I picked up a HitchHiker, Part 2

Only Once have I ever Picked-up A Hitchhiker:

This is the second-part of The One and Only time I ever picked-up a Hitchhiker. To fully grasp all that has happened to get to this point, please read the first part. You are welcome to read only this part… your choice, but you will not grasp all the importance of these events…

~~~~~ A Word of caution about the following events described in this post:Some people may find this to be a VERY disturbing writing. Just the feelings that came to me, and reminded me of this time in my life are extremely difficult to allow to surface again. Beginning to blog, just over a year ago was an Incredibly hard decision. The idea that I was actually going to allow myself to relive the events that have shaped so much of my life was therapeutic. The idea that I would finally put these into writing was hard to grasp. The idea that I would actually allow another to be able to see some of what I have kept a secret for most of my life is even more difficult. Why, you might ask, am I writing these events? And more importantly, Why would I allow them to be public? Simple: Some of the greatest help I have received in dealing with my own struggles is that which came from someone who had also been through a similar situation. Finding one person who can relate, and make you understand that things happen, and those things are what makes us into the person we later become, it all it takes to plant the seed of hope. I have been given that courtesy by others, and I have also given that hope to others. By choosing to actually find the words to put into writing, and make it available for anyone who might need that connection, understanding, or support, Then That Is Why I write my life’s events, and allow them to be viewed by others.

In No way would I want someone to begin reading this without knowing it confronts and deals with subjects many are not comfortable reading about. Just searching to put the feelings into words is an emotional roller coaster. Writing about the struggles, fears, shame, and imprisonment often heaped upon victims of sexual molestation, victims of rape, and victims of anything that would make people feel insecure, dirty, or even ashamed of their own body, the naked body, normal functions of the body, or anything that would normally be seen as sexual is one of difficulty. These topics are also often forbidden in society, so it makes it even harder to write about them without being too offensive, or even considered too graphic.

Often, just allowing anyone to even know what I have been through is embarrassing, and could be humiliating. People are mean, and often just allowing myself to be vulnerable by sharing what I feel, what I’ve battled, and how I view things is a hard choice. Fear is crippling. But Freedom is far greater. I strive for freedom daily. Sometimes, just allowing some “secret” part of my life to finally be released takes away the self-imposed (or often society-imposed) imprisonment.

The following events involving the picking up of a hitchhiker made me confront and deal with topics I wished did not exist. I hate more than anything in this world that people will harm another. It is amazing, though, how by allowing yourself to help another when they are in need, you often are shown how to deal with your own fears, insecurities, and overcome some of your own greatest barriers in life. It makes me wonder: Did God Place the hitchhiker in my path to help her, Or To help Me? While the underlying causes of the events below are horrific, Know I will not take you to that place. I will show you how those events took many people, myself included, to one of The most Positive, Most Rewarding places One could ever hope for. Good Truly does come from what is thought to be bad.

This event, involving the hitchhiker Does in Fact cover some Very Graphic, Very horrific feelings. Be warned, and know I discuss Rape, Molestation, and so many other Topics which are Some of The Most Difficult to confront in life. (At least for me, they are difficult.) If you Read Further, Know You Will read details about The human anatomy (yes, My own, and others, too), reactions (often considered to be sexual by many, but NOT intended that way by me), and some Very Private, Very Personal  Issues. I do not wish to discourage anyone from reading, learning, and understanding, But I DO Want to Be sure You Understand the content may be offensive. Please, As You Read Further, Enter With an Open Mind… Or With Closed Eyes. ~~~~~ (Enough about cautions, let’s get back to the event of The Hitchhiker!)  

I crashed-out in a solid sleep almost as soon as I laid down. I did not bother to put any clothes on for sleep this time. This was not the way I normally slept.  At this point, I had only slept naked occasionally, but not often, and was not used to sleeping naked… especially with a girl in the apartment, where I might have a reaction, or somehow cause alarm. I also was cautious usually about if anyone might walk-in with my door always unlocked, and not ever wanting to allow those I knew to ever see me naked. But this night was different. I was not concerned about naked one bit. I thought I would be up, showered, go get my laundry, and be dressed before anyone else in the building was up, and also before I woke up Laura. I figured the girls would transfer my clothes to the dryers, then leave them there for me to gather in the morning. I figured I would be dressed, and have Laura’s clothes next to her bed so when I woke her, she would feel comfortable, and not exposed. I was not worried, and surprisingly comfortable and relaxed about sleeping naked this time. I had not felt this comfortable sleeping naked since I was a kid at Gramma’s house. It was a good feeling.

