Danny Folsom was driving happily in his new car, which he had just collected. It was a present from his father for his eighteenth birthday, and he had the feeling that this could be a perfect day. That morning he had learned that he had obtained the high grades he required to follow the journalism course he wanted at university. However, nothing is that perfect, and later that morning, his girlfriend, Sandra, had told him that she thought it best for both of them if their relationship should end.
He had told her he was sorry to hear that, but wasn't too sure what he felt. They'd been going out together since they were sixteen. That was nearly two years of sheer frustration. He couldn't believe he had allowed it to go on. True, he liked her. Pretty rather than beautiful, she was. A curvaceous body, which had been a major part of his initial attraction, but which she kept firmly under wraps.
"We just don't seem to be on the same wavelength, Danny," had been her reason. Danny agreed fervently. Her wavelength was- nothing until marriage. Danny had known she was from a religious family, but more than that it was the influence of her close friend, Wendy. She had advised Sandra that, before marriage, doing it was a mortal sin. Sandra had also allowed herself to be convinced by Wendy that any kind of intimate touching was a step on the devil's pathway. Kissing had to be carried out carefully, to avoid straying into temptation. Danny had cringed whenever Wendy's name came up. What other restrictions might she come up with? No kissing at all? No eating at the same table? No talking after ten o'clock? Wendy was a pain.
Sandra had eventually allowed him to touch her breast, but only through her clothing. There had been one night when their kissing session had been long and more fervent than usual when she had suddenly asked, as he squeezed at her thick cotton covered breast, "Would you like to touch me there but on my skin?" He had no hesitation in pushing his hand under her jumper reaching for her bra release. In that instant she pulled away, "No, no. It's wrong. It's wrong." And that is the way it had remained. He'd had an overwhelming temptation to tell her, "It's because of you that I'm still a virgin."
So he was uncertain whether her announcement that morning had been good news or bad news. It did suggest freedom, but he wasn't sure. Despite her physical reluctance he had become attached to her. Like a habit you can't break.
So there it was, so far, his very own car, the exam results and a sort of freedom. His thoughts were teasing around just what the implications of that freedom would mean for him. Feeling good, he turned off the main highway onto the lane which his father always used as a short cut.
Hardly half a mile along this lane, with the first rain beginning to spatter the windscreen, he slowed as he saw the black car pulled onto the verge at a rather sharp angle. A shapely young lady was standing out in the rain, and she seemed to be kicking the car.
Natalie Barson kicked furiously at the flat tyre of her BMW. Bloody car. What a day this was turning into. In town to sign the divorce papers, she'd hoped she'd avoid seeing bastard Richard, but he had turned up just as she was leaving the solicitor's office, and she had to endure his nasty comments.
"Looking forward to having that big house all to yourself?" he had said, giving her that unpleasant grin that she had come to hate.
"Selling it," she had replied flatly.
"Christ, you're taking half my money, but getting more for the house. What a greedy bitch, you are."
"Getting somewhere smaller and free from unpleasant memories of you."
He sneered at that, "Still keeping your legs firmly crossed?"
This had been his initial excuse when his multiple affairs came to light. It was, he claimed, because she was frigid. She had brought on his frustration, he said. There was no doubt that her reaction to his adulterous behaviour had been to close down on him. But frigid she was not. In fact, if anything at this moment, she was the one with the frustrations. Hell, it was pushing on fourteen months since she last had any sex, and that had been a pretty grim one night stand with a virtual stranger at a friend's party.
Damn Richard, and damn punctures, as she kicked the tyre again. Only a mile from home, but even as she contemplated whether to try to replace the wheel herself, or to walk home along the lane, the first drops of rain had pinged on the car roof. An extra damn-the bloody weather.
The rain had already soaked into her blouse, and straightened her hair. As she was just about to open the boot, a blue Ford pulled in behind her car, and a young man stepped out. "Trouble?" he enquired, glancing down, and seeing the flat tyre. "Oh, yes, you have. Can I help?"
A strange male, a quiet lane, was a situation to make Natalie just a shade cautious. He did have an open friendly face, a pleasing manner, and, she couldn't help noticing, a good build in tight fitting pants and white T shirt, which was beginning to dampen quickly in the increasing rain. Natalie became very aware that her blue blouse was now clinging to her bra-less breasts. Would he notice?
Danny had noticed a few things. First of all the flat tyre, but his attention became more fixed on the woman rather than the car. She was stunning. Blue eyes, blond hair which was beginning to hang straight at her shoulders, as the rain came down, and a bosom that the rain was also emphasising. Prominent nipples suggested no bra.
Seeing his dark eyes take in her bosom made Natalie unsure, as she said, tentatively, "I was about to try to change the wheel."
He smiled at her, "Hell," he said," that's one of the few things I'm good at." Thank God for a male who doesn't pretend to be Lord of everything, Natalie thought. That, and the smile he had bathed her with, touched at something inside her. She was further touched when he said, "Look, go and sit in my car while I get this done."
He had opened the boot of her car, quickly bringing out the spare wheel.. Impressively efficient, Natalie mused, as she climbed into the passenger seat of his small car. Rather cramped in comparison with hers, and really she could hardly get any wetter.
Drenched already, Danny inspected the spare, and turned to give her the bad news. "Flat," he mouthed at the car window, and to prove it, he bounced it once on the road. It didn't bounce.
He opened the driver's door to confirm it to her. "Oh, shit-" And she checked, "—excuse me. I just can't believe it."
"So now?"
"I'll just have to get home and phone the garage."
"Live far?"
"About a mile along this road. Walkable when it isn't raining."
"Can I drive you?" He looked up at the sky, "Out of this."
Natalie had only a moment's hesitation. A lift from a strange man? Normally, no way. There are always potential rapists about. She wouldn't know what a rapist looked like. Then with an internal laugh she thought. 'Yes, I would, like bastard Richard, that's what.' Anyway this young man had appealed to her sensitive side. Without delay they were seated side by side in his small Ford.
