up north. The railways had been built in the 1880s and were now long abandoned. Left to degrade, much of what remained had been reclaimed by forest, been built on by homeowners and businesses that didn’t own the land, washed out by floods, buried by landslides, or were just too steep and twisty for the massive trains that were going to be using them in the near future to haul ore from the new mines at one end, to the nearest port at the other. Her father-in-law’s firm had 153 days from May 1st through September 30th to clear and grade the 152 miles of right-of-way to make maximum profit. Come October 1st, they would start losing money. It was the end of April, and they were desperate for workers. They hadn’t even started yet, and they were already behind schedule.

I told my cousin I was willing, but made it clear that I didn’t think I was a suitable candidate. I gave her a list of concerns I had come up with in the few minutes we were talking, foremost of which was where would I be living, as I am not set up as an itinerant construction worker. But I told her that if she ran my concerns past her father-in-law, and he still thought me useful, I’d take the job.

The next day I got an e-mail from the boss man himself which addressed each of my concerns. He was still offering me a job, and he included how much it would pay. I couldn’t e-mail him back fast enough accepting the offer. As for where I would live, he had written that it was all taken care of, and when I got home I needed to get a ride over to my uncle’s place, and left it at that.

School let out the first Thursday of May and the next day I was on my way to my uncle’s house, being driven over by my Mom. When we got there, we were shown to a massive garage where he kept his vintage car collection. He handed me a set of keys and opened the garage door revealing a high-top VW T3 Syncro camper van that he had rebuilt the previous winter. This was to be my home for the summer. He gave me the full tour, showed me the new Subaru engine, the solar panel on the roof that charged a battery pack that ran everything when the engine was off. Showed me where the propane tank hooked up, how to fill the potable water supply, and how the toilet worked. Heck, there was even satellite internet built into the thing. To make it more spacious, there was an awning that rolled out from the side of the van that had mesh sides, like a big tent. He wished me happy camper vanning, and told me not to break it.

I was sent on my way by my uncle and mom, I swear I saw him cringe as I drove off in one of his precious vintage vehicles. My destination was the home of my cousin’s father-in-law, where I was to be given a, hopefully not crash, crash-course, in operating the kind of truck I was to be driving all summer. It was only a short drive, and I made it without making too much of a fool of myself in the unfamiliar camper van. I knew I had found the right place by the amount of construction equipment parked in a field behind a massive house. As I pulled in, a man walked out of the house and asked how I liked the van.

“Like a dorm room on wheels,” I said. “Only cleaner.” He laughed and extended a hand. We shook.

“Ready to learn to drive a dump truck?”

“Guess I’d better be.” I reiterated that my experience level was zero, and gave him the chance to back out, stating that if he had more experienced candidates for the job he should hire them instead of me, no hard feelings. He was having none of it. We walked out into the field of equipment and stopped in front of an articulated dump truck. A massive yellow vehicle with six wheels, each one taller than I was. I hadn’t been expecting an off-road juggernaut like this.

“Climb on up,” he said. I did. He followed. “Assuming this old beast will start,” he sat down in the driver’s seat, “this will be a good truck to learn on. Not too big, only 25-ton capacity. Up on the job you’ll be driving one about twice as big.” Before I could protest the engine roared to life and he shouted at me to hang on. The truck lurched forward, faltered, recovered with a cloud of black diesel exhaust, then took off, making a staggeringly sharp left hand turn before bounding off between the rows of parked equipment. It was obvious he was having a good time tearing around the field in the truck. Honestly, it was fun to ride on. If I wasn’t so nervous about screwing up massively, I would have been enjoying myself.

Eventually it was my turn to take the controls. Slowly, tentatively, I began to maneuver the massive machine through the rows of parked equipment. After a while I was backing it around the other machines, and when he was satisfied that I had the basics down, he flipped on the radio and jumped off the truck. He found a loader and his voice cracked over the radio to follow him. We raced across a field to a sandy cliff where he loaded the truck, told me to drive around, and then come back and dump the load. I did. Then I did it again, but this time in reverse the entire way. Then I was told to unload while parked on a slope. I started to, and then stopped when it felt like the truck was going to tip over. Apparently, that’s what I was supposed to do. Lesson over, we parked the equipment. I was given some words of encouragement, and then told where to be first thing Monday morning.

The next day was spent familiarizing myself with the camper van. It had driven home fine so I felt comfortable with it in that respect, but I had no idea what it was going to be like to live in. Parked in my parent’s driveway I set it up as if at a camp site. I extended the four leveling jacks that stabilized the van and then opened up the awning that was tucked neatly above the sliding side door. Legs fold down from the corners of it, and mesh sides could be zipped down to create a room off the side of the van.

From this, for lack of a better word, porch, I found myself looking into the living area of the van through the open side door. To the right were the two front seats, the drivers was fixed in place but the passenger seat could swivel around 180 degrees and be used by those in the back. Between the two seats on the floor was a built-in lock box that I could store valuables in, and more conveniently, use as a small table.

Behind the driver’s seat was the kitchen. Crammed into the impossibly small space was a refrigerator, microwave, toaster oven, a two-burner stove, and a sink with hot and cold running water. Add in the bit of counter top and a couple of small storage drawers and it was an amazingly efficient use of space. Above this were large windows that slid open. I had never driven another vehicle that came equipped with bug screens.

To the left of my vantage point was what looked like a couch. It was one, but was also a toilet and a bed, though hopefully not at the same time. The couch back could fold down into the space between the couch seat and padded cover over the engine in the back to make a full-sized bed. The seat cushion closest to the door disguised a toilet under it. Apparently, it was quite an ingenious contraption. One sat and used the toilet as normal, the difference being your waste fell into a chemical lined bag which quickly absorbed all the moisture turning it into a semi-dry crumbly mass. Flushing, resulted in the bag being sealed shut thus eliminating the chance for odor to escape and linger in the small space. The bag was then compressed into a detachable container for later disposal in the trash. A new bag was then automatically positioned for the next use. I wasn’t sure how I felt about living and sleeping above my stored, desiccated, excrement, but figured I’d be finding out soon enough. Below the remaining portion of the couch was storage, storage, and more storage. Well, maybe not quite that much.

As the van was a high-top conversion there was enough room to fully stand up between the couch and the front seats. Up top, above and to the rear of the couch, there was a platform that was actually another bed. This was normally slid shut, but could open up for sleeping. The cushion on it was actually a thin mattress folded in half. Up top, there were also four large sliding windows which let in a lot of light and made the small space feel roomy and airy, not nearly so claustrophobic as it probably would without them.

Finally, in the back, the tailgate door swung up to reveal a large open area. This seemed like a lot of wasted space until I remembered that the van’s engine is back there and the couch folds down into the space to make up the bed. On the tailgate door itself was mounted another awning, an opaque one this time, that could be lowered to create a private shower. The shower head and controls were also mounted on the tailgate door, and plumbed into the vans water supply. I set it up and turned it on. Well, it would do I guess. It was a tidy little set up that I was sure I would be intimately familiar with after a few days of use, and screaming sick of after a week. Oh well, I had no other option.

