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This story is based upon real events in 1975.
Jean pounded on the steering wheel of her old Rambler sedan, “Shit, shit, shit!” Her heart was pounding after skidding into a water-filled ditch. She tried hitting the gas, but the tires just spun.
Torrential rain beat on the car and obscured her view of the desolate country road. A large tree branch slammed into the hood and bounced off. The car shook from the hurricane winds.
Jean was trembling from cold and the shock of the impact. Jean hugged her shivering body and tried to figure a way out of her predicament, “Someone has to come along this road. I just need to stay warm and not panic. I can get some warm clothes from my bag in the trunk.”
The car door was stuck at first but creaked open when she shoved against it with all of her meager weight. She stepped out into the downpour and held onto the car as the wind threatened to blow her away. She saw that the car frame was hung up on the near bank of the ditch while the rear of the car was shoved against the opposite side of the water filled ditch.
“OK Jean, you can do it. I just need to cross the ditch to get into the trunk. I can’t get any wetter.”
Jean held onto the car and tried to ease her way into the ditch. Her flip-flops slipped on the mud and she fell hard onto her hip as she slid into the ditch. Murky water came up to her waist after she fought her way back to her feet. Jean tried to laugh. “Well, that is one way to get into the ditch.” The rear of the car was crumpled into the bank of the ditch. Jean couldn’t budge the trunk. She pounded on the back of the old Rambler sedan with no effect.
She managed to crawl up the muddy bank by grabbing some roots. She stumbled into the car and jerked the door shut. She was shivering and exhausted from the effort. Her hip was bleeding and she had lost her flip-flops. Her once cute cutoff jeans were now ripped up one side to her waistband. She curled into a fetal position on the bench seat and hugged her knees. She screamed as another large branch slammed into the car. She began to sob.
She had woken that the morning exhilarated at the prospect of seeing her boyfriend, Steve, one last time before he headed off to California to start his new job. She planned on fucking his brains out so he would remember her when he was surrounding by all of those dumb bleach blond California girls. She couldn’t forget his stupid joke about wanting to date California girls.
It had been hot and sunny when she left Philadelphia for the four-hour trip north to Ithaca, NY. She hadn’t planned on stopping along the way so she felt safe wearing a skimpy outfit that was to be Steve’s special treat. The outfit consisted of frayed cutoff jeans and a knit cotton halter top. A small rip up the side of the jeans was fastened with a safety pin. Years later Steve would show her a picture taken from the side with her wearing this same outfit. She was shocked to see that the shorts revealed not only her long legs but also her lower ass cheeks. The halter top showed a lovely view of the sides of her pert breasts.
She had lived with Steve for two years while she finished her undergraduate degree at Cornell, and he completed his doctorate in physics. He was easily the smartest guy she had ever been with, but he was socially awkward. Still he had proven to be an enthusiastic lover once she had trained him. Why did guys have no idea that most women needed extra attention in order to have an orgasm? It was as if men thought that women got off just by having a cock pounded into their cunt.
At the end of the summer, she had left for Temple Law School in Philadelphia. Her aspiration was to litigate class action lawsuits in defense of women’s rights. Instead, reality consisted of boring courses in Contracts, Torts and Property. The classes were harder than she had expected and she was struggling. She phoned Steve a couple of times a week and he had done his best to listen to her woes and offer encouragement. What she needed was a hug and some affection. When she called the night before, Steve had welcomed her to visit for his last weekend in New York.
The beginning of what should have been a short trip up the interstate was in bright sunshine. The trees in the western Pocono Mountains were near the peak of their fall colors. The road provided striking views of hills and valleys coated in multiple shades of red, yellow and green. Her sunny mood faded while she was still south of Wilkes-Barre and the wind and rain began.
Jean also planned to visit her Mom while she was in Ithaca and had called her just before leaving Philadelphia. Her Mom cautioned her about Hurricane Eloise, but she also said it shouldn’t be much of a problem since Eloise had made landfall along the Florida Panhandle and was expected to dissipate well before it reached Pennsylvania. Jean was unaware of the increasing threat from Eloise since the radio in her decrepit Rambler was broken as well as the Antalya Escort heater.
