I was three hundred miles from home heading south on the I-81 when the red light comes on.
I was heading to Philadelphia for a job interview with a large marketing firm. The pharmaceutical company he worked for had transferred my husband to Philadelphia so I had to find a job there to be with him.
We had been married for less than a year so neither of us wanted to be separated and commuting to see each other. Since my skills were marketable in most cities I had obtained an interview in Philly.
The red light glared angrily on the dash, the little thermometer icon warning something was amiss with the engine. I was going to have to stop,
Carbondale was a one-stoplight town and I coasted the Mazda into the town's only gas station and shut it off. The engine released a final gasp and a puff of steam escaped from under the hood.
Miro came sauntering out wiping his hands with a greasy old rag. The short bald guy was dressed in mechanic's overalls and looked like he had been working on cars since the days of the Model T.
"What's the trouble Missy?" he asked.
I explained to him about the light and he had me pull the hood release. Raising the hood he took a cursory look for the source of the steam.
"You blew a rad hose." Miro declared.
"Will it take long to fix?" I asked desperate to get on my way.
"Nope, but I will have to get one from Scranton." He informed me. "I don't stock parts for these foreign jobs."
"How long will that take?" I asked frustrated.
"Be tomorrow." Miro decreed, "To late to get it delivered today."
"Shit!" I was stuck in this hick town overnight.
I got on the phone to my husband Gord in Philly and explained my situation. I asked him to call my prospective employer and tell them I would be there tomorrow for the interview.
"Is there someplace I can stay?" I asked the grease monkey.
"Nothing in town." He answered.
Great! What was I going to do, sleep in my car?
"You can stay at our place." Miro offered.
I figured staying with Miro and his wife would be better than kipping in the car.
"Thank you." I said getting my overnight bag out of the car.
Miro gave me directions to his house, just a few blocks down the street. He said he would be along when he closed up.
Carrying my bag I drudged down the street until I came to the white frame at number ninety-five Ontario Street. I went up the walk and knocked on the green painted door.
A big black guy opened the door much to my surprise. He looked like a professional football player and was about in his mid-twenties.
"Excuse me, is this Miro's house?" I asked.
"Yup." The black man answered.
I explained my situation and he invited me in.
He told me his name was Tyrone and he rented a room from Miro. Tyrone told me he worked in the local bakery and being the only colored person in town he did not have many friends.
I had met a few black mans back home but was not particularly fond of them. They looked like they were several steps down on the evolution scale and hardly what I considered good looking.
Tyrone showed me the spare bedroom where I could stay and invited me to have a shower while I was waiting for Miro to get home.
The shower sounded inviting, it had been a long hot day and I would love to get rid of the road grime I had accumulated. I put my bag in the spare room and getting out my shampoo and a pair of shorts with a tank top I headed down to the bathroom.
Making sure the door was securely locked I stripped and stepped into the shower. The water was soothing and I felt the life beginning to flow through my veins again.
As my fingers washed my pussy I begin to enjoy it and continued to masturbate in the strange bathroom with a big black man just down the hall.
I brought myself to orgasm fantasizing about Tyrone walking into the bathroom and taking me. What nonsense I told myself as I toweled off.
