She was everything I like in a woman. Older, self assured, glamorous, with long red hair, creamy pale skin and a killer set of curves.
The sort of woman who knew what she wanted and who knew, if she wanted to, how to please a man.
She was alone in the place, perched up at the counter drinking a cup of black coffee. There must have been someone working there as well but I couldn't see who. She was perhaps dressed a little younger than her years, but that just made her all the hotter to me.
She was wearing tight little denim shorts and a gingham shirt. She had soft brown suede boots to the top of her shapely calves. A large cowboy hat was perched on her head.
This was Texas, after all.
She made my dick hard just to look at her.
She was perfect but I was lost. Lost and possibly in a bit of trouble.
I'd spent six months on a secondment in New York and had managed to negotiate an extended (unpaid) six week sabbatical before heading back to London. I had friends in LA but thought it would be a great idea to hire a Cadillac and take the scenic route. See America.
Which was fine but the vintage Cadillac I'd hired was by no means in tip top condition and I knew nothing about cars. I'd got lost in the dusty backroads of the middle of nowhere and there was a worrying smoke gently rising from the bonnet.
I had been very glad to find this dusty little coffee shop in the middle of nowhere, so I could stop and escape the moving death trap I'd saddled myself with. But it was a temporary solution at best.
I walked up to the counter, keeping a respectful distance from her. It was only by sheer force of will that I managed to avoid staring at her, but I was pretty sure she was looking at me.
Even in my predicament, I couldn't help being turned on being so close to her. I was aching to turn my head properly and check her out but somehow managed to restrain myself.
"Hello," I called out to the empty bar.
No response.
"Hello," I called out again.
"He's out back. He could be a while."
Her tones were pure honeyed southern magic. My enchantment was complete.
I turned to look at her. I guessed I had permission now.
God, she was hot. Late thirties I guessed, maybe a little older, but entirely ravishing. Her long auburn curls framing a beautiful face with mischievous emerald eyes.
Her look was cool and self assured and just a little bit amused. This was a woman who'd lived a life and come out on top.
Her skin was creamy smooth and flawless, her cheekbones were high and almost elfin. Her lips cherry red and soft and ravishing.
Her shirt was tied up under her breasts and she had plenty of deep cleavage on show. Somehow, I managed to keep my gaze fixed on her face but I longed to look down.
"You need something, darling? You look like you're in a fix."
Her voice was low and sensuous, like a lazy summer afternoon out on the verandah.
I felt completely tongue tied talking to this vision but, she was right, I was in a fix.
"Well, umm, I think my car has broken down. "
"I see."
She stood up on the footrest of her stool and leaned over the bar, the firm, round curve of her arse cheeks clearly visible beneath her denim shorts.
"Well, it doesn't look like he's coming back. Lets go look see, shall we?"
She drained her coffee cup, leaving a clear imprint of her lipstick in red on the white porcelain. She did a cute little skip down from the stool.
I followed her outside. I didn't know what else to do but at least it meant I got to admire the way her hips sashayed as she walked.
She let out a low whistle, when she saw the Cadillac.
"She's a beaut. She yours."
I just nodded dumbly and then, for some reason, said, "I've always liked the older models."
I didn't even know if I meant it as a come on or not but, she stopped and looked at me, as though making up her mind whether or not to be offended.
More than that though, she was pretty clearly checking me out, looking me up and down and deciding whether she could be bothered with me or not.
She clearly decided she could be, "A man of taste, I see. "
"Beauty or not though, she doesn't run very well. "
"She's a lady, she just needs some TLC," she said, stroking the lines of the car. "What seems to be the problem with her?"
"The engine keeps smoking."
She laughed, low and sexy, "That IS a problem."
She walked up to me and stopped barely six inches away from me, one hip out and raised her hand and put one extended forefinger in my chest.
"Well, this is what we're going to do. "
We were so close, I could smell her perfume. The desire to put my arms around her was overwhelming. I was so turned on, I was sure she could sense the hardness in my jeans.
"This little lady needs some professional attention. Now, I know just the man for the job but he could be hours away, so we've got a long wait, so you, young man, have a choice on your hands.
Either," and here she tapped my chest again with her finger, "you can go back in there and take your chances getting a cup of coffee, or ....
You can come home with me. "
"Home with you, please."
"Good choice, young man, good choice.
"I'm Darlene, by the way."
"Andrew."
"Very pleased to meet you, Andrew."
"And I am very pleased to meet you, Darlene," I replied, perhaps a little over eager.
She held out her hand for me to shake and then turned on her heel and started walking away from me. I just stood there, not sure what to do until, not even looking back, she raised her hand and beckoned me to follow.
I followed mutely behind her as she made her way to the back of the parking lot. There was the cab of a lorry parked in one corner. It was mint green and gleaming.
She looked over her shoulder at me, "Do you like my ride?" she asked, climbing up into it.
I climbed up next to her and sat there mutely as she gripped the stick and put it into gear.
We didn't talk as she drove along the dusty highway. She just sung some low wordless song to herself. I wondered how she kept her truck so clean in all that dust.
After a while we drove off the highway and into a large ranch, pulling up in front of a low slung whitewashed hacienda style building that I guessed was her house.
