Her Mother pointed her finger at her. She hated it.She crossed her arms before continuing, “I think HE can decide what he wants to do and who he wan...s to be with.”Ah, now the silence, her Mother used that on her. Janice stared at her waiting for her to break as her Mother did. But she was immune to it as she stared back at her. Finally Janice broke the silence, “Yes, you are right, of course. But I am not so sure the police would be so enthused with what you are doing.”She was winning this. = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = * * * * * * * * * * * * It was 1958. Route 66 was in its glory as the primary route from Chicago to Los Angeles. While still in Illinois, shortly after the road passed through Springfield, just outside the small town of McLean, you passed by what was the premier truck stop of its day, the Dixie Trucker’s Home, usually referred to as “The Dixie Truck Stop.” This nationally-known truck stop was open 24/7, 365 days of the year. The huge sign with the word. After a pause he came in, I rose slightly on my elbows, but he held a finger to his lips as if hushing me, letting me know he wasn’t going to do anything wrong. My lover didn’t notice anything as he was absorbed in sucking me off; I was so close to come and didn’t mind his friend to be present.The guy was staring at us breathless, as if watching some miracle: he couldn’t contain himself, unzipped his fly, took out his cock and began jacking off, looking at me. That was too much for me and I had. Miller’s own cock pressed harder against his pants. “At any rate, I don’t think I’m a virgin. If I am, I’ll fuck you right now!”“Mary!” Mr. Miller gasped, “watch what you’re saying!”Mary scoffed and finally pulled something out of her bag. Except that instead of her pants, she pulled out a dictionary. “We’ll settle this thing once and for all!” Mr. Miller protested, though now it was only half-hearted as his hormones were starting to affect his better judgment. She read the definition out.