Oh, did I ever sleep solid! Nothing could have disturbed me. When my alarm went off, I realized I was not alone, was naked, had another naked hum laying on top of me, and was being held intimately close by another human. (And I could tell this human and myself were Very …shall we say… Close!)  I was groggy, and not yet awake enough to grasp all this. It was so seldom that I ever had another person in my bed, that it took me a moment to clear the fog from my mind, and really figure it out. It also took me a moment to grasp that I was on the living room floor, and not in my bed. That is when I recalled what had occurred the night before, and that Laura must have awakened during the night, and come to join me while I slept. I also could smell that she had showered, plus brushed her teeth, too. I could feel her face just inches from mine, watching me come to life, but that too was not a bad thing. As I focused my eyes, and looked at the face barely inches from my own, sure enough the face right next to mine and the arms that were wrapped around me, and the rest of the body that was almost-one with mine were attached to her. I was trying to grasp why I was waking up naked, and intimately close to someone I did not know. Laura was there, smiling, holding me close with both arms wrapped comfortably around me, and watching me wake up. I could feel she was naked, too. To say I was bit confused would be an understatement. She was definitely more awake than I was, and could see my fogged-brain attempting to make sense of this. She waited until I registered it was her, and saw me smile, then gave me a kiss. It was not a kiss as in wanting romance, or attempting anything else. It was a kiss of gratitude, trust, and thanks. This too was new for me. Seldom have I been kissed by anyone who was not seeking more, (it took me back to when I was a kid, and the best-friend I had then!) It was wonderful! She did not say a word, just smiled and held me as I slowly got my brain in gear. Her smile, the way she held me, and the kiss said more than any words possibly could have!

She watched as my fogged-brain slowly got into gear. She ran her fingers gently across my face, seeming to want to memorize every feature. Her touch, and the way she traced my features felt like this was already comfortable and familiar to her, almost as if she had done this before. I sensed that she may have touched me while I was sleeping, and she was so safe, (plus The fact that I was zonked-out) that she did not disturb me, or set off any of my ‘alarms’, by entering my safe-zone, told me all was safe and good. I have learned to trust what presents itself in a safe manner, even if it is new to me. Her touch also felt as if she was not simply touching me, but wanting to feel what I felt from the inside, understand, and grasp the energy, and spirit within me. As I woke, I realized even more to my horror, I had gone to sleep naked, and noticed I had awakened with ‘morning wood’ and not only could she feel every bit of it, but also that she was in a position that I could feel every bit of her! Even with what had happened with the girls downstairs last night, at this point in my life, the last thing I ever wanted was for anyone to Ever see (or feel!) it! I was mortified. I almost freaked-out, and got some space between us. But in the seconds I was coming alert and grasping all that I was feeling, I noticed she was definitely completely aware of my reaction, and not only welcomed it, but seemed to ‘embrace’ it. I knew instantly that This time, it was not shameful, or anything I should be mortified about, even Knew this was a completely good thing right now. This was confusing to me, but I accepted it, even wondered if I could just enjoy it. She had managed to make me more comfortable than almost any person I’d ever allowed to notice, see, or especially feel such a reaction. (The exception would be the ones I grew up with, and was close with as a child, but none since the age of 12.) The way she had positioned herself against me made it so I was, shall we say, umm… literally I could have been having sex with her! (but she showed me without doing anything more, that it was in no way intended as sexual.) She was not in any way harming me, nor doing anything offensive. She was not taking advantage of me in any way, and certainly not doing anything that I would later wish she had not. I was conflicted, yet knew I needed to not freak out. I was not inside of her, but was perfectly aligned between the folds of her Vulva. I also could feel that she had shaved while in the shower. She did a good job, and was not stubbly, but very smooth. I also could tell that she had reapplied powder to herself, plus applied some to me so there was no roughness between us, especially against her tenderness in and around her vagina. She was not rubbing in any way, just snug against me so we each were fit nicely together. I also could feel that the energy from her vagina was not in any way that of desiring sex. I cherished this feeling, and energy. I understood exactly what she desired, and how my penis against her like this was healthy. I felt Very humbled that I could be the one she chose, and was beyond happy to the deepest part of my soul that We could help each other. She was watching my face, and seemed to know what I was realizing. As she noticed what I was feeling, she pressed herself closer (I had thought we were as close as could be, but she pressed those parts closer…, more umm, wrapped, more snugly fitting, and even so I could feel more of her, umm shall we say ‘warmth and tenderness’?), so as to assure me that it was in fact intentional for her to be where she could feel so much of me like this, and likewise so I could feel that her swelling had gone down, and she was welcoming this contact in a soothing, comforting kind of way. I was not accustomed to having someone umm, be so intimate with me like this. I could tell she was not trying to sneakily get me inside of her, but rather to hold as close as possible. To allow us each to feel a positive energy from sources we each usually were repulsed by. She had carefully aligned my penis so I in no way entered her, although it would have been easy to shift slightly by either of us, and simply have that happen. I understood how she purposely placed us so close, yet she understood I would not make it go further. After the way I helped ease her discomfort last night, she knew I would in no way do her wrong when I simply could at that moment. Yet she wanted to feel every bit as was possible in this way.