The scenery was obscured by the driving rain and even with the wipers on high, her view of the road ahead was getting poorer by the minute. The temperature was dropping and she shivered in her scant outfit. A flash of anger crossed her mind as she remembered how her boyfriend had broken the car heater while trying to fix the cooling system.
As she rounded a bend, she saw flashing lights ahead on the interstate. Several cars were lined up. A state trooper in rain slicks was directing people toward the exit. When she got to the trooper, he said, “There is a serious truck accident ahead and you have to turn around or take the detour. I suggest taking the detour since the weather is a lot worse south of here.”
“I don’t have a map. Is the detour very long?”
The trooper replied, “It’s only a couple of miles of good county highway. Just follow the car ahead and you’ll be fine.”
She took the detour and at first all was well. The country road was well maintained. She kept close to the car ahead and could see the lights of several cars in front of her, but there was nobody behind her. The road was covered in flowing water and occasionally there were deeper pools. She hit one of the pools and hydroplaned. She struggled with the wheel and managed to bring the car to a halt as the engine stalled.
As the lights of the cars ahead got dimmer, she struggled to restart the car. In desperation, she pumped the accelerator pedal but only succeeded in flooding the carburetor with gas. She took a deep breath and remembered instructions from her Mom who taught Driver’s Education in high school. She held down the accelerator and cranked the starter. She managed to restart the car and urged it forward in an attempt to catch up with the other cars. She couldn’t see anything except blowing rain and the wet winding road ahead. Several minutes of driving passed before the road she was on came to a fork. Both ways looked the same. Jean fought against the rising fear and turned left in the direction she figured would lead back to the interstate.
The road wound over hills covered by dense forest. The sky was getting darker from the storm. She didn’t see any sign of civilization, not even a light. Suddenly the car shook as the pavement turned to gravel with a washboard surface. Jean muttered a curse and desperately looked for a place wide enough to turn around. As she came around a corner, the car skidded on a muddy patch. She tried to control the skid, but the car spun around and the rear end settled in a water filled ditch.
She woke in alarm to the sound of someone pounding on the car roof and yelling.
“Hey, are you all right? Hey lady, do you need help?
Jean was blinded by a flashlight shining in her face. She shielded her eyes with her hand as she rolled down the window. Driving rain lashed her face as soon as she cracked the window.
Jean had to yell to be heard over the howling wind, “Oh thank god you’re here. I need to get out of this ditch and back on the interstate.”
The man trained the flashlight toward the back of the car and paused on the spot where the car frame rested on the bank of the ditch.
“Sorry, there is no way we are going to get your car out tonight. Even if we could most of the roads in the county are closed.”
“But my Mom is expecting me at home. She’ll be worried sick.”
“Better she is worried than mourning you at your funeral. You can shelter at my cabin with my wife and son. It’s just a short way down this road. I just made a run to the corner store for supplies so we should be able to ride out the storm.”
Jean looked at the hulking form of the strange man with apprehension. She couldn’t stay here but was he lying about a family? Jean shivered from cold and anxiety. A large gust of wind rocked the car and helped make up her mind. “Ok, I really appreciate your offer.”
Jean closed the window and pushed on the door. It was stuck. The man grabbed the handle and jerked hard. The door slowly opened with a screech of tortured metal. The man wrapped his large, rough hand around her upper arm and pulled her out of the car into the driving rain. She stumbled as the wind threatened to carry her slender body off.
The man half dragged her to his ancient pickup truck. He jerked open the passenger door and pushed her inside. He went around and got in. He cranked the engine over and over until it started. It was running rough, but at least the heat worked. Jean began to feel warm for the first time in hours. Her shoulder length brunette hair was plastered to her face. She was sopping wet and dripping all over the seat. She realized that the ratty seat bench was covered by a burlap sack. She relaxed about getting his seat wet.
Jean said, “Thanks for saving me. I was beginning to think I might die.”
She looked at the tall man in the waning light. Antalya Escort Bayan His eyes were glued on the road as he fought the wind and rain buffeting against the truck. He was a solidly built and looked like he was in his late thirties. His weather-beaten face and hands showed that he was used to hard outdoor work. He was dressed in overalls and rubber coated Mackintosh. His work boots were caked in mud.