I also didn’t have anything I would need to live in the van. It needed complete fitting out. It took about fifteen minutes to convert the van back to road mode and then I set off to acquire provisions. Figuring that what I was really going to be doing all summer was camping, all be it avant garde camping, I headed to the nearest sporting goods store. There I bought lightweight nesting pots and pans, enameled cups and plates, and for some reason titanium knives, forks, and spoons. Folding camp chairs were acquired for my porch. And finally biodegradable soap and toilet paper so I wouldn’t, I don’t know, harm the environment of the chemical filled toilet bags? My next stop was a local big box farm supply store where I correctly assumed I could kit myself out with steel toed boots, high visibility shirts, jeans with reenforced knees, leather gloves, and even a hard hat. I was at least going to look the part of a construction worker even though I wouldn’t have a clue what I was doing. Last stop was a grocery store where I bought all the things a college student thinks are food, that aren’t really, to fill my kitchen.

Now as prepared as I felt I was going to be, the next morning I set off on the drive north to the port city that anchored one end of the rail line. As I didn’t actually need to report to work until the next morning, I took some time to explore the city, eat good, and purchase a very important item that I hadn’t been able to find back in my hometown. An item that I figured would be critical for my auto-nomadic existence. I then scouted out where I needed to go the next morning, before parking up at a public beach parking lot that was a well-known, according to the internet, van-life stopover point.

I didn’t bother to set up the awnings or outriggers that night, nor did I cook in the van. I thought about using the van toilet, but opted for the ones in the park. I felt a little uneasy with the number of hippy van-life-types hanging around the bathrooms after dark, in a city I wasn’t very familiar with, so I just stayed in the van after that brief excursion. Of the things I did use in the van that first night, all seemed to work very well. Eventually, I was catching myself falling asleep, and so I retrieved the pillows and blankets from storage, dropped the back of the couch down and spread the blankets out to form my bed. I stripped down to my boxers, and turned out the lights.

Though tired, my mind was full of nervous anticipation of the next day. Combined with the parking lot full of other weirdos living in vans making noise, I couldn’t fall asleep. I tried to listen to the waves breaking on the beach the other side of the sand dune that separated the parking lot from the shore, but kept being distracted by cars. Eventually, out of other options, I retrieved my important purchase from that afternoon.

The silicon sheath was about the size of an energy drink can, translucent, smooth on the outside but full of nubs and ridges on the inside. I had examined it extensively earlier in the day, but hadn’t dared use it in the busy parking lot. But now, in the middle of the night… I retrieved a small bottle of lube, and in the faint glow through the windows, squirted a generous amount into the orifice and then rolled it around to spread the slippery substance about the textured walls. My cock was straining in my shorts, I had never used any kind of masturbation device before, just my hands, and I was tremendously excited. This was going to be as close to fucking a vagina as I had ever come.

I removed my underpants and scrunched a bed sheet into a ball and nestled the sleeve into it. I positioned myself appropriately and rubbed the head of my cock over the slippery orifice, covering it with lubricant. I pushed myself in. I hadn’t thought a sex toy could cause my penis to be more stimulated than the one brief blow job I had thus far experienced, but I was wrong. My ex-partner, she, I, both of us, were inexperienced and fumbling, whereas this thing, this thing was engineered to get me off. I started to thrust as I never had before. It was instinctual. Primal. I grabbed another blanket to better simulate a woman’s body next to mine and humped away without abandon. In the pale moonlight I could look down and see my shaft sliding in and out of the silicone sheath. In my mind it was warm pussy lips caressing my cock as I plunged in and out of a tight, wet, vagina. She, whoever she was, was moaning for more of my dick, to fuck her faster, harder, and then was begging for me to cum deep inside of her. That did it. My hips thrust forward as I pulled back on the mound of blankets cradling the masturbation sleeve, burying my cock hard and deep into the fake vagina as I came. Came as hard as I ever had.

Though already lying down, I collapsed, spent, into the bed. From out in the parking lot a shouted ‘woo-hoo’ pierced the quiet night air, followed by a brief round of applause. I suddenly lay very, very, still. From now on I was always putting the outriggers down to stabilize the van when parked for the night. I pulled my cock from the toy, my penis shone wet with cum and lube in the moonlight. I went and christened the van toilet by dripping my semen out of the silicon sheath into it, before rinsing the toy in the sink and putting it away to dry. It had been so mind blowingly good. If I could do that a couple times a day all summer long, it would be a good summer.

In the morning I was tempted to take the toy out again, but as it was the first day of the new job I decided to skip my customary morning wank in order to be on time. Dressed in my swanky new construction worker wear, I reconfigured the van from bedroom to living room and said so long to the beach parking lot and my inadvertent audience of the night before. I arrived at the staging area at this, the western end, of the railway right-of-way. I was directed to an out of the way area along with the other new employees to await somebody important to take us under their supervision. It was to be a day of orientation, training, and testing.

By that evening I was familiar with all the safety rules of the job site, and had passed a test to prove it. I had put out a pan fire with a fire extinguisher. I could properly use a grease gun on equipment. I knew the protocol for using the radios without causing disruption. And I was better informed about the project itself, the scope of the work, all that needed to be done, and what progress actually had been made. Basically, I had a much better idea of how this summer job of mine was going to play out.

I also had learned more about what my van life was going to be like. The company had rented out big blocks of state park camp grounds, farm fields, even the parking lot of a dead old store, to provide space for all the itinerant workers to set up camp as the work slowly moved west to east. There were staging areas for all the equipment and materials that would also migrate down the line with the work, and busses would shuttle us employees from camp to these points at the start and end of the work day.

The work day over, I drove off towards the first camp, in this case a state park 14 miles to the east. As it was still too early in the year for the park to be full of tourists, two entire campgrounds had been set aside specifically for us workers. I showed my work badge at the entrance gate and was assigned a specific camp site. As I drove to my assigned spot, I couldn’t help but feel out of place. The other employees all seemed to have big RVs that looked like busses, or huge campers towed behind massive pick-up trucks. Then there were the old school busses or package delivery vehicles that had been converted into campers. There were sides that extended out, big awning tents that covered whole outdoor rooms, ATVs and golf carts galore. Clearly entire families sometimes traveled from job to job. I, it appeared, was the only one who was going to be living in a van.

Though, as the van was small, I had been assigned an out of the way spot on the edge of the campground where the road twisted and turned through the massive trees, overlooking the rugged river that was the reason this state park existed. The giant land whales of my coworkers literally didn’t fit down the road. I was alone, secluded, nice. As I wouldn’t need to move the van for a week I set it up properly. Outriggers down, awnings open. It had been a long day and I was feeling lazy, which meant the time had finally come. Yes. This summer would go down in history as the summer I pooped in a van. Even with the privacy screens pulled down over the windows it was still awkward. I was very much aware that I was sitting in the back of a van, pants around my ankles, on a toilet. But as advertised, it didn’t stink afterword.

That job done, and as the windows were still blocked out, it was time for the toy to make another appearance. I sat on the couch this time and pumped the sheath up and down my cock as if I was jerking off with my hand. It was good, though not as exciting as the night before had been. Using it with my hand still felt like masturbation, last night in the dark I had lost myself in fantasy. Balls now empty, I tried out the shower while there was still some daylight left. It was the most nerve-wracking part of van-life so far. I was basically naked outside in a small floorless tent that I felt at any second would blow open in a breeze and expose my nudity to the world. Dinner from my mini-kitchen followed before I passed the time reading the manual for the truck I would be driving until it was time for bed. Of course, the toy came out again and I took it as I had the previous night. Spent, I dozed off still inside of it. Awaking a short time later in the same position, I started to hump it once more, my erection growing and sliding in the tight confines, slick with lubricant and my own semen from before. There was no audience approval when I contributed a second portion of my seed into the silicone cunt.

