Spring Break 1

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Spring Break



By Jessica C

I’m Marty Stanley, a college sophomore in Pennsylvania, on my way to Florida for Spring break traveling down interstate 95. I’m presently going through South Carolina almost to Georgia. I left college real early this morning; planning to be in Florida tonight. Some say I’ll have a problem getting all the way to the beach area that we’re to be at today. Rex and Dilbert both changed their plans with me and left yesterday. So I’m left traveling on my own. We have an apartment we rented for the week, actually ten days.

I’ve been making good time through Virginia, the Carolinas and I’m close to being out of South Carolina. I had just drove through and area staked out by a lot of State Troopers and other law.


=^_^=


If I hadn’t slowed down I would have flown by this beautiful girl and her car along the side of the road. Everything about her yelled for me to pull over and see if I could help her. She is very attractive, and I love her outfit as well as the car she’s driving.

I had to drive past her before I could safely pull over, but she is very happy and grateful I did. She runs up to hug and give me a kiss just for stopping. She says, “Thanks for stopping, my names Sandra Sparks.”

I introduce myself, “Marty Stanley, I’m heading down to Florida for spring break.”

“Oh a college guy good. I’m hoping you can help me. I got a flat tire, my Momma and Daddy will be upset if they find out I got stranded here on the interstate.” She tells me, I was supposed to get a new tire before I went to see my friends at St. George. But I would have been late if I had to wait to get my car serviced and new tires. I called Charlie and have an appointment so I would get in and out quickly on my way back. This happened and now I’ll have to do it tomorrow, hoping Daddy don’t notice.”

“So why are you concerned if I can help you or not?”

“Well you’re my size and I couldn’t get the tire off, the nuts are too tight, someone used a power tool to put them on solid.”

I can’t believe that such beautiful car has such worn tires. “Your Dad should have taken your car and gotten new tires on before this.”

“Daddy was going to, but we went shopping and got some spring dresses and swimsuits that I just had to have. Daddy said he had to get more money.”

“Someone who has enough money so their daughter has a car like this, should still have enough money for tires.”

She smiles, “He does, we have plenty, but my Daddy has it because he doesn’t let go of it too easily. He says, I need to learn the value of money, but I do. You’d need to see the beautiful clothes I got. Much of it was 25% off. That’s why I bought so much then and I need it for spring.”

I went back to her open trunk to get out the tire and jack out. I said, “This car doesn’t have enough room to put that much shopping merchandise in.”

Sandra has a teasing smirk, “Momma and I were in my car and Daddy drove his new Caddy 300 V something. He usually parks at least three spaces beyond the last vehicle there. He was pissed when we stopped to shop, but Mom said he shouldn’t have been surprised. Both Momma and my sister have better cars than me.”

The tire looks normal size for which I’m thankful. I put the lug wrench to the wheel and begin to turn it. Well I tried. Then I kicked my foot down on it, jumped on it once I heard it give and knelt back down. Sandy hadn’t heard it, but it had given a little. So this time I’m back down on my knees leaning into turning it with all my strength. It gave a little again and then again and again.

Sandra lets out a, “Oouu” and then “I like that.”

I mentioned, “I guess I’m stronger than you thought.”

She says, “I guess the pretty guy is stronger than I had thought. But that is not what had my attention.”

I had started the different lug nuts and got them already to come off before I finished lifting the car to change wheels. I had the wheels changed and the lug nuts pretty tight before I set the tire back on the ground enough that I could force the lug nuts as tight as I could get them.

I was finishing that when Sandra began to sing a little ditty, “I see London, I see France, I see someone’s” and she stops. I turn to hear the end of whatever she was going to sing, but she says, “There not underpants.” I turn and look and sure enough my yellow panties are showing. I’m sure I turned a beet red.

Sandra says, “Don’t be embarrassed, I think they’re real cute and as you showed you’re no weakling.” I am looking for a cloth to wipe my hands before I dare tuck in my shirt. Sandy steps to me, “Here let me help tuck in your shirt.” She first straightens my shirt and then with one hand begins to tuck my shirt in, with her hand going down inside my belt and pants.

Teasingly she says, “Now doesn’t this feel good having a girl’s hand going around inside your pants… Oh sorry, maybe you don’t find a girl’s attention good?”

I quickly say, “No, I do. I’m not the kind of guy you might think.” Both of us are now hesitant to say anything. I get back to collecting the wheel with the flat tire as well as the tire jack back into the trunk. I walk around the car checking the other tires which don’t seem very good. I looked at a dealer emblem that says, ‘Hilton Head’. I ask, “Do you live near Hilton Head? How far is that? I’m afraid I should follow you home or to a tire store before I leave you?”