He said, “Glad to help. I’m Owen, Owen Llewellyn. My wife Catrin will be happy to have some company in this storm. My boy’s name in Trynt.”
“Thanks, Owen, I’m Jean.”
Owen asked, “How did you end up out in the middle of nowhere on the track to my place?”
Jean didn’t want to discuss her plans for her boyfriend and said, “I was taking a break from school to visit my Mom. I didn’t think this hurricane was supposed to reach Pennsylvania.”
“Yeah, we didn’t get much warning either. Lucky for you I had to make a run for some supplies.”
Jean watched the man as he spoke trying to read his intentions. His voice was strained from fighting the storm battering his truck but still he sounded gentle and intelligent. She hoped he was telling the truth since she had no way to defend herself against such a strong man. She had always been nervous around older men since she had been raised by a single parent since her father left when she was two.
Owen said, “We are almost to the cabin, but we have to cross a small stream around the bend. Hopefully, it hasn’t risen too much yet. Best you hold on tight.”
Even though Owen’s words were reassuring, his furrowed brow and white knuckles gripping the steering wheel betrayed his apprehension. She became frightened when she saw the amount of water surging across a concrete culvert in the road ahead. She braced herself as Owen gunned the engine and plowed into the stream. Part way across the rear end of the truck broke loose and Jean was thrown across the seat into Owen’s shoulder. Out of the driver’s window she saw the raging stream plunging over a cliff into the darkness. Jean shrieked as Owen shoved her back to her side of the seat. The rear tires caught the edge of the culvert and Owen gunned the truck up the other side.
Owen exhaled and said, “That was a bit too hairy! Are you OK?”
Jean was trembling as she replied, “I think so. Are there anymore ‘little streams’ ahead?”
Owen laughed, “Nope that was the last. We have about a half mile left. Another hour of this downpour and that stream will be impassable. We are probably going to have to hole up in the cabin for a few days. Fortunately, your car is stuck near the top of a hill and should be all right.”
They drove around a corner and stopped at the end of the dirt road. Owen turned off the headlights and plunged them into darkness. The storm cloud covered sky had been dark for several hours but now that the sun had set the darkness was total. He turned on a flashlight and pointed it out the passenger window indicating a well-worn path leading up a forested hill. The pine trees were swaying wildly in the wind and the rain was stronger than ever.
“It’s about a quarter mile to the cabin. The trees will give us some cover until we get to the top. I’d like to get the supplies up in one trip. You look a little scrawny, but I think you can handle the smaller bag.”
As he talked, he focused on her for the first time. He could not believe anyone would go out in a storm dressed in such a ridiculous outfit. She was barefoot and her long legs were bare up to a ragged pair of cutoff jeans. The short jeans were ripped up the side to the waistband showing her hip and the top of her low rise panties. Her rain soaked halter top was made of thin cotton that tied behind her neck and in the middle of her back. Twin bulges in the halter top hinted at her hardened nipples. From the side, the sagging halter top exposed the side of her ample breast almost to the nipple.
Jean shrank under his stare and crossed her arms around her chest. She said, “I’ll do my best.”
“Good. I’ll help you into the trees and then go back for the supplies.”
Owen got out of the truck and worked his way to her door. He grabbed her upper arm and helped her as she stumbled barefoot into the shelter of the forest. He went back and got the smallest bag.
Owen had to yell to be heard over the wind, “You’ll have to hold this while I get the other bags.”
He handed her the end of a large burlap bag and positioned the load in the middle of her back. She leaned forward under the weight and almost fell. She couldn’t believe he expected her to carry so much. He went back and returned with two even larger bags. He had one over each shoulder and was bent under the weight.
He yelled, “We need to get moving. Can you make it?”
Jean looked up at him and shouted, “Let’s go!”
He started up the path to his cabin. He moved slowly under his heavy load. Even so, she struggled to keep up in the drenching rain. The trail Escort Antalya was covered in wet pine needles that provided soft but firm footing for her bare feet.
The woods were illuminated only by the flashlight and continual flashes of lightning. Every now and then a tree branch came crashing down close enough for them to hear it over the roar of the wind. Even though he had said a quarter of a mile, it seemed like they had been walking forever. Finally, a flash of lightning revealed a small log cabin set into a hill next to a barn and a large pig pen.
