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I’m not proud of this story, but it is one of those exceptional experiences that one doesn’t forget.

This was way back when I was on my first real job. I was living alone at the time and so had to bear the full cost of all my living expenses (no roommates), so keeping the bills paid through a full-time job with respectable pay was essential. My job at the time was a significant distance from the lower-rent district of my apartment, so there was a significant commute to deal with every day. During “drive time” it could be very long, but not bad if that could be avoided. My hours were somewhat variable, so sometimes I got stuck in traffic for a long time and sometimes not.

The ”culture” at my job was pretty casual. It was not customer-facing nor formal “business”, so there was not much of a dress code; it was pretty much “casual Friday” all the time. Get your work done and nobody much cared about stuff like that. Most of the guys would be in decent jeans and a polo-like shirt. At the time I had a thing for “jams” (anybody remember?), which were very loose-fitting, very breathable, elastic-waisted pants, often in bold patterns. Beach-inspired. I liked their comfort and colorfulness more than basic jeans. I’d wear a bland polo up top, so my attire was bit like a mullet (you know – business in the front and party in the back?), kind of business up top and party down below. Though I stood out from my coworkers, there was no objection from my boss because I was a good worker.

Being of a hormone-charged age, being ripe for sexual adventure, being stuck in a routine job, often stuck in traffic … I found myself often stuck with that piercing kind of boredom at times that seems to run from the dulled brain all the way down to the blue balls. In that frequent situation, it was perhaps inevitable that one of my drive-time hands would find its way under the elastic waist of my jams to idly fondle my junk. I’m not talking about careening down the highway jerking off … but what better to do with an idle hand while stuck in traffic? It’s not that anything in traffic was arousing – god no – it was just that idle “got nothing better to do” kind of thing.

So that would happen quite often. But sometimes, if I happened to have some more active thoughts rattling around in my brain, I’d take advantage of that elastic waist and scoot the jams down enough to let my junk breathe and maybe get a full chub going.

There was never any risk of being seen and I couldn’t have “shown off” or flashed anyone even if I had wanted to – I drove a van that had me riding a bit higher than most regular vehicles, and door frames were a bit higher than in a regular car, so my “secret” was very private despite being in traffic. Kind of the way that some semitrailer drivers are rumored to drive bottomless … because they can.

So that’s the scene when one day I was driving to work a bit later than drive time in mercifully light traffic. I was not really in that bored/chubbing kind of mental place since things were moving along. Then I noticed up ahead at one of the highway interchange ramps there was a clean-looking male/female college-age couple with backpacks and a cardboard sign indicating the city they were trying to reach. There was a college nearby, so it seemed plausible that they were college students heading somewhere on a school break.

Was this a girlfriend/boyfriend? That did not seem likely to me since she was a cute-looking almost perky-looking sandy blonde and he was a tall, lanky, slack faced type that didn’t seem the likely choice of a girl who could probably get any guy she wanted. Yeah, I know, stereotypes. I passed them by, but my mind quickly raced to a very weird place, and I thought, “What the hell …”

I quickly U-turned at the next opportunity and drove back. They were still there. I drove on a little further, and pulled another U-turn, this one with a brief stop at a traffic light, where I pulled off my polo and quickly pulled my jams down to my knees. Though no stroking was really needed at this point, I gave myself a few firm tugs. I made my way back to the pair, then pulled over and buzzed the passenger side window down.

It was the girl that came to the window, apparently the alpha of the pair. The guy stayed hanging loose a bit behind her. She leaned in the window as I sat there, slightly twisted, full frontal to my knees, my cock at full mast. To my surprise, and a little relief, there was no negative reaction from her on seeing me naked, even when her eyes obviously dropped to look directly at my fully erect cock. Maybe it was her nature, maybe it was the fact that she felt “safe” being with her male fellow-traveler. I don’t know.

Her story was that they were brother and sister, heading home on break, trying to get to [*] City. That made sense now – you can’t pick your siblings! So though she probably would not pick him as a boyfriend, she could love him as a brother. Probably a somewhat younger brother, from their body language. I told her – truthfully – that though the highway they were hitching on does go generally in the right direction for a while, it then veers off and doesn’t really go there. I suggested that they would be better off hitching on highway [#], which does go directly there, but is a few miles further down the road. I told her that I couldn’t take them to the [*] City, but I could drive them the few miles over to highway [#] where they would be better set to continue their trek.

I expected a simple “thanks, no thanks” or some such, but without even turning to look at her male companion, she said “Sure! Thanks!” So, I buzzed open the side panel door, expecting them both to get in the back. The brother did, but the sister just dropped her backpack with her brother and got in the front passenger seat beside me, seated kind of sidesaddle, leaning partly against the side door with one knee up on the passenger seat. Wow. That kind of body language could reflect her being uncomfortable, wanting to be as far away from me as possible, but her smile and the fact that she could have jumped in the back said the opposite. I looked in the rearview mirror at the guy and actually began to believe the brother-sister story. He was quiet, looking away, in that “beta” kind of way a younger brother might do when deferring to the older sister in charge. He didn’t say a word.

And so, we pulled out onto the road.

It was then, moving down the road, she said the obvious for the first time …

“So what happened to your clothes, buddy?” (She actually said “buddy” … I have no idea why I remember that.)

I related the basic true story already told above how my commute to work is aways long and boring and this was just a way of making it more pleasant. (I did not add that this was the first time I had done so fully nude.) That seemed to make sense to her. She was remarkably casual about the whole thing, conversing as if all was normal and being unshy about looking at my nakedness, even enjoying it, while her silent brother in the back kept his eyes out the side window, saying nothing.

Since she seemed to be very comfortable, I returned to fondling my cock as she watched … not jerking off, but keeping myself at full size, teasing her. She continued smiling. I took a chance.

“When I came upon you guys, I was kind of in the middle of something (stoking) … mind if I continue?”

She quickly said, “Go for it, dude,” again not even acknowledging her brother. She never “joined me” … her brother was in the seat right behind her, after all … but being safely screened from her brother’s view, I did notice that one hand was cupping the crotch of her jeans.

And so, being very mindful of the light traffic, staying in the slow lane at lower speed, I proceeded to stroke myself more purposefully. This would not be a drawn-out exercise, as much as I would have liked to have it last. I was already at the edge from just the events already transpired, and there was limited time before we would get to their drop-off point. Actually, I had to take some care not to blow too soon … I wanted to make the most of this experience. Though my eyes were on the road, I could see peripherally that she was totally locked-in to every stroke, which made it even harder not to cut loose too early. I could be wrong, but I thought I could see that cupped hand moving a little. So, I kept stroking, edging, until I could see the target off-ramp appear, then I let loose with a huge cum, shooting rope after rope across the steering wheel, trying to stifle my grunts in order to avoid freaking out the brother too much.

She had this big smile and just said, “Cool, dude!”

Another hundred yards and we arrived at the promised off-ramp. I dropped them off a bit awkwardly, with some of that animated, orgasmic energy still settling down. No words, as I was not quite back to the point of carrying on a conversation. They trundled out of the van with their gear, heading for the highway. Then, almost as an afterthought, she turned back and gave me a big thumbs up … thumbs up back … cool indeed.

Before pulling away I put my polo back on and looked around inside the van, muttering to myself …

“I gotta start keeping a towel handy.”