She says, “Once we get to the exit it’s not too far. If you could follow me, I could make sure you’re well rewarded. I could tell you like my outfit, so I could show you some of my other clothes as well. I think, you’d like them.”

I ask, “Is this Hilton Head some little town, I’ve never heard of it.” Truth is it is the home or a summer home of many who are filthy wealthy.

She giggles, “You’ve never heard of it, I thought you said you’re a business major. It’s a small city like area with many corporate CEOs and other wealthy people there.”

“So your folks are one of the wealthy families there?”

She again giggles, “We’re well enough off, but we’re not considered wealthy there.”


=^_^=


A State Trooper stops as we’re getting ready to leave. Trooper Bev Ryan gets out wanting to see our identification. Sandra tells her “Marty was kind enough to stop and help me. Now he’s going to follow me home and make sure I get there safely.”

Trooper Ryan says, “He is, well let me run a check on both of you. I want to make sure you’re both safe.” She takes our driver licenses and goes inside her patrol car to check. I am now getting a little upset as it is costing me good daylight time.

The trooper comes back, handing us our licenses saying, “Everything looks good, but you young lady make sure he doesn’t follow you into the house or gets you alone if no one’s home.”

“Even with no criminal record, you should be weary of letting a stranger get to you without others around.”

I say, “I’m not some big overpowering guy. I was just wanting to make sure she got there safely. I don’t think her other tires are that good?”

She says, “I checked them, they should be good to get home. And it is nice that you care. I’d escort her home if I thought you were dangerous. I just cannot tell.”

Trooper Ryan gets into her patrol car after we do and turns on all of her emergency lights to get the attention of oncoming traffic. Sandra pulls out first and I follow as the Trooper pulls out into traffic as well. The exit was a few miles ahead and I follow Sandra off and the Trooper follows me. We go under the interstate and east toward the ocean. The trooper turned north back onto the Interstate 95 north.

I saw at least two sheriff vehicles in a short distance. Sandra’s idea of a short distance is longer than mine. We have traveled over fifteen and then twenty-five miles before the signs indicate Hilton Head is close. We go over a toll bridge and Sandy was nice enough to pay my toll as well as hers. The toll person gives me a warning, “Make sure you’re good and don’t cause any trouble.”

It is another ten miles before we pull into a long driveway. I can see the ocean as we drive up to the house. There are other houses in the area, but they’re over a football field apart. We drive up to the front door where Sandra stops and indicates I should do the same.


=^_^=


She checks inside and waves me in. The house probably isn’t considered a mansion, but it’s not far from it. I walk in and the ceilings on the first floor at probably fifteen feet high. A young college age woman comes skipping down some steps to greet us.

Sandra and her sister start at the same time, but her sister is speaking louder, “Hi, I’m her big sister Hannah. I’ve just got home from university on spring break. Sandy said you helped her with a flat tire on Interstate 95. …My folks are going to want to thank you personally. Thankfully, it will be two hours before they get home.”

“Thankfully, I’ll be in Georgia hoping to be close to Florida, by then.”

Hannah says, “Then Sandy didn’t tell you what she was hoping to do for you?”

I’m thinking a nice dinner, allowing me to get into the ocean or something nice but simple. I wouldn’t have guessed. Sandy perks up with no shyness, “I was hoping you would like a chance to dress up in a pretty dress of mine or Hannah’s. And we could do your makeup and brush out your hair. I even have some new panties and bras you could choose from.”

The statement so matter of factly given takes my breath away and I look for a place to sit. Hannah says, “She told me about your pretty yellow panties and that you must have been wearing lipstick earlier. I’m not sure if you regularly wear earrings but those are especially nice for a boy.”

“You have me all wrong,” as I’m saying it I’m sure I’m not convincing. “I can explain. We celebrated last night and…”

Hannah says, “Give it a break, you refreshed the lip gloss not so long ago. And you weren’t careful. You used one that stains, stays on and doesn’t wipe off easily.”

Hannah says, “The Trooper probably thought you were cute as well as harmless.”

Sandy says, “Don’t be embarrassed, we both think it is cool to meet you and have you here. But a minimum of two hours doesn’t really leave us a lot of time to dress you up and give you a chance to see yourself a little as a girl.”