I caught the bus to the staging area the next morning no problem and was assigned my truck. I checked it out, consulting the manual often. I was nervous as hell as I started it up. I couldn’t believe that they were letting me drive this truck, which weighed 30 tons empty, could haul 50 tons of cargo, and cost several hundred thousand dollars, by myself. Un, as it were, supervised. I checked in on the radio and was dispatched to pick up a load of rail ties to take to the grinder. As the project was behind schedule the grinder was located back here in the first staging area. I put the truck into drive and joined the parade of massive equipment working its way along the narrow right-of-way.

Varying in width from between 50 to 200 feet, the right-of-way of the railroad was a tight fit for the massive equipment that was being used to rehabilitate it at a designed pace of one mile a day. After surveyors marked the boundaries, a fleet of mulchers would move in and grind up the brush and debris that was usually overgrowing everything. Larger trees were left standing as they had value, so the next step was for them to be logged off and hauled away. Then, if any railway track was still in place, the rail was ripped out and hauled off for scrap. The old wood crossties were then pulled up and taken to a grinder where they were bashed into woodchips. The metal spikes and plates from the ties were separated magnetically and scrapped, while the woodchips were sold as fuel to a powerplant that burned biomass. Then a fleet of excavators, bulldozers, and loaders moved in and scooped up what was left of the old railway, removing whatever was needed to transform the old line to the rough grade for the new. This material was all hauled back to a mobile aggregate processing plant that resulted in huge piles of topsoil, sand, gravel, and railway ballast. Ditches were dug, culverts installed, and then material started to go back out to the right-of-way. The sand and gravel was mixed into a base material that was spread out, built up, and compacted to form a stable foundation for the future track. It was graded to the correct angles before an initial layer of railway ballast was spread along the track’s eventual alignment. Finally, the topsoil was spread back out over the disturbed ground wherever there wouldn’t be any railway track. The actual construction of the track would take place later, by another contractor, but they couldn’t do anything without our rebuilt right-of-way.

I thought of all this as I nervously pointed the front of my machine down the narrow path and drove into the woods. The lingering dust from trucks in front of me reduced visibility and I slowed down. Before long, another truck was looming large in my rear-view mirrors, so I sped up. My first real test came as I reached a wide area where the trucks were turning to back into the work areas empty, allowing them to drive out forward when loaded. I managed to keep more or less in line as I backed up for over a mile, but no doubt was making a complete ass of the job in the eyes of the veteran operators.

After what seemed a tremendously long time, I came to the spot where the excavators were digging out the ballast and rock. Trucks were pulling over to load, but I needed to get past. I wasn’t sure what to do until I saw another truck sneak past the others. I just followed and hoped I wasn’t screwing up. The going became much rougher and the truck rocked, and shook, making it difficult to use the mirrors. The rear-view camera was incredibly useful, but only gave a limited view of what was ahead, well, behind. My destination came into view and I pulled aside and waited my turn to be loaded. I sat, and sat, and sat. I didn’t know what the holdup was, but I was beginning to understand why the project was already behind schedule less than two weeks in. My turn came to be loaded and I was distracted by the odd sensation of tons of material being dropped into the truck. Eventually, I realized that I had missed the signal from the loader telling me I was full. Now its operator was waving at me frantically to move out of the way.

Feeling a fool, I drove off cautiously, getting the feel of the weight now in the truck. I called on the radio that I was inbound to the grinder, and made my way towards the staging yard. It was much easier driving forward the entire trip. Once at the wood grinder, I dumped the load where I was told. Other machines moved in and started feeding the old ties into the hammer mill immediately. They had no stockpile to work off of. I looked at my watch, it had taken an hour and forty-five minutes to make the round trip. Even though it felt an eternity, it was too slow. I felt bad for my cousin’s father-in-law. I had a feeling he was going to be losing a lot of money on this job.

I was dispatched to haul more ties for the remainder of the day, that is until just before quitting time when I was sent for a load of base material to haul back out to the right-of-way. I hadn’t yet been to the aggregate processing plant, so I just followed the line of trucks in and waited. When I neared the crushing and screening equipment, the radio came to life with a woman’s voice.

“ELM-608 (my truck number), Agg-Plant. Why are you empty? What are you doing here? Over.”

“Agg-Plant, ELM-608. I was sent for a load of material for the road base. Over.”

“ELM-608, Agg-Plant. You’re in the wrong place. You need to be the other side of the stockpiles, should have used the next turn off. But, as you’re stuck in that line for a while now, call in for another assignment. Agg-Plant Out.”

I sat in my cab embarrassed, stuck in the line of trucks, hemmed in by equipment on one side and piles of aggregate on the other. I had to wait it out and just go with the flow. As my truck slowly crept past the operating cab of the equipment, a woman emerged and looked at my truck. She just shook her head and smiled in disbelief before going about other business. Wow, what a smile, I couldn’t stop looking at her. Then it hit me, she was a little person. I couldn’t believe it. Don’t get me wrong, I consider myself pretty progressively minded, but I just couldn’t understand how she could operate this huge piece of equipment. Oh sure, the controls in the cab wouldn’t be a problem, but here she was, lugging a grease gun and a wrench that was probably 2/3rds her size up a catwalk of a conveyor belt. I was transfixed watching her as I waited for the trucks in front of me to move on. It was rude of me, and I chastised myself for my behavior, and then kept on watching her anyway. Eventually I was clear of the agg-plant and was told to go park my truck, thus ending my first day on the job.

That evening as I sat in my porch listening to the river flow behind my camp site, I spotted her walking along the path that followed the river. I don’t know why, because it’s not like me, but I quickly locked up the van and followed her. She was leaning against a railing overlooking a series of cascading falls as I rounded a bend in the path and spotted her. I knew she had seen me approaching, and so I walked into the overlook casually, having no idea what I was doing.

“Kind of mesmerizing isn’t it Agg-Plant?” She turned and looked up at me.

“Which one are you?”

“ELM-608”

“Oh. The lost road base.”

“Sorry. First day on the job. I didn’t realize, well, obviously. I was just trying to not mess up to bad.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you hadn’t been the odd ball coming in there empty, I wouldn’t have taken any notice of you.” She smiled again.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to do a better job being anonymous in the future.” She laughed.

“Good luck. I’ve never had the knack.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I can imagine,” I said, and then instantly regretted my words. Quickly I changed the subject. “You know people actually kayak this river.” I was looking hard at the rapids, the sky, anything but the little person standing next to me who, in my own mind at least, I had just insulted. “I used to work with a guy who came up here with a brand-new kayak and bashed it to pieces the first time through here. Over a thousand bucks down the drain in less than ten minutes of use. He was still mad about it when he told me the story years later.” Ouch. Whatever I was doing, it was pathetic. I wanted to be anyplace else. Why had I come down here after her.

“Hard pass,” she said.

“Likewise. I’d watch it flow all day, maybe splash my feet in it, but boat down this, no thanks.” Awkward silence. The sun was getting low. “Well, I should be on my way. Good night Agg-Plant.”

“Have a good evening, ELM-608.”

I walked back the way I had come from instead of continuing along the trail. I felt embarrassed and stupid. Why had I followed her down there? She probably already thought I was some kind of unskilled idiot, but at least I was just a schmuck in a truck. Now, I’m a human weirdo too. I was mumbling insults to myself the few minutes it took to get back to the van. I unlocked it and slid the door open and was fumbling around with the folding chairs when she spoke.

“You live in that?” I turned around to see Agg-Plant standing in the road.

“Uh, yeah.”

“How do you have any room in there for… anything?”

