I was halfway home from Wendy's house when it started to rain. Swearing under my breath, I picked up pace. My jacket was already zipped up to my chin, and though I wore only a bra beneath it, I'd grown flushed and sweaty. If someone caught me like this...

It was stupid, taking Wendy up on that dare. We'd been hanging out in her bedroom, listening to the radio, when I asked if I could try on a blouse she'd recently bought at the mall. 

"I'll even let you borrow it, Eleanor," my friend told me in a breezy tone. "If..."

Rolling my eyes, I said, "If what?"

"If you leave your shirt here and walk all the way back home in just your bra. You can zip up your jacket, of course."

"Wendy!" I leaned to swat her thigh, but she easily dodged me. "We're nineteen years old, for God's sake. When are you going to grow up?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like someone is chickenshit." 

Being called chicken was one thing I wouldn't stand for. Wendy laughed, gleefully clapping her hands as I yanked my shirt over my head and tossed it aside.

My bra, lacy white, was aptly virginal. Unlike Wendy, I hadn't yet had sex. My hormones were insane at that point, but I wanted to wait until I fell in love.

Unfortunately, there was a small chance of that happening in my hometown. At that time in the mid-1980s, I had few opportunities to meet people outside of my immediate surroundings. I was working as a clerk at the drugstore, reading silly romance paperbacks on my lunch break and dreaming some stranger would stroll in and sweep me off my feet. 

Ignoring Wendy's catcalls, I grabbed my jacket and slipped it on. My hands were shaking a little as I pulled up the zipper. 

"I'm going home now," I said, climbing to my feet. "And I get to borrow that blouse whenever I want. Understood?"

"Absolutely!" Wendy stood as well, then gave me a hug to lift my sour mood.

"This is really stupid," I grumbled, but I grudgingly hugged her back.

Before leaving her room, I stopped in front of the full-length mirror and ran my fingers through my hair. I'd recently gotten it cut, and I still wasn't sure if I liked it or not. I thought the short layers suited my face, but I knew most guys preferred longer hair.

Luckily, Wendy's parents and brother were nowhere in sight as we headed to the front door. The early evening sky had grown ominously overcast, threatening rain.

Wendy continued her teasing after I started down the driveway, which prompted me to turn around and flip her the bird. That only made her laugh harder. 

Beneath my jacket, I felt weirdly vulnerable. I knew it was ridiculous; it wasn't like I was naked under there. The late September air was mild, holding only a hint of a chill. Still, I could feel my nipples harden beneath the thin fabric of my bra.

The first drops of rain felt like reprimands. In my jeans and sneakers, I was tempted to break into a run. Before I could, I heard a familiar engine rumbling behind me. 

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Russ's old red truck. He lived down the road from us, and I'd known him all my life. He brought the vehicle to a stop and then leaned to throw open the passenger door.

"Almost didn't recognize you at first, Eleanor!" he called. "You look so different."

I gave my hair a self-conscious pat. "Yeah, it's quite a change."

Russ smiled. "I like it. Now, hop in before you get soaked."

I immediately took him up on his offer. "Thanks so much!" I settled onto the bench seat. "I was afraid I'd get caught in the downpour."

Since it wasn't a long drive to my house, I didn't bother with the seatbelt. Instead, I leaned back, trying to ignore the fact that I had no shirt on under my jacket. Russ started down the road, and I sneaked a sideways look at him. 

In his late fifties, he was still a handsome man. His face was a little weathered, and his curls had turned mostly gray, but his body was strong. Though he worked as a carpenter, he also took care of a small farm on his property. Dad said Russ had been talking of selling the land, for he was a widower, and his two sons, both older than me, had moved away several years ago.

"So how've you been?" he asked me now. "Keeping busy at the store?"

"Busy enough." As I spoke, I realized I was sweating more. Almost immediately, I grew anxious to unzip my jacket. But of course, I couldn't.