They each take hold of a hand and I’m a third of the way up the staircase before I pull to a stop. “No, you can’t; I shouldn’t. I’m not a Ken doll.”

Sandy begins to giggle uncontrollably, “No, you’re much closer to Barbie.” She catches herself, “I’m sorry, I am not trying to make fun of you but to compliment how pretty I think you’re going to look.”

I don’t exactly know when they started walking up the stairs again, but I’m on the second floor walking toward an open bedroom door. Hannah touches my hair, letting her fingers glide through it, “You need to get yourself good and clean, before I let you try on an outfit and girly up. I suggest a shower.” She comes in front of me saying, “You take nice care of your hair for most guys. It’s lacking body and could use a good conditioner for you. A bigger question is, are your legs smooth and hair free?”

“I let them go two weeks ago when I knew I’d be out on the beach for spring break.”

Hannah says, “There are a number of excuses you could have given, but the hairy creature is out and you need to slay him. I’ll let you use a new razor. If your face is any indication it shouldn’t be a big task.”

“But what if your folks come home early, what am I to do?” Both chime in, “They won’t! They’re more likely to take longer.”

Before I go to the shower they insist they have to measure me to make sure they know what size I am.

I’m in and out of the shower the Bumble B shampoo and conditioner were fantastic. I’ve dried it out some and rolled it up in a towel. I had longed for a moment like this but had given up on it ever happening. And now I’m toweling off my body. I think it was Sandy’s body wash that I used. I know I’m imagining the difference is more than it probably is.

Hannah knocks on the door and walks in the bathroom, which is the size of my bedroom, as is their closet. I commented on them both and Hannah says this is all Sandy’s space. Our Dad thought it was a bit much, but he gave in. Sandra compromised so Daddy didn’t have to redo the house plans any more. I think her bedroom is 18’ by 18’.

“Here scoot into these silky boy shorts they’ll help hide what you need to.” I am pulling them up, fairly sure Hannah is checking out my legs. “Very good, very good indeed girl.” Her finger coming up a leg is a feeling of ecstasy that I’ve never felt before. Unfortunately it is shortly lived. She helps me put on a short robe and takes me out into Sandy’s bedroom.

Sandy is putting out the last and most lavish of three choices: a beautiful skirt and layered top for one, a beautiful dress and lastly a gown with many accessories. Both Sandy and Hannah say that the last one would be more work with less time to enjoy it. If we wanted to be good and safe. I choose the short evening dress.

Sandy takes me over to her bed and asks me to lay down so she can fit me. Hannah says, “These were for my little sister when she was not endowed like me.” There is the tracing of circles around my nipples. I am beside myself in letting two girls do this to me. But my desire to see what I will look like helps me to relax enough and not to slap their hands away like I feel I should.

Once traced, Hannah carefully glues the areas and by the time she finishes the second area. Sandy with clean hands carefully places the faux breast form to my chest. Then she lets out a mournful groan. “Oh I put it on the wrong side.”

Thankfully it wasn’t, but I had taken the bait and was ready to cry. Then her sister says, “Quit teasing, we want to get this done and her dressed and made up.” Hannah is placing the other form on and holding it in place.

Looking down on the breast forms may not be the best angle of taking their beauty in, but it is the closest I have ever been. I am very impressed. I am even more so after Sandy blends in the makeup along the edges and one can see no difference.

Hannah says they are especially nice and realistic. They fill the bra exquisitely. And the dress allows the cleavage to show ever so modestly, but it’s all more than I am ready for.

Just a light makeup job is done and my hair is brush to look very feminine.


=^_^=


We’re now sitting downstairs sipping some wine and eating cheese. I go to the kitchen to return my finished wine glass and I’m coming back to the sitting area where we were gathered. The door from the garage is close to me and it begins to open. Mrs. Ellen Sparks comes in and says hello as she sees me.

Hannah and Sandra both come hurrying into the hallway. “Mom, what are you doing home, you’re early?”

“Yes, we thought it would have been a half hour at the earliest; we were hoping longer to two hours.”

Sandra introduces me, “Momma this is Marti Stanley; we met earlier today when she helped me.”

Mrs. Sparks says, “Once your father got a call from someone who said they saw you on the side of the Interstate being helped. Your Dad called the State Patrol and found out you were okay and that the trooper made sure you were safely on your way home.”

Your Dad says, “We heard that a Marty Stanley helped you but the description was of a young college guy with long hair. I would like an explanation before I jump to the wrong conclusion...”

The conclusion to soon follow...



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This story is 3086 words long.