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From: "Ray" <ray1031@cac.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} {Song Fest) Hooked on a Feeling (part 1 of 4) by Ray1031 (MF, Cons, Rom)
Date: Sun, 10 Nov 2002 22:10:04 -0500
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Hooked On a Feeling by Ray1031 (MF, Cons, Rom)

This is my story ..... copyrighted and belonging to me.
Want to use it .... ask!

Check the codes before reading .... don't like them, don't read further.
Like the codes .... enjoy the story.
Ray
(My 'new' header)



Hooked on a Feeling  by Ray1031  (MF, Cons, Rom?)


"I-I-I-I'm Hooked on a feeling ..... I'm high on believing ..... that I'm in
love with you ...." I sang along with the radio as I wheeled the old
Volkswagen Transporter into the highway rest area.  I turned off the
headlights as I slowed, there was a full moon out and the area was street
lighted, so I could see and my parking lights would allow others to see me.
I didn't want to disturb anyone who might be trying to sleep. Sleep was on
my agenda as well, but first I needed the men's room. I'd been holding it
for a while, and the johns at the last fuel stop had been closed. Between
the pressure on my bladder and the fog of having been up for twenty-one
hours this stop was mandatory.

I saw her standing inside the building as I parked the old micro-bus. She
was looking up at the wall map, her back to the floor to ceiling glass front
wall, a green military-style duffle beside her on the floor. A pair of
loose, short-style coveralls over a tube top on her slim body was allowing
lots of bare leg, mid-riff and shoulders for view. I liked what I saw.

I watched her as I locked up the van, a nip to the early October air
reminding me that I needed to get through the Rockies before the first
snowfall. There was something about her arms as she stood there but, tired
as I was, I had covered half the distance to the glass doors before I
realized what was going on. Her left arm was inside of her coveralls, and
from the slight movements of her elbow, she was either rubbing or scratching
at her crotch. Rubbing I thought, though I couldn't be sure at this angle.
Her right arm was also under her coveralls, but higher and I couldn't see
that it was moving. I kept watching as I approached the door and saw a
twitch seem to start in one shoulder as her elbow movement became
momentarily more pronounced. Then I was at the door and as it opened her
hands suddenly jerked free of whatever they had been doing.

She seemed to be intently studying the map as I approached and raised her
right hand as if tracing a route with her finger. But, I had already seen
the dampness on the fingers of her left hand. As I came abreast we glanced
at one another, her eyes seemed somewhat glazed. I smiled.

"You know I could probably help you with that if you were interested," I
said, and mentally kicked myself for such a stupid line. But mother nature
reasserted my reason for stopping and I was freed from the embarrassment of
further conversation as I entered the men's room. The stalls were mostly
trashed of course, only the handicapped stall seemed clean enough for use. I
used it.


I think it was about five minutes later, the worst was passed, I had already
flushed once and the air was clearing when there came a light rapping on the
stall door. Announcing that it was in use, I was surprised when the rapping
came again and was followed by the appearance of a hand, over the top of the
door, holding a pair of light blue frilly panties that exactly matched the
polish on the nails. I remembered the young woman from the foyer then and
unlocked the door, even though that was probably a stupid thing to do. It
'was' her though and she pushed open the door and entered the stall. She was
dragging her duffel with her right hand and all of her clothes were in her
left as she seemed to pause, showing off before me. I thought she was manna
from heaven at that moment.

Tall, lithe of form with reddish blonde curly hair and widest brown eyes.
Her narrow form was high breasted with flaring hips and a lighter, finer
thatch of pubic hair than I would have anticipated. Long slimly tapered legs
ending at long toed feet with nails the same color as her hands and her
panties. The only mark I saw anywhere was an appendectomy scar. Without a
word she closed and locked the stall door and pushing her duffel against it.
Hanging her coveralls from the door mounted hook, she pushed the tube top
and panties into one of it's pockets, then looked quickly at me and the
stall itself.

Handicapped stalls are somewhat larger than the standard men's room stall
and have hand rails mounted to the walls on either side to assist those with
physical problems. The toilet seats are also somewhat higher and wider than
normal for comfort.