“It’s all right. I’m just borrowing it for the summer. Want a look?” Oh crap, where is the masturbation sleeve? I looked around quickly, everything was in order, no embarrassing sex toy in sight.

“Sure” she said hesitantly, and walked into the porch.

“Go on, have a poke around.” Please don’t find the fake pussy I fuck at night alone like a looser my mind screamed at her. She leaned into the van and looked. “The couch folds down into a full-size bed” I told her. “The passenger seat swivels around as you can see. The kitchen, though I’ve only used it a couple times seems pretty efficient, not that I’ve tried cooking anything to complicated yet. There’s another bed up top. Even has satellite internet.”

“No bathroom,” she said turning around and sitting on the van floor, legs dangling out into the porch.

“If you open the tailgate there is a shower that will leave you wanting a proper shower. There is also a toilet, but I don’t want to tell you where it is.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re sitting right next to it.” She looked to her right and slowly leaned away to her left.

“I never would have guessed.” She got up and walked to the entrance of the porch. “Well if you ever need a real shower ELM-608…”

“Sean. I’m Sean. Sean Wolfram.”

“Well Sean Wolfram, if you ever need a real shower someday you can maybe come find my place.” She started to walk away.

“Thanks. And will I just need to ask around where ‘Agg-Plant’ lives or do you have a name too?”

“Heather Grey.” She waved and turned around and walked away.

The next day work was a bit better than the day before. The morning was spent hauling more rail ties to the grinder, but the afternoon was rock and dirt to the aggregate plant, though I never spotted Heather. I was kind of disappointed. The remainder of the week went much that same way. We worked, more or less, all the hours of daylight Monday through Friday. If we were behind schedule, as we were, we also worked until 1 p.m. Saturday. Sunday we had off. However, if we wanted, we could volunteer to work Saturday afternoons. As I would rather sit in the truck cab and make money than sit in the van and fidget in boredom, I decided to work extra on Saturday. With a reduced workforce, and truck traffic down, the focus of the afternoons work was getting base material on the right-of-way, and so I was in and out of the agg-plant all afternoon. On one of my trips, I finally spotted Heather again. I thought about her every time I came there, but we never had a reason to talk on the radio. I was just departing with my fourth load of base material when the radio came to life.

“ELM-608, Agg-Plant. Over.”

“Agg-Plant, ELM-608. What can I do for you? Over.”

“ELM-608, could you come on over to this side on your next trip and come up to the cab. I’ve got a job for you. Over.”

“Roger Agg-Plant. ELM-608 out.” What was this about? Half an hour later I pulled up on the receiving side of the agg-plant, shut down my truck, dawned my high visibility vest, hardhat, leather gloves, ear protection, and safety glasses, and made my way to the first machine in the line of crushers, screens, and conveyor belts that made up this mobile aggregate processing facility. I saw Heather looking down at me from the cab as I approached. I climbed up onto the machine and was immediately assaulted by the vibration and noise. I reached the cab, knocked, and let myself in. The vibration stopped immediately, and as the door shut, it became very quiet. I removed my ear plugs. “Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” she said. Silence.

“What can I do for you?”

“So…,” it was long and drawn out, “The person I got a ride out here with this morning didn’t work this afternoon, so my ride is gone. I was wondering if I could catch a lift back to the bus with you?”

“Oh yeah, of course. No worries. Whew.”

“Whew?”

“Oh, I thought I had screwed up again somehow.”

“You’re very nervous aren’t you. You should relax more.”

“No, it’s just, this is all new to me and I’d rather not destroy a half-million-dollar truck, or kill somebody in an accident that’s entirely my fault. You know, avoid screwing up like that.”

“Well, I suppose there is something to proceeding with caution. On the other hand sometimes you just need to relax and let go.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “Anyway, do I have time for another load?” We both looked at our watches.

“I suppose so. But don’t leave me hanging here.”

“One more, and then I’ll be back. You can trust me.” I waved and went outside where I was once again assaulted by the noise and vibration of the machinery.

Half an hour later I was back. Everything was shut down. The loaders that shifted the piles around were all parked in a neat row for maintenance to work on the next day. The dust was gone. It was strangely quiet. I spotted Heather with her grease gun way up a conveyor belt, she must have been a hundred feet in the air. I stayed put on the ground until she came back down.

“Everything all right,” I asked nodding towards the top of the stacking conveyor. We walked towards my truck.

“Nope. That stacker is actually undersized for the amount of material we’re moving through it and I’m worried were putting too much strain on the drive mechanism up top. Maintenance keeps telling me it’s fine but,” she held up a piece of paper, “I’ve traced out the final drive sprocket every other day and can watch the sprocket teeth getting worn away. Pretty soon the drive chain is going to start slipping and we’ll lose production.”

“Well, that’s no good, with the project already behind schedule.”

“Yeah. And we’ve hardly started to put this plant through its paces yet.”

“Have you told anybody about this besides maintenance?”

“The supervisor knows, but I get the feeling he doesn’t want to rock the boat. It’s better to break down and fix things in his eyes, than do anything proactive and spend money on something that’s still technically working.”

“That’s too bad. Anything I can do to help?”

She snorted a laugh. “Not unless you know the owner of the company.”

“Yeah,” I laughed. “Wouldn’t that be convenient.”

We climbed into the truck. The first step up seemed a little high for her, but just as I was going to offer to assist, she made it up. I entered the cab and dropped the rumble seat for her. She came in and shut the door. I started the truck and told her to buckle up as the ten-minute ride would be good and bouncy. It was. Unfortunately, it was also mainly silent. I stopped near the bus stop to let her out before going to park the truck. She opened the door and turned to me.

“How’s life in the van?”

“Uh, it’s fine.”

“How’s the shower working out.” I was all of a sudden self-conscious.

“I’ve had better,” I admitted. She nodded in agreement with my statement a little too vigorously.

“I’ll show you where I’m parked after we get off the bus. But…” She paused.

“Go on and say it.” I had a pretty good idea what was coming.

“Please don’t sit next to me on the bus. You kind of stink.” I laughed and she climbed off the truck.

Once she was clear, I drove off and parked in the line of other articulated dump trucks before walking back to the bus stop just in time to catch it. I did not, though I was tempted, sit near Heather. Back at the state park campground I walked with her, trying to stay downwind. We chatted about nothing until arriving at a land whale. It was a bus, the kind of thing musicians in famous rock bands probably had on tour when they weren’t in their private jets. I just stopped and gawked at it.

“How does someone even afford a thing like this” I blurted out without thinking?

“In my case, I divorced my deadbeat ex-husband.”

“Oh, sorry,” I said, meaning it more for the question I had asked.

“Don’t be. I’m not. Only down side is he got the kids. He made all the money, had better lawyers than I did. They’re old enough now that they don’t really want to give up their time with friends and video games to come and slum it with Mom in an RV. That was the idea, travel, see the country. Did for a while, but got bored, so I started working along the way. That’s how I fell into this racket.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. “Well, your ex sounds like a jerk.”

“You’re a smart boy aren’t you ‘Stinky’.” She laughed.

“There’s a nickname I don’t need, ‘Crusher’.”

“Oh no no no. Do not call me that over the radio.”

“Why not. I like it. It’s got a ring to it. I’m sure everybody will be calling you ‘Crusher’ within a few days of hearing it.”

“Exactly. Now, if you keep this ‘Crusher’ business to yourself, we’ll see about you not ending up as ‘Stinky’. Go home and give me twenty minutes, then come on back and the shower is all yours.”