She started crying, but not a sad cry. She was crying a happy cry, yet also a bit from pain, too. I could tell she was still very sore, and tender down there, and when she pressed herself closer, she winced a bit, even flinching, almost pausing down there before she accepted the pain, and welcomed the 'embrace' as she so delicately made it happen. (For me, describing Any of this is extremely difficult, and even often mortifying. Just the mention, or thought of mentioning my own reaction is often something that is extremely difficult for me to allow myself to accept. It is hard, for me, to describe without getting too graphic, or even mentioning some of my own mortification.) She winced, and flinched every time she felt my ....umm... 'pulsing, or... umm... let's say 'throbbing'. (Man, That was hard for me to say!) But I understood the significance of her 'embracing' in this manner. It was good for both of us, and for equally meaningful ways to cope, heal, and move forward. 

She softly told me everything that was going through her mind: (of course, I am paraphrasing, because I likely do not recall every word she said verbatim.)

“Thank you. Last night, you made me feel so special. Before I met you, I swore I could never find any good in any man, or any penis ever again. I was scared when you backed-up, but I knew You were the one I needed to allow myself to be seen by. Dozens of other drivers slowed, and looked similar to how you did, but they could not see me, and proceeded onto the freeway. When you first looked at me, I knew you were going to stop. I froze, and got nervous, but did not flee. Then you shined your light my way, and still did not see me. Only once you backed-up, and I looked right at you, could you see me. Then I knew. I knew you would not hurt me, and actually would understand, and help me. But I was not sure what I was supposed to do. So I just asked God to have you lead the way. You must have asked Him for the same, because you did exactly that, and I never once felt scared.”

“When you pulled off the freeway under the overpass, My first instinct was to be afraid, but I knew I was safe. I did not know what you were going to do, but you knew how to explain, and help me. I saw you, too, were scared to be seen naked. I was terrified when you first got naked, but I still knew this was just programmed fears every time I ever saw a penis. But I saw you were shaved down there, and immediately thought you were some sort of sexual pervert, yet I knew this was not true. I had never before seen a shaved man. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. Yet, I also knew you were in no way like any other I had ever met. I knew I could trust you. Then I watched you. You never once got aroused, or looked at me like others with a penis would have. Then when you even offered to turn off all the lights so as to not make me so visible when you removed my wet clothes, I knew you understood.”

“ You thought I was shivering from cold, but I was trembling with fear. Yes, I was cold, too, but the fear outweighed any feeling of cold. You made sure to not feed that fear. I watched your eyes as you undressed me. You never once looked at me like I was something for you to get your jollies with at my expense. I knew you could tell what had happened to me, but you never acted like I was the freak, or should be ashamed. Then when you went to towel me off, I looked again at your penis. You still were not aroused. I kept staring because it looked so strange without hair, but I did not want to have you notice me staring, or to make you uncomfortable. I almost smiled, because it was so unusual, and so were you. You were not aroused, even still. I waited and watched. I watched your hands and your eyes as you toweled me off. When you reached to hug me, I actually felt comfort with your penis being right in front of me. Then as you hugged and explained, I could feel your penis against me, and I did not mind. Then when you removed my top, and your penis was between my boobs, I actually felt a positive energy from it. I was certain with your penis rubbing my boobs, you would arouse, yet you did not even look at me like I was naked.”

“You Showed me from the very first moment you understood, and also that you could feel more in the dark about a person than could be seen by vision, or the normal sense of touch. I was still trembling, because I knew you would be able to ‘feel’ the wrong that had been done to me down there. Yet, I allowed myself to move my covering towel so you could continue. I was not worried that you would know. In watching your eyes, and feeling how you moved, I felt that you could feel it, yet you did not once look like I was dirty, look horrified.”

“Your touch and care made me accept and welcome your willingness to sooth me in that way. The first moment you began to clean my butt, I felt relief. Then when you moved forward, Oh it hurt so much! I wanted to kick you for even beginning to dry me there! I thought I never wanted it touched, ever again. I did flinch when it hurt so bad when you toweled me off there, and you wanted to stop, so you would not hurt me. Then when you held that towel so firmly against me, I thought I would scream from the pain, yet you knew, and I could tell you knew how to help me. I could feel you releasing all the tension. Then even more when you pushed that towel inside, and held the pressure. I would have thought any touch, especially a firm pressure would be horrific, but you knew. You released the built-up tension, you took all the bad energy and got rid of it. Then you gently cleaned me in a way that was the most delicate I had ever experienced. I thought that, too would be horribly painful, but the contrast of the cool wet cleansing wipes and your warm fingers inside me were a new level of comfort, and even more release of the bad energy.”

“Again, I was amazed that a touch from any man could be welcomed, and even comforting. I forgot about the pain. I welcomed your gentle cleaning, and even allowed the warmth of your fingers to give me warmth. I felt every bit where your fingers touched me inside. It hurt. It also helped. Your touches in there seemed to fill me with a warm, positive energy that made the negative feeling flee. Your touches were not like any form of groping, or to see what you could feel. Your touches were safe. You gave me hope. You took away my fears. I was for that moment able to forget all the horrors.”

“I finally was allowed to sleep. I