Ginger Craft: Overripe

It was beautiful.

Julie wheeled the small car expertly down the broad highway, the sun streaming in on her. The top was down and the wind fluttered her long copper-colored hair behind her. She had never felt so free.

Eighteen years old, vibrant with youth and beauty, she had been stifled-or so she thought- these past nine months. College was a drag. She was a good student, but college was a drag anyway. But that was behind her, at least for the next three months.

Now, it was the last week in May, and she had three lovely, warm months to be free, to be herself.

And what was Julie?

It was a question she had asked herself many times. There were times when she felt she was two people. And, in a way, Julie Kramer was two people, with totally separate personalities, separate wants and desires. One part other played the game as established for her. Most of the time she was a demure, somewhat shy girl, quick to smile and quick to laugh. This Julie Kramer was the face she presented in her college life. But during the evenings, nights, and weekends, she was altogether a different girl.

And this was the girl Julie enjoyed the most.

The weekend, the evening, the night Julie was a hot-blooded, sensual, sex-loving girl. She would often get far enough away from college so she wouldn't be recognized, make a pick up, and fuck for as long as time would permit.

Behind the facade of her demure, often shy, appearance, Julie Kramer was a girl who bubbled for sex. She needed sex the way any other person needed water; her very existence depended on sex, and in huge quantities. She didn't care for a permanent partner at all. One man could become a bore after a while, she had discovered early in her life. Julie wanted variety, a change, anything that could keep her life moving along with excitement.

To those who knew the night Julie, she was the most uninhibited, the most abandoned, most wanton girl they had ever seen. She was starved for sex, not affection. Affection she had from her mother, from her brother. But they couldn't provide sex.

To those who knew her on the campus, she was sweet, shy, but very friendly-a girl they all loved to be with. There were a few studs on campus who had made passes at her, but she had brushed them off in such a way that feelings had not been injured. She was known as a good pal, a girl who would help with assignments, who would go to a drive-in, maybe have a glass of beer, talk and joke. None of the boys and girls on campus realized they were with a virtual bundle of explosive sexuality that could devour them.

Julie often laughed to herself about her situation. She would dream of ways to shock the faculty and student body out of their pants. But of course she never did. It was better, for her purposes, to be known as the sweet, shy beauty who was studious, who was virginal.

But it was the sensual side she liked the most.

On weekends, especially, she would dress in her small off-campus apartment. She would bathe thoroughly, splash a subtle scent on strategic places of her body, brush her coppery hair until it shone with tiny sparkles. A slight touch of lipstick was the only make-up she ever wore. She had no use for creams and oils and all the other things guaranteed to make a woman desirable.

Julie, on weekends, was desirable enough.

After brushing her hair, she would slip into a pair of sheer, lacy panties, the kind easily seen through. Then, without giving a thought to a bra, she would put on a blouse, leave the top three buttons open, exposing the creamy valley between her flawless breasts. Next came a miniskirt, a very short miniskirt. She would examine herself in the wall mirror, maybe stick small pearl or diamond earrings into the tiny holes at the lobes. With her copper hair flowing past her shoulders, her dark eyes peering back at her with a steaming expression in them, she would stick her tongue out at her reflection and say aloud: "You're going to get fucked tonight, baby."

The very thought of having a hard prick sliding in between her thighs and rapping at the hairy slit of her pussy would send shivers of delight racing up and down her spine.

Satisfied with her appearance, she would lock her apartment and skip happily to her small sports car. Then she would drive swiftly to the town ten or so miles away. That town was small, but intimate. She was known there as a free-living girl who would do anything with a man, take whatever pleasure he had to offer her, give as well as receive. None of the men she knew in the town had any idea she was a college student. Indeed, they didn't know where she lived, not did they give a damn.

She was a hot piece of ass for them, and that was all that mattered. Julie thought she had fucked at the very least half of the male population of that town. Often enough, she would be screwed three and four times in a single afternoon or night, and still she wanted more.

Julie always wanted more.

In her apartment, if she did not go out, she would frequently walk about naked, fondling herself, finishing the evening by masturbating. Going naked in her apartment had created some humorous and sometimes dangerous situations for her. Boys and girls were forever dropping in to see her, and not a few times she had to scramble into anything handy.

But in a way, Julie didn't mind that. The aspect of being caught in her other personality was quite exciting to her.

Now, speeding down the highway in the warm May sun, her miniskirt hiked up over her thighs, she was humming gaily to herself. The radio was on, dialed to a good rock station, and she twisted now and then on the seat. It was not quite noon, and she hoped to get far down the highway before stopping for lunch.

Home was four hundred miles away, a good seven or eight hours driving at the least. She had been on the road now for two of those hours. Off to her right were the blue waters of the Pacific Ocean; on her left the tree-shrouded hills. Since it was midweek, there was very little traffic. As she drove, she thought of the coming summer months.

Being home would not bother her sexual nature. Santa Barbara was a big enough place to continue her sexual indulgences without injury to her reputation. She would be able to see men without her mother's knowledge. Tourists and vacationers abounded in Santa Barbara during the warm summers. It would be easy enough for a girl with her beauty to find exciting adventures.

Julie's preference in men wasn't strong. She liked for them to be attractive, but it wasn't her sole requirement in a man. In fact, the only requirement she had was a hard, thick cock, and a willingness to play her games. And since most men had thick cocks that would easily enough become hard, there wasn't a problem at all. And, too, most were quite willing to play with her. Single or married made no difference to her. She didn't care if a man was cheating on his wife, as long as she was taking the wife's place.

Glancing at the fuel gauge, she noticed there was hardly a quarter of a tank left. She could drive for another sixty or so miles, but Julie didn't want to chance it.

Seeing the service station down the highway, she slowed the small car.

There were no other buildings around the station. It had been set on the right. side of the highway for one purpose only; to fuel the cars that came by, to beat the competition of other stations five miles down the highway in the town.

She pulled into the pumps and cut the engine. It was a modern station, with bright blue and white colors. The builders had landscaped it to blend in with the surrounding area.