“Sounds good.” I walked back to my van, peeled the boots off my feet, dislodged my safety gear, and grabbed a change of clothes, towel, etc., for the shower. I killed a few minutes before walking back over to Heather’s giant RV. I knocked on the door and was dumbstruck when she opened it, she was wrapped in a towel, with another curled around her hair.

“All yours,” she said, smiling as she backed up the stairs to the interior. I followed and was blown away by the scale of the inside. It was huge, absolutely staggering when compared to my van. “This way.”

“Holy crap, this is amazing.”

“Well, it’s pretty much home year around so…”

“Yeah, I guess.” I followed her into a corridor and she pointed to the bathroom. I stepped in.

“You have a laundry too? Cool.” This struck me as ‘cool’ because I was planning on being stuck in a laundromat the next day and wasn’t looking forward to the tedium.

“Yep. All the comforts of home but on wheels. There’s lots of water so don’t worry about emptying the tank. You won’t. Take your time. Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Oh, is there anything special I need to do to use this or is it same as any other shower? I’ve never used an RVs before.”

“Same as any.” She smiled and shut the door.

I locked it and then examined the bathroom. The shower did indeed look like any other. The toilet had water in it! Wow. I laid my clean stuff out and started to undress, I was slightly self-conscious. I mean, I really didn’t know Heather at all, and here I was stripping in her bathroom. For all I knew she was about to drive off with me in here and abduct me. I was just stepping into the shower when my eye caught sight of something in her dryer. Panties. I stepped back out and like a pervert peered in through the window of the machine. Oh shit, a bra as well. I felt my cock starting to get hard as I imagined Heather wearing nothing other than the lacy white undergarments, then I imagined them coming off of her. Damnit Sean, get into the shower and don’t be a pathetic looser who gets hard over a bra that nobody is in. I turned on the water. After a week of the vans shower it was glorious. I was still hard, and as I washed, my hand kept coming back to stroke my cock a little too frequently. So much for feeling self-conscious. Though in the end I was able to resist ejaculating in Heathers shower. I dried off, dressed, bundled up my dirty things, and opened the door.

Heather was sitting on a chair reading a book. She was dressed, and unfortunately for me, in more than just a bra and panties. She looked up.

“How was it?”

“Really really nice.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She got up and came over to me and sniffed. “Very well, nickname denied. Sean-608 it is.”

I laughed. “Sure. I can live with ‘Sean-608’.” I looked around the RV again still not quite believing it. “Is, uh, there anything I can do to repay you for the hospitality?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No. But I’d like to. I’d invite you for dinner but with that kitchen,” I just happened to be looking in its direction, “I’d guess your usual menu isn’t things reheated out of packets or cooked on a stick over a campfire.”

“Is that yours?”

“It has been this last week.” The look on her face was one of pity.

“Well, how about this. You said your van has satellite internet?”

“Yeah.”

“This doesn’t, so I have to use my cell, and reception here sucks. So, how about a little later I stop by and you share your wi-fi password with me?”

“Done.” She led me back to the front and opened the door. As I passed by she once again obviously sniffed me.

“Just checking,” she said and laughed. Damn, what a smile.

Back at my van I set about straightening it up, making it all neat and tidy for Heathers visit. Not wanting to risk an embarrassing exchange I stashed my toy in the lock box and locked it shut. As I had the next day off, I built a fire in the campsites fire pit and charred myself a hotdog for dinner. I had just finished cleaning up when I saw Heather walking down the road towards my campsite. I quickly brushed my teeth and gave myself a sniff. A bit smokey, but not stinky.

The fire was still crackling nicely as she arrived. The slim column of smoke rose vertically into the towering pines, illuminated in the yellow light of the descending sun. The white noise of the rapids nearby was soothing. She carried a tablet, and an e-reader.

“The wi-fi will reach 200 feet in any direction,” I said. “So, sit by the fire, on the porch, in the van, wherever you’d like.”

“I think by the fire would be nice tonight.”

“Absolutely.” I picked up the chairs from the porch and moved them over by the fire and motioned for her to have a seat. When she was ready, I told her the wi-fi password, and she set about doing whatever it was she wanted to do online. I kind of wanted to talk, to get to know her better, but I also wanted to respect her privacy. I sat in the other camp chair and left her alone. It was a nice evening and I read a book to pass some time. Eventually, I needed to add more wood to the fire, and then got distracted poking around the embers with a stick. When I snapped out of it, Heather was watching me.

“Everything okay,” I asked?

“Yeah. I was just… You were very focused on that fire.”

“Was I?”

“Oh yeah. I’m going to have to watch you or you’ll burn this whole place down.”

I looked around at the immediate surroundings. “I doubt that. The trees are too tall, I don’t think I could get a fire hot enough to set them alight.”

“Well, maybe you can’t get the ‘trees’ that hot.” If that was a come on, it went right over my inexperienced head.

We talked for a while and decided that as I had fast internet, we would watch a movie. ‘Netflix and chill’. Something she couldn’t really do in her RV. I had a newer tablet with a larger screen and so she gave me her streaming password. We found a mutually agreeable film, and, after spreading out the fire to burn itself out, we headed into the van and were just about to start the movie when she asked if I had any snacks. I was a college student, all I had was snacks. Then she asked if I had anything to drink.

“Water or Coke,” I replied.

“No, I meant alcohol.”

“Oh, uh, no. I’m only 19.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can’t buy it.”

“When has that ever stop anybody.”

“True enough. But, no, I don’t have any.” She looked at me quizzically.

“So…, have you ever been drunk?” I shook my head in the negative. “Really?”

“Never.”

“You’re going into your second year of college and you’ve never been drunk? How is that possible?”

“It just, is, I guess.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Next thing you’ll be telling me you’re a virgin too.” I must have unconsciously stiffened up because before I could say anything she put one hand on my arm and the other over her mouth. “Oh god I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by that. I’d just assumed a guy as handsome as you… Look, I’m 36 and divorced, sometimes I forget what it was like to be… It just seems like a long time ago sometimes. Listen, just don’t start the movie without me. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’ll be here. Don’t worry.” She jumped out the van and headed off towards her campsite. “I’ll be here,” I mumbled to myself. “A big old looser all alone.”

With Heather gone, I took the opportunity to change into a pair of knit shorts instead of the jeans I had been wearing. I lost the socks and shoes and pulled on a pair of sandals, then headed out to poke the dying fire with a stick. Heather was walking back carrying a bag over her shoulder. A shoulder that was much more exposed than when she had left. Some kind of spaghetti-strapped top had replaced her t-shirt, and her jeans were replaced by a pair of shorts not all that unlike mine, other than that hers left very little of her legs to the imagination, whereas mine went down to my knees.

“I see you’ve changed. Very nice.”

“So have you,” she said.

“Well, I figured if we’re going to be hanging out watching movies, might as well be comfortable.”

“Exactly. Look, I uh, brought some stuff over.” She pulled a bottle of something from her bag. When she put it back in it clanked against another. “You don’t have to try any if you don’t want to. But if you want, I’ll show you how it’s done.” She winked at me. “What do you say?”

“I say, get in the van, we’re wasting darkness.” She smiled and climbed in. I zipped down the screen of the porch to keep the bugs out and then followed her in. I woke up the tablet and started the movie. “Door open or closed?” I asked.

“Open for now. We can close it if it starts getting chilly or the neighbors get too loud.”