Russ flashed me a smile before returning his attention to the road. "I've missed seeing you at church."

His remark made me feel even more sinful. "I know I should go more often."

"Oh, I'm not trying to lecture you. I remember how it was at your age." His hands, resting on the steering wheel, bore numerous callouses from his work. "You want to stay out late on Saturday nights, then sleep in on Sundays. I get it."

Maybe I could unzip my jacket just a little, I told myself. In desperation, I lowered the zipper several inches, all the while looking down to make sure I didn't reveal too much cleavage. My breasts were small, so it wasn't as if I had a lot to show.

What I didn't anticipate was the way the jacket gaped open. When I tried to pull the zipper back up, it stubbornly caught along the teeth.

My heart pounded so hard that I could feel it as a pulse beneath my flushed cheeks. Lifting my head, I looked at Russ. He quickly averted his eyes, but I knew he'd gotten a glimpse of my half-naked state beneath that jacket.

"I'm sorry!" I blurted out.

My neighbor appeared a little flustered, at a loss for words. Then he shook his head and laughed. "I won't even ask where you're coming from."

"I was with Wendy," I hurried to confess. "This was a stupid dare."

"She dared you to go topless?" 

"Yep, and I was dumb enough to do it." My fingers kept working at the zipper, and I grew aggravated enough to open the jacket almost all the way. I was hot and out of sorts, humiliated to be caught by a man my father's age. A man who was respectful and kind, and who probably thought less of me now.

"I've never done anything like this before," I said.

"Oh, there's no harm in it, Eleanor." 

By that point, we'd reached the gravel driveway leading to Russ's house, and he surprised me by pulling into it. Outside, heavy drops of rain drummed on the windshield and roof.

"Go on and fix your jacket," he told me. "I can't drop you off at your house while you're half-dressed."

I gave him a grateful smile and focused my attention on that damned zipper. No matter what I did, I couldn't raise it higher than an inch or two. 

"Wait, you'll break it." Russ parked the truck and then turned to face me. "You want me to help?"

Our eyes locked, and I almost gasped to discover that his stare was not at all fatherly. He allowed his gaze to drop to my breasts, just for a moment, but it was enough to start a needy throb between my thighs. 

"Please," I said, so quietly that I feared I wouldn't be heard over the rain.

But he heard me.

Leaning back against the seat, I allowed him to grasp the jacket's zipper. His brow furrowed in concentration, and the warmth of his breath drifted over my bare skin. 

"There," he finally said with a triumphant grin. The jacket was now completely unzipped, which would enable me to pull it together in order to hide my bra.

Yet I made no move to do so. Sitting in that truck, I allowed it to fall open and reveal even more. 

I heard Russ's sharp intake of breath. Before he could pull away, I placed a hand on the back of his head. His curls were surprisingly soft beneath my fingers. Again, our eyes met, and I nodded in wordless invitation.

He didn't resist as I drew him close. A soft moan escaped his throat when I pressed his face between my breasts.

"We shouldn't do this," he murmured against my skin.

"There's no harm in it," I pointed out, using his own words.

Russ must have agreed, at least in that moment, for his mouth inched closer to my right breast. When his lips teased my nipple through the bra, the ache between my thighs grew painful. My body was more than ready for whatever Russ wanted to do!

He nuzzled my tit but made no move to free it. I was the one who unhooked the bra's front clasp. Looking up at me, Russ searched my face, as if trying to detect any hesitancy.

There was none. I felt safe with this man, and my arousal made me brave. "I want you to," I said firmly.

He lifted a hand and swept his thumb over my nipple. The sensation sent a current of lust straight to my pussy, which was already sopping wet.

Again, I wove my fingers through Russ's hair and guided him to my breast. The satisfied groans issuing from low in his throat excited me almost as much as his mouth. 

With trees on either side of us, I felt concealed, tucked out of sight. Maybe Russ did, too, because he didn't stop to tell me this was too risky. Instead, he turned his attention to my other breast while sliding a hand along my thigh. Though his stubble grazed my skin, I didn't at all mind. 