She sniffed the air once and made a small face but shrugged her shoulders
and smiled as she leaned close and kissed me lightly, once, closed mouth.
Nudging my right leg with her hand I shifted my position around to the left
as she placed her left foot on the seat beside my leg. Using her right hand
on the dividing wall for support, she raised her right leg and placed the
foot on the hand rail, sliding it past me as she crouched and stretched,
adjusting her position above and before me.

Reaching between her legs, I placed my left hand under her buttocks, partly
to assist in her support, but mostly so I could further guide and position
her to my liking. My right hand I placed across her upper thigh and abdomen
as my thumb found the apex of her labia and pressed, beginning a pronounced
circular movement. Her mouth opened and her eyes closed as I she made the
first sound I'd heard her utter, a low growling sound deep in her throat.

"What? No foreplay? No endearments? No candle-light dinner?" I joked.

"Shut up and eat," and she wrapped the fingers of her left hand in my short
hair, pulling my head forward for emphasis. "And I hope you prove worth the
discomfort of this position."

I looked at her treasure for the first time then. I mean really looked at it
since I'd earlier been more interested in her movements as she positioned
and supported herself within the stall, partly for her safety but mostly for
mine. Considering the offer being made, I had really given very little
thought to the comfort factors of her position and was not going to follow
that issue and have her change her mind.

I had been home to Michigan for my baby brother's wedding. I'd flown home,
and during my stay there had bought the old van I was driving. It had been
too good a deal to pass up. A little sanding at some rust, some dent repair
here and there and I had what I expected to be a lasting and reliable
vehicle. The repairs and repainting had taken longer than anticipated
though, and I now found myself with only three days to drive to the west
coast.

But the offer before me now was foremost on my mind, especially since I'd
not had sex for almost two months, I was horny enough to have fucked my
ex-girlfriend again, though the dose of the clap she'd given me was the end
of that relationship.

Her pubic hair, as I'd earlier noted, was much finer and sparser than I
would have expected in a woman in her twenties. Long fine red-gold hairs
that appeared almost groomed as they curved between her legs and over her
pubis. I found that she had parted and opened with her position and moving
my thumb aside I found myself with a fine view of her cleft. Her urethra was
the first thing I took note of, the tip of a whitish tube protruding
marginally from the surrounding flesh. Her Vagina was next, a partially
opened tunnel which seemed to curve back, away from me and up into her
recesses as it closed with depth. Then I saw her clitoris, or rather just
the barest tip of it where it was peeking from beneath the V of it's
protective hood, just below where my thumb had been playing.

I leaned forward then, opening my mouth. My right thumb returned to it's
earlier position and ministrations, my left thumb slid forwards and began
playing against the opening of her vagina, slowly sinking deeper into the
warmth of her as it became moistened with her lubricating fluids. My mouth
and tongue I used to cover my own right thumb and her upper valley as I
explored a line from her urethra to her clitoris, repeating the movements
over and over again, feeling the jolt that passed through her each time my
tongue or teeth came into contact with either of those sensitive
protrusions. Once my left thumb was fully buried within her I did not fuck
her with it, but rather moved it in circular motions within her vagina as I
sped up my oral ministrations.

She must have really been horny as it was only a matter of minutes before
she was nothing but a quivering, jerking mass of flesh trying to bury itself
deeper within my mouth. Her hand in my hair was now a fist that threatened
to bald me as she held on for dear life and balance. I didn't care, wouldn't
have cared if she had, at that moment. God, I love the taste of pussy.

I don't know how long that really lasted, I lose all sense of time during
such moments, but I am sure that long minutes passed, at the least, with us
locked in that position before she used her grip on my hair to pull me away
from her.

I had to help her down and for long seconds after she'd regained the floor
she leaned against the wall for support as her eyes cleared and her
breathing became more normal. She simply gazed at me, a rather ridiculous
looking grin on her lips as she recovered herself.

At some rime during our shenanigans, I'd finished my business and I used the
toilet paper to clean myself and then reached behind myself to flush without
rising. As I shifted, my hardened cock sprang into view from where it had
been trapped between my thighs and she was looking at it when I turned back
to face her once more.

"Fair is fair," she said with a slightly contralto voice and stepped forward
to position me to her liking. She had me slide forward on the seat and
pushed on my shoulders until my back rested against the exposed steel
plumbing of the stool. This had me as close to stretched out as I could get
under the circumstances and allowed my cock to stand more erect. It also
allowed more of it to rise above my thighs and she used a piece of toilet
paper to rub and dab at it before she straddled my thighs.