“Sounds good.” Or if WE start getting too loud. The thought flashed across my mind and my cock harden slightly, something I had been fighting since Heather returned, having not anticipated the embarrassment potential of pitching a tent while wearing these shorts. “So, what did you bring?”

She pulled several bottles of liquor, a couple cans of beer, and a few other things from her bag. “It looks like a lot, but obviously we wouldn’t drink all of this.” I picked up a bottle of rum and looked at the label. “You said you had Coke so I thought the rum could go with that. You might like that as it’s mainly something familiar too you. I have stuff to make gin and tonics, which tastes like you’re drinking a juniper tree. Then vodka and Bloody Mary mix, which is like drinking spicy tomato juice. A couple beers. Oh crap, do you have any ice?”

“I have ice.” The movie had started playing by now. “I’m game to try any of it. What would you recommend?”

“Beer before liquor, never sicker. So… I’d say, rum and Coke.”

“All right. I trust you.”

“Oh, that’s a lot of pressure on me.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a couple steps to the great outdoors if I need to vomit.” I laughed. She laughed and looked worried. “I’ll take it slow. In fact, I’ll probably hate the taste of it so much I’ll hardly drink any of it.”

“That sounds about right really. It’s an acquired taste for sure.”

“Well, what is your acquired taste in the mood for?”

“I think a gin and tonic. Get me glasses and I’ll make them up.” I pulled out my two blue enameled camp mugs. She gave me another look of pity. She picked the bottles off the floor and set them on the counter. I added a can of Coke and a tray of ice to the cluttered space and watched as Heather mixed the drinks. I took each of the bottles and smelled the contents in turn. I wasn’t sure about this as even the smell of the alcohol in the bottle made my stomach turn.

Heather handed me the blue cup of dark fizzy liquid, floating cubes of ice clanked on the metal sides of the cup. “Cheers,” she said and we knocked cups together. “I made it weak as you’re a rookie.”

“Thanks.” I tasted the rum laced Coke as she watched me.

“Well?”

“Tastes like cheap generic cola.”

“How about the burn of the alcohol?”

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“That’s good. But it’s also what can make them dangerous. You forget about the alcohol and the next thing you know your plastered and getting into trouble. But I’ll take good care of you tonight.”

“Thanks.” We sat down and restarted the movie. It had been a nice evening, but now that the sun had set it was starting to cool off. We both finished our drinks after about twenty minutes and Heather asked if I wanted another. I did.

“This one is a little stronger. More like a ‘normal’ rum and Coke,” she said handing it to me. She made herself another as well, and just as she was coming to sit down, a gust of wind blew right into the van. We both shuddered in the sudden chill.

“Ooh, Cold,” she said as she sat down on the couch next to me and leaned in.

“Want me to shut the door?”

“Not yet.” She looked at me and then pulled my arm off the back of the couch so that it came down over her shoulder and around her. I, was all of a sudden, very warm. I blamed it on the booze finally kicking in, but I knew it was from touching Heather.

The wind outside became more persistent, the constant rustling of the trees was soon the background noise to the movie I wasn’t paying any attention too. All my attention was on Heather. Every little movement she made against me, that I made against her, I was fixated on. She shivered again and I asked if she wanted me to get a blanket. She did. We got up and I retrieved a big warm one from the cabinet in the back. Wrapped over my shoulders, I spread my arms wide and sat down. She kicked off her shoes and then climbed onto the couch and sat down next to me, legs curled under her, head resting on my chest. I closed the blanket over us. We watched the film and drank. All I could focus on was the smell of her hair and the twitching in my shorts.

After a while Heather sat up and looked at me. “How you feeling?”

“Nice,” I replied. “Pretty sure I’m feeling the alcohol now.” My face felt hot even though her movement had let a slug of cold air infiltrate the warm boundary of the blanket we were huddled under. I wanted to kiss her. Could I? I could always blame it on the booze. “How are you? Can I do anything for you?”

“I am feeling very relaxed.” She stretched her arms out and pointed her face towards the ceiling, stretching. Her breasts were pushed prominently forward. Inhibitions weakened by the rum, my eyes were unashamedly drawn to them. I can only assume she noticed my gaze. She got up from the couch. We had been sitting at a slight angle and my legs were somewhat apart. She came and stood between them and leaned over and put a hand on my cheek. I could see right down her shirt. “One more. To show you what too much is like.” She took a step over to the fridge and started to concoct. I slid the van door shut.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nope. I think it’s a good idea.” She handed me the cup. I tasted it and cringed.

“Wow. That’s uh…”

“That’s uh… what you should avoid doing with any regularity. If you’re only going to have one drink, and you want to get a buzz on, this would be okay. If you’re going to have multiple drinks, this will get you into trouble fast.”

“What about tonight? This is my third.”

“Yeah, but the first one was really weak.”

“What about the second?”

“Well, that’s why I’m here. To make sure you learn to do things right.”

“Well, I’m glad I’ve got a sexy teacher. What else is on the lesson plan tonight?”

“What do you want to learn?” I leaned in and kissed her. She drew back for a second and looked at me. Then lunged in and kissed me back. “It’s about time you loosened up.” We clanked cups and took another drink. She climbed onto the couch and straddled me, we started to make out. Her hands ran through my thick hair and grabbed handfuls of it before they would find their way to my chest. My hands held her waist, occasionally making a sojourn to her back side before sneaking back to her waist, all be it under her shirt upon their return. I was too nervous to proceed further afield without some kind of permission from her.

That permission finally arrived when she reached down and started to pull my t-shirt off. I assumed fair was fair, and lifted the spaghetti-strapped top up off of her. She took one of my hands and guided it to her breast. A perfect handful, her firm nipple incredibly noticeable on my palm. We kissed more, she played with my chest hair, and then bent down and started to lick and suck on my nipples. Both of my hands were now full of her bra clad boobs, gently squeezing the lace covered mounds. I reached behind her and unhooked the bra which took her buy surprise. Her hands shot back to her tits and held the material in place over them.

“You’ve been holding out on me. You’re not as inexperienced as you let on.”

“I said nothing. You assumed I’m a virgin.”

“So you’re not?”

“Oh I am. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t fooled around with girls. I just, haven’t gone all the way.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t know. I would have, a million times over, but they never wanted too. Or, at least, didn’t want to with me.”

“Girls in your high school class?”

“Yeah.”

“Stupid bitches. Too inexperience to know a good man when they find one.”

“I guess.”

“Aw, don’t get yourself down.” She wrapped her hands around the back of my neck. Her bra fell away exposing her breasts. My eyes were immediately drawn to her nipples. “Really.” She started to grind her crotch against me. “Don’t get yourself down.” She reached over for her drink and I did the same. We each took a swig and put the cups back down. She slid off me and stood looking at me. “Stand up.” I did so and felt the van rock slightly. I reached out and braced myself on both sides of the upper level. “Hey, you okay?” Heather reached up and cupped the sides of my face with her hands.

“Yeah. I’m good. Just a little unstable for a second. But,” I looked down into her eyes looking up at me, “I’ve never been better.” She smiled and ran her hands down my face, over my chest, and hooked the sides of my shorts and pulled them down. The erection I had at first been trying to hide out of embarrassment, then trying to ignore as we made out, now sprang free. I let out a sigh just from the relief of it being unconstrained. She grabbed hold of it and smiled a huge smile, then began to pump my shaft.

“Any of your high school girlfriends ever do this?”

“Every now and again.” My head lulled back on my shoulders as I focused on the pleasurable sensations emanating from my crotch.