"My God, you're beautiful!" he sighed. His fingers inched even higher up my leg until they reached my crotch. Holding my stare, he began rubbing me through my jeans.

As I cried out, my hips rocked with an obscene rhythm. I'd never moved that way before, not even when masturbating. Russ smiled, clearly delighted by my response. His mouth sought out mine, and I could barely control myself returning that kiss. The instant our tongues met, I practically levitated off the seat.

"Are you a virgin, Eleanor?" Russ lowered his lips to my neck, his hand working relentlessly to pleasure me.

"Yes," I said through heavy breaths. 

"That explains it."

"Explains what?" My voice grew more guttural, and I knew I was close to orgasm. When Russ's fingers slowed, I grabbed his wrist to keep him from withdrawing. "Please don't stop!"

"I won't," he promised. "I can tell how much you need this. You've been such a good girl, saving yourself, but it's driving you crazy, isn't it?"

I could only nod since the words were caught in my throat. An anticipatory shudder rippled through my muscles, signaling to Russ I was almost there. 

"That's it, come for me," he urged. 

Gazing into his hazel eyes, I felt my features contort, as if I were about to burst into tears. A loud moan escaped me just before the climax descended, and I clung to Russ while my body contracted. In my sneakers, my toes curled from the force of that orgasm.

He waited until I'd caught my breath before sliding his fingertips over the button of my jeans. "Are you satisfied?"

Not yet, I wanted to say. I want more of this. More of you.

But I didn't say that. Instead, I gave him my most pleading look. The smile pulling at his lips let me know he understood.

With nimble fingers, Russ unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. "You mind if I do the same?" he asked. "I've gotten a little uncomfortable here." Glancing downward, he indicated the source of his discomfort.

"I would never want you to be uncomfortable." I was surprised at my seductive tone. With past boyfriends, I'd always been shy, close to tongue-tied, even weeks into our relationship. 

Russ quickly set about freeing his cock. Making no attempt to hide my curiosity, I studied his erection. It sprang from a thick patch of pubic hair, and the foreskin was drawn back to reveal a deep pink head. I guessed he was about six inches long; the veins lining his shaft were strangely appealing to me.

He groaned when I wrapped my fingers around his cock. I never would have been so forward with a guy my age, because that would have led to him wanting more than I was willing to give. But I knew Russ wouldn't push me; he seemed grateful for every touch and kiss.

Tentatively, I moved my hand up and down. The sensation made Russ momentarily slack-jawed. "That's so nice, baby!"

While I stroked him, he fondled his hairy balls. I gasped at the feel of his cock twitching in my grasp. 

Russ gave me another kiss, this one more insistent. It was just like the love scenes I'd read about in those paperbacks I bought at the pharmacy with my employee discount. It was what I'd been craving.

His lips were still on mine as he slid his fingers into my panties. Slowly, teasingly, he moved lower until I felt him exploring my pussy.

The lust he coaxed forth caused me to stroke him faster, and my urgency seemed to fuel his. With an expert touch, he homed in on my clit, which was still exquisitely sensitive.

"You're so wet," he whispered with a grin.

"Is that okay?" I squirmed on the seat, my hips carrying on that obscene movement. 

"It's perfect," he assured me. "Means you're really excited. And I am, too. You keep working my cock like this, you're gonna make me come."

That revelation had me trembling. "I want you to. I want to make you feel good."

"Oh, you are, Eleanor!" 

In the closeness of the truck, I could smell his sweat and mine. I could also smell my pussy, which would have embarrassed me at any other time. Now, I was too horny to care.

Russ's fingers kept up their relentless stimulation, circling and then gliding over my clit, until I could think of nothing but my need to orgasm again. 

"Please," I begged, and I discovered then that I liked begging him.