Owen leaned into the wind and quickened his pace while Jean struggled to keep her footing on the now slippery path. She made it to the pens and only had a few yards to go to the shelter of the cabin. Suddenly her feet went out from under her and she slipped down the slope on her back. She desperately held on to the bag and dragged it behind her as she slowly slid into a muddy pig pen. Just as her head slide under the mud, she felt the bag being pulled up the bank. Owen drew her slowly from the pen as she retched and spit out gobs of stinking muck.
“You sure picked the worst place to fall. God, you are a stinking mess!”
He dragged her the last few yards to the partial shelter of the cabin porch. He put her bag onto a bench next to his bags. He pulled her back out into the rain. Water was pouring off of the roof of the cabin. He pushed her under the largest stream. Jean shivered from the cold water as the mud came flowing off. Owen helped her back onto the porch after most of the mud washed off.
He yelled, “I’m going to get my wife to help you finish washing up.”
He opened the cabin door and set the three bags inside. His wife came to the door and threw her arms around his neck.
“I was so worried! You were gone so long.”
Owen shouted over the storm, “Johnson road was flooded and I had to backtrack. This women’s car was in a ditch on the way to our place. It’s really not her day; she just slipped into the pig pen and needs to get clean before she comes inside. I’m going to check on the animals in the barn.”
His wife ducked back inside and reappeared with a block of homemade soap and a lantern.
His wife yelled, “Hi, I’m Catrin. We need to get you cleaned up. We may be stuck inside for a while and the smell of pig slop will get overwhelming. I’m afraid you need to remove all of your clothes. Once we get most of the muck off, I have a warm tub of water inside to finish the job and thaw you out. I just need to finish my son’s bath before you can have the tub.”
Jean was exhausted and she was trembling from the cold. Even in the partial protection of the porch, the cold, wet wind threatened to knock her down. She desperately wanted to get into the shelter of the cabin. She reluctantly peeled off her halter top and dropped it on the bench. Her torso was coated with muck and her hair was a mess. As she washed her hair, she was embarrassed by Catrin staring at her bouncing breasts. Her stained nipples were erect from the cold. Jean turned her back to the woman and rinsed her hair under the water pouring off of the roof. She lathered her hair up again and after a second rinse she was satisfied. She began to scrub her chest with the rough soap. The soap contained small pieces of ash that scratched her tender breasts. Her icy cold nipples were especially sensitive.
Catrin took the halter top and rinsed it in the stream of water flowing off of the roof. She hung the halter top on a nail high on the cabin wall. She said, “Can I wash your back?”
Jean nodded. She was surprised at the strength in the petite woman’s rough hands. Jean had to brace herself against one of the porch pillars as Catrin forcefully scrubbed her back.
When Catrin was done she yelled in Jean’s ear, “OK, now you need to remove those shorts. They’re just plain filthy.”
Jean skinned off the shorts revealing her bikini panties that barely covered her curvaceous ass. Jean was dismayed to see that her once light blue panties were now dark with muck from the pig pen. Catrin took the shorts from Jean and rinsed them before hanging them on another nail.
Catrin yelled, “Afraid you’ll need to remove everything. Those panties are disgusting. We can clean them later.”
Jean looked at woman in disbelief. She was shivering uncontrollably and started to cry.
Catrin put her arm around Jean’s shoulder and said, “Please we need to get you clean and inside quick. Don’t worry you’re safe here.”
Jean peeled off her filthy panties and handed them to Catrin. She had recently found a place in Philly that had shaved and waxed her bush except for a small trim triangle above her slit. Bare pussy was something very new and she hoped to surprise her boyfriend. She was disgusted to see that the pig muck had even reached her triangle of brown pubic hair. She scrubbed her pussy hard with the scratchy soap and worked her fingers into her slit. Next she washed her ass which felt slippery from the muck. She paid particular attention to her butt crack. When she was satisfied, she started working on her long legs. She was just finished when a strong gust blew Catrin into her and they went down in a pile on the porch deck. Catrin helped her up holding onto a pillar.
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