“Did they ever play with these?” A second hand joined in the fun and began to fondle my balls, cupping my scrotum and then gently tugging on it. All the while her other hand kept stroking my shaft.

“They tended to get overlooked.”

“That’s too bad.” She played with them some more. “They can be a lot of fun. For instance…” She pointed my cock upwards and leaned in and kissed each of my testicles, and then licked me from the base of my balls to the tip of my cock. “I’ll assume none of those little high school girls ever did that.”

“No,” I said as the sensation of what she had just done was still rattling its way about my brain.

“This little girl will do it all night long if you want her too.”

“Oh, fuck yes!” I looked down just in time to watch her suck my cock deep into her mouth. I inhaled sharply as she began to double the amount of oral sex I had ever received. “Oh fuck, Heather you’re amazing.”

“Did those high school skanks ever do this?” she asked with a mouth full of my cock.

“Only once. And you’re… oh fuck… much, much…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I was lost in the warm suction of Heather’s mouth. I kept one hand on the van roof to steady myself, and dropped the other to her head and brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind an ear. She looked up and our eyes met as she bobbed her head on my hard dick. I had never seen anything so sexy before. I kept my hand on the side of her head for a minute, not forcing, not guiding, just along for the ride, then I gently nudged her off of me. I sat down and pulled her mouth to mine and we kissed.

Her hand reached for, and found, my cock again. I reached out and found the damp fabric of her panties. I rubbed my fingers over the lace material, feeling its texture over the two parallel lips of flesh separated by a cleft that promised access to amazing things. My hand rose and worked its way under the elastic band at the top, and then encountered a thatch of pubic hair. I grasped the curly mane and tugged at it gently. Heather, her mouth still against mine, smiled. “Are you having fun?”

“I’ve never had so much fun.”

“Just you wait.”

“I hope that’s a promise.” My grip on her bush relinquished, my hand descended further into her panties, my middle finger parting her labia, brushing over her clit, seeking out the wet opening of her vagina. She bit my lip as I explored her.

“Rub right there,” she said pushing her panties down over her hips, dropping them to the floor. I called upon my endless hours of watching pornography for what to do, but as I had never actually touched a pussy before, I was being far too rough. She winced. “Not so hard. Here. Like this.” She took my hand and guided the movement of my fingers over and around her clitoris. We started slowly but the pace increased as we went on. She began to grind her crotch against my hand faster and faster. I leaned in and whispered in her ear.

“Can I finger you? I’ve never…” Before I could finish telling her I’d never fingered a woman she had let go of my hand and was sitting down onto my lap. Her back was to me, and she spread her legs wide, knees bent, her feet outside of my legs. My cock was under her, painfully near where it was so longing to penetrate. My arms moved to her front, one going low for her patch of pubic hair, the other high for her breasts. I leaned forward and kissed her shoulder where it came together with her neck. She took the hand that had gone low and rubbed my fingers over and between her folds, guiding my eager digits to the slickest spot, the holiest of holies, and into her vagina. She inhaled deeply as my fingers entered her and I let out a long drawn out “yes” that had been pent up inside of me for far too many years. My inexperienced fingers worked a magic upon her anatomy that they hadn’t realize they possessed, as her own fingers worked their experienced selves over her clit. Heather’s breathing grew faster and shallower as the seconds turned into minutes. Her hips began to rock back and forth in rhythm with our fingers, her ass rubbing over and against my temporarily ignored, but no less aroused member.

“Just like that. Just like that,” she blurted out suddenly, then took my hand and forced it hard into her pussy while her other hand furiously worked her clit. “Sean!” She stopped breathing, momentarily froze, and inside, down deep, clamped down on my fingers like nothing I had ever imagined. She shuddered back to life and let out a sound that I can’t describe but which will stay with me in my fantasies until the end of my days. She gulped in air and shuddered again, exhaled in a grunt and collapsed into me. She pulled my hand out of her pussy, and breathed heavily.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That was amazing.” She turned her head back and looked at me.

“Mmm, you’re so cute saying things like that.”

“Well, uh, speaking of saying things. We’ve never really, you know, talked about, well, your stature.”

“Yes.” She eyed me suspiciously.

“So, if I should cross some kind of line that would perhaps be considered insulting towards little people, I want you to know, I don’t ever mean to be that way. If I should do something like that, it’s only because I didn’t realize the mistake I was making.”

“You’ve been nothing of the kind. What are you on about?”

“This.” I stood up, and as she was sitting on my lap, I scooped her up in my arms. She yelped and then laughed. I kissed her and then raised her towards the upper bunk of the van. She let out another shout and scrambled for the bed. As she got purchase on it, I caught her by a leg, flipped her onto her back, and pulled her towards the edge, spreading her legs and draping them over my shoulders, burying my face in her crotch.

Within seconds she was moaning as my tongue lashed up and down her slit giving me my first ever taste of pussy. Her hands found my ears and I was pulled into her. I breathed deep her scent, and tasted her taste. I hadn’t been sure what to expect. Some was familiar, I guess a part of all us human beings, other parts were new, some wonderful, some, to be fair, less so. All I knew was that I wanted more of her. I gripped her legs and squeezed her thighs against the side of my head as my tongue explored the depth of her folds, lapped the moist offering of her hole, teased, assaulted, and sucked on the little nub of her clit.

Standing in the van, face buried in Heather’s pussy, my erection was screaming for attention. I had never felt so aroused, so hard, in all my life. I was amazed I had lasted this long. In the momentary focus on my cock, I realized that I was dripping pre-cum, literally dripping it from my dick. I was over stimulated and ready to burst.

I slid a finger into Heather and began to thrust as I had before while I licked her clit. Her hand moved down and took over the clit and so I kissed and licked her labia, her thighs, her ass. She yelped. “Oh, help me down.”

“Of course.” She sat up on the edge of the upper bunk and reached out to me. My arms intertwined with hers. “Ready?” She nodded and slid off the bunk into me. I caught her and we came to rest with my cock between her thighs, I could feel her wetness upon me. I throbbed. I set her down. She looked at me. I looked at her, lost in her eyes, in her body, in her everything. She sat down in the rear facing passenger seat and spread her legs wide, opening herself to me.

“Take me. I want you.” All I could hear was my pulse pounding in my ears.

“Don’t we need, um, protection.” My cock was screaming at me for the delay. In truth, I was nervous. I know we had been naked and fooling around, and really enjoying each other for a while, but I wasn’t sure if I would last even long enough to fully insert myself into her before I would cum. I was sure to have the most premature premature ejaculation ever.

“See this scar?” She pointed to a spot on her lower abdomen. The only light was from the still playing movie and I couldn’t actually see what she was pointing too.

“Uh, not actually.” She took my hand and I felt it.

“And this one.” She moved my hand. “And this one.” Another scar. “No more babies from me. And as for diseases, well, as this is your first time, I’m not too worried about you. And if you’re worried about me, well, let’s just say I do this way to infrequently to be worried about having something I don’t know about.”

“So, what your saying is…”

“Put it in my pussy. Take me.” I stepped over to her and positioned myself in between her spread legs. I grasped my aching erection and positioned it on her pubic hair, and then slid it down along her pussy lips. I had waited so long for this to happen. How many dreams of this moment? I teased the head of my cock between her labia and felt her warm wetness lubricate me. Felt the friction disappear as I moved over her. Then I entered her and my virginity was gone. She inhaled as I penetrated her and let out a long drawn out “yes”. I don’t know what I said or did, I was lost in the sensations I was experiencing. I leaned over her on the seat and slowly pumped my hips, sliding my penis gently in and out of her vagina. I tried not to think about it, because if I thought about it, I would cum instantly. But how could I not think about what I was feeling. I had never felt anything so awesome in my life.

