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Toward the end of my first year in college I was seeing another student pretty regularly. His name was Joe and he was a computer science major in his third year-- an upperclassman dating little old me! He was a bit geeky, and sort of looked like David Carradine in "Revenge of the Nerds" but older-- his hair was already thinning on top and he could pass for being 15 years older than his 23 years. I liked him because he wasn't very experienced and was extremely willing to learn what made me feel good rather than try to blunder about trying to find my clitoris like other guys I dated. The lessons he took best were in cunnilingus and he became proficient at it [somewhere there is a very lucky lady married to him now]. He was quite grateful for my companionship as well, and was a perfect gentleman when we went out.

We saw each other once or twice a week, but as we both had roommates we usually had sex in his car. Fortunately he had a huge old station wagon, a 1964 Ford Country Squire with fake wood paneling that had room to spare. We would find a secluded spot and climb in the back [with a couple of blankets and the seat folded down] and have plenty of space. To this day I smile when I see an old wood-paneled wagon go by.

Late one evening we were out roaming around when I said I wanted to get on the highway. As Joe nursed the car up to speed I told him that I wanted to go fast. To give him an incentive I reached over, rubbed his crotch through his jeans and said, "Get this crate up to 65 and I'll give you a hand job. Get up to 80 and I'll suck your cock." It took a ...

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