"I love seeing you this way," he said, his voice uncharacteristically rough. "So desperate for it!" His breath hitched in his chest, and he released another groan before continuing. "I love that you'll be a bad girl just for me."

My hold on his cock slackened while I came hard once more. My ass lifted off the seat, and my back arched fiercely. Somehow, Russ kept his hand between my legs through all my writhing. 

Only after I sank back down did he pull away. I watched as he lifted his slick fingers to his lips and licked them. 

Then he worked those fingers into my mouth, allowing me to taste myself. 

"So dirty." He seemed captivated by the way I swirled my tongue over his skin.

Finally, I recovered enough to remember that he hadn't yet come. I started to resume the hand job, then realized he would probably make a mess all over his jeans and shirt, and maybe the seat as well.

So I turned toward him and flashed a sly smile before lowering my head.

"Eleanor," he choked out.

But he didn't stop me from circling my lips around his tip. 

"Ah, fuck!" 

Now, he was the one sounding desperate. Yet his hand was gentle on my hair. 

Breathing in, I caught his musky scent. I tasted salt and something slightly bitter on my tongue. Saliva leaked from my lips as I took him deeper. I could hear him panting. 

"Eleanor, I'm close!"

Russ's dick pulsed in my mouth, as if to emphasize his warning. I kept at the clumsy, inexperienced blowjob, eager to please this man. 

Seconds later, I was rewarded with a blast of semen. It was hot and thick, striking the back of my throat and coating my tongue. Instinctively, I tried to pull off, but Russ held me in place. 

"Be a good girl and swallow it down," he said.

Those words made my pussy muscles clench. My gulps were audible as I strove to do what Russ said. Though the taste and texture of cum were off-putting at first, I quickly got past that, for I wanted, more than anything, to be his good girl.

When I was certain he was drained dry, I sat up and wiped at my mouth. Russ looked utterly content, happier than I'd seen him in a long time. Wearing an affectionate smile, he pulled me close. I was shocked that he was willing to kiss me after what I'd just done.

"Thank you for that," he whispered.

It was then that I felt a wave of shame threaten to inundate me. "You don't think I'm a slut?" 

"Of course not," he immediately replied. "You're a woman now, and you have needs. That's perfectly normal. I just can't believe you chose me to help you satisfy them."

Pressing a hand to his cheek, I said, "Why wouldn't I? You're kind and gentle. Not to mention hot." The compliment made him chuckle. "And I trust you," I added. "If I'd done this with a guy my age, he'd be bragging to his friends as soon as we were finished."

"Well, I certainly won't do that. You can always trust me."

I loved hearing him say that word: always.

By then, the rain had stopped. Russ and I rode in comfortable silence the short distance to my house. Before I climbed out of the truck, he placed a hand on my thigh.

"Hope to see you at church this Sunday," he said.

And he did see me. Wearing Wendy's new blouse, I stepped into the church sanctuary with my parents. While they greeted other members of the congregation, I headed toward the pew where we usually sat.

Russ was already there. Our eyes met, and we shared a knowing smile. I sat next to him, careful to keep an appropriate distance between us. All the while, I thought of what we'd done in his truck. 

I hadn't stopped thinking of it.

"It's good to see you, Eleanor," he said in a low voice. It wasn't a mere friendly greeting. No, I recognized that tone, and it now sent a delicious shiver through my body. Leaning closer, he brought his lips to my ear. "And you look absolutely beautiful."

I couldn't help but beam, though I knew it was risky for me to be seen blushing like a ridiculous schoolgirl.

I didn't hear a word of that sermon. When it was time for all of us to rise and sing a hymn, I inched closer to Russ, and he allowed his hand to graze mine. 

This wasn't love, I told myself. Not on his part or mine. But while I still planned to save my virginity for that first love, I understood Russ and I could help each other out in the meantime. 

And if I happened to sneak down the road to his house that night, wearing nothing under my jacket, I knew he wouldn't turn me away.

After all, there was no harm in it.