I looked down at Heather. She was looking up at me. “Do you like it?” I could only nod and had to shut my eyes and try to hold out a little longer. I continued to thrust slowly until I felt a hand on my cheek. I opened my eyes and looked at her again. “Let it out, Sean” she said. “You’re not going to break me. Don’t hold back.” I grabbed her hips and started to pound my cock into her pussy. I stopped trying to do things right, and just did things. I was going as deep into her as I could, the sensations on the head of my cock, as it slid along the length of her tight cunt, were more than I had ever fantasized possible. The sound of our sex was soon accompanied by Heather’s sweet moans as I fucked her relentlessly. “Yes, yes, YES, SEAN I’M…” she screamed and came again. Her vagina bore down on my penis, finally sending me on an unreturnable trajectory. I let out a guttural grunt that had been building inside of me since puberty started, and I came, came hard, came a lot, came in what was undeniably the most memorable orgasm since my very first one. I pulled Heather hard into me in time with the pulses of my ejaculation, watched her tits bounce as I shot my load, buried to the balls, deep inside of her warm wet pussy.

As we came down from our orgasms, I looked at her in the seat before me. Her eyes were shut, her mouth was open and she was breathing heavily through it, the edges curled in a smile. I was breathing heavy also, still in position inside of her. I didn’t know what to do. I never wanted to move from her. Eventually she opened her eyes and reached up and put a hand on my chest. She started to sit up and in doing so gently pushed me back. I slipped out of her. I looked down in the dim light of the still glowing tablet, long ignored, the movie credits just finishing rolling, and saw my, no longer virgin, penis shining in the light, covered in her cum, my cum, our cum, freshly removed from Heathers intoxicating womanhood. She sat up and spread her pussy lips and we both watched as several white globs of semen slowly ran out of her. She reached down and scooped some up on a finger and brought it to her mouth. She licked it off and looked at me.

“You taste good.” I smirked a stupid crooked grin.

“Heather, I… Thank you. Thank you. It was so, just…” I dropped to my knees and kissed her. “Wow.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m glad your first time was good.”

“Not good. Need a word better than good. That’s what it was.”

“You’re such a charmer.” She took hold of my, now limp, cock and began to stroke it. “So, d’you think you’ve got any more in there for me?”

“I think you could get me to fill the bed of my truck before summers over.”

“Speaking of bed, have you noticed it’s raining?” I hadn’t, but a look at the windows of the van showed them covered in raindrops, and the soft sound of rain on the roof on the van permeated our ears as the noise of the tablet finally died away.

“Well, rain’s no good. You certainly weren’t dressed for it when you walked over. And, it goes without saying, that it would be very rude of me to send you out into it to walk back, even if I were to be a gentleman and walk you home.”

“Which of course you would be.”

“Naturally.”

“So, what’s the answer to the rain?” I stood up and unhooked the restraint that kept the couch back up. It dropped down forming the expanse of the vans bed. Heather rushed up onto it and laid down, spread eagle, and reached for me. I slowly climbed over her, I could feel my cock stirring back to life. We kissed. “Good answer.”

We made love five more times before we had to report back to work Monday morning, and then continued our romance all summer long. We both knew that come the end of August things would end, and so we made the most of it. We got to know each other intimately well, the boring and mundane, the dirty and secret. Heather expanded my boundaries further than I had ever realistically hoped for. I even pushed hers a bit, as she gave up her anal virginity to me. I was honored that she trusted me enough to be the one to do something with that she had been resisting for so long. The masturbation sleeve that had so blown my mind at the start of summer rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it was usually getting fucked by Heathers vibrator.

When the Fourth of July rolled around I was invited to a party being thrown by my cousin’s father-in-law, the one that owned the company. I invited Heather as my guest and we spent the long holiday road-tripping in the van. I hadn’t mentioned to her that I knew the owner, and when she found out, she teased me mercilessly. Saying that it all made sense to her now how I, with my lack of skills, ended up on a construction site. I had to agree. At the party I was cornered by my Uncle who demanded an update on the van. I let him inspect it, and he seemed satisfied I was taking care of it, and allowed me to keep it the remaining two months of summer.

Heather, who was of course the only little-person at the party, naturally drew a lot of attention. I got to feeling a little uncomfortable and annoyed at what I interpreted as people’s rudeness. She didn’t even seem to notice. Eventually, I had to let it go as I realized that I had been the same way, and if I hadn’t been, I would never have met her. Besides, I knew her well enough to know that it was all just background noise to her anyway. Eventually the big boss came over and asked how I was getting on. I told him I was enjoying the job and hadn’t broken his truck yet. I introduced him to Heather and she laid right into him explaining everything that was wrong with the aggregate plant. They must have had a half hour long conversation about it in the middle of the party. We didn’t know it, but she got through to the guy, because the first day back on the job he showed up with the agg-plant supervisor and went over every inch of the set up. The day ended with the supervisor reassigned and Heather promoted.

By the time I finally left at the end of August the job was not only on schedule, but slightly ahead of it. I put off leaving Heather as long as I could. We spent one last night together, and in the morning, shortly before she had to catch the bus, we made love one final time. It was my favorite position, sitting, her atop of me, face to face, lost in each other’s eyes. She rode me as we kissed, her beautiful breasts with their tasty nipples within easy reach of my mouth. My hands upon her ass, the now a familiar feeling of her pussy sheathed around my cock. Familiar, but no less exciting than our first time together. She came first, as she always did, and I came a minute later. We held on to each other though we both knew we had to let go. Eventually, we did, and got dressed. I walked with her to the bus. We held hands. We had never shown any signs of public affection around the job before. We didn’t want any hassle, but today we didn’t care. I kissed her goodbye and she got on the bus. I waved as it took off. I packed up the van, and drove home.

Two days later I was back in the dorm and a world away from the summer I had spent with Heather up in the north woods. We kept in touch, of course, and it was nice, but it was her physical touch that I was really missing. Old friends and textbooks just didn’t interest me at the moment.

Less than a month later the job up north ended, ahead of schedule, under budget. That night, via the cameras on our phones, Heather was ecstatic. Everybody was getting a big bonus, even me. I congratulated her on a job well done and told her that undoubtedly the project’s success was entirely down to her efficient running of the agg-plant. Without her, the project never would have overcome insurmountable obstacles like inept dump truck drivers. She laughed, and then shrugged her shoulders and told me I was probably more right than I knew. She had been told that since taking over the agg-plant it had been run more efficiently, and at a lower cost, than any of the pre-job estimates had predicted, and she had been offered a permanent position with the company, but, she had turned it down. I was a little surprised and asked where, in that case, she was off to next. Sweeden, she said, to the factory that was building all the crushing equipment for the two new mines. The boss had been bragging about her to a mining executive and they had hired her away. She was now the manager over all the crushing operations that would take place at the two new mines, and as they couldn’t extract the minerals they were after until the rock was crushed to the consistency of flour, it was a big job. She had already bought a house in a nearby town. Her smile was huge. So was mine.

“Congratulations. I know you’ll run that plant better than any other mine on the planet.”

“Thank you. You’re always so sweet to me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for saying what we both know is true. You’ll be more dedicated to that equipment than any other operator ever. I mean, who else uses a rock crusher as a vibrator?” Heather gasped.

“You promised you’d never tell!”

-End-