She put spit on her fingers and spread the saliva over the head of my cock
before guiding it to her entrance and slowly sliding down it's length. Once
seated, she wriggled her hips and I spread my thighs slightly, allowing a
little more inside until she was satisfied she had all she was going to get.
She stopped moving then and took her own nipples into her hands as mine were
holding the hand rails to either side, holding me in this awkward position.
She closed her eyes then and in a few moments I felt the first twinges of
movement within her vagina.

Her muscles were contracting and relaxing, a little awkwardly at first, but
quickly increasing in surety as they manipulated themselves against the
invading cock they surrounded. First came an all over pressure, a squeezing
and tightening that soon relaxed to be replaced by a more delicate
squeezing, like a ring, only at the base of my cock. this slowly moved
upwards, over most of my length, as if trying to pull me deeper within again
with a sucking, pulling motion. Over and over these movements repeated,
first the squeeze, then the pull as she remained perfectly still and milked
me where I sat.

I didn't last long, no more than a minute or two, but the eruption that
followed and the tightening of the muscles in my legs and abdomen lifted
both of us from the seat. How I managed to keep my legs bent and my feet
beneath me, how I kept my hold on the rails when my arms wanted to relax
even as my legs tightened, is a minor unknown miracle in itself.

When I was empty and my relaxing muscles once again allowed me to settle
back onto the cold plastic beneath me, she stood up and away from me. Even
as I sank back to the seat below I was withdrawing from her and she stepped
away. Gathering her clothing it was but the matter of a moment or two and
she was covered once more. Pulling her bag away from the door and opening
it, she looked out into the room beyond before turning to me once more.

"Thanks, you have no idea how much I needed that."

"Nor you I, but you are welcome." Then she was gone, dragging her duffel
behind her.


I took long minutes at the sinks, washing my hands and face, rinsing my
mouth, before standing over the hot air hand dryers. When I emerged from the
men's room, she was exiting the ladies and we smiled at one another.

"Hitchhiking?"

"Yeah, which way are you headed?"

"I'm heading west as soon as I reach Moline and Interstate Eighty."

"So am I, can I get a ride?"

"You are more than welcome, but I won't be leaving for a couple of hours.
I've been up or driving for most of a day and need to catch a nap and
recharge before I go on. There's room in the van if you want to sleep as
well."

"I'd love to, but I'm in a bit of a hurry. If I'm still here when you wake
up, I'll take you up on your offer, I can sleep while you drive."

Returning to my van I lowered the rear seats so they formed a bed and
crawled in. .From the back seat I took large Teddy Bear I'd bought
specifically for the van. He was my travel pillow and someone to talk to if
I became over-tired while driving. I was quickly out like a light.


It was almost five-thirty when a bunch of noisy travelers, parking next to
my van, woke me up. At first I wished they had parked further away, yet I
rose and moved to the driver's seat. I looked for the girl as I poured
coffee from the thermos into my travel mug, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Must have gotten a ride already, 'Damn! I liked that girl, she was kinky." I
hoped to get past Moline before the morning rush hour started and snarled
traffic.

The coffee was barely lukewarm . . . Oh well, I'd get more once I was past
town.


Song Lyrics:

Hooked on a Feeling
B.J. Thomas

Album: "The Very Best Of B J Thomas"-United Artists
-UA-LA 389-E
-peak Billboard position # 5 in 1968-69
-later charted at # 1 in 1974 by Blue Swede
(Words and Music by Mark James)

I can't stop this feelin' deep inside of me
Girl, you just don't realize what you do to me
When ya hold me in your arms so tight
You let me know everything's all right

I-I-I, I'm hooked on a feelin'
High on believin' that you're in love with me

Lips are sweet as candy, the taste stays on my mind
Girl, you keep me thirsty for another cup of wine
I got it bad for you, girl but I don't need a cure
I'll just stay addicted and hope I can endure

All the good love when we're all alone
Keep it up, girl, yeah ya turn me on

I-I-I, I'm hooked on a feelin'
High on believin' that you're in love with me

(instrumental interlude)

All the good love when we're all alone
Keep it up, girl, yeah ya turn me on

I-I-I, I'm hooked on a feelin'
I'm high on believin' that you're in love with me

(instrumental to end)


[  Return to Top 100 Hits of 1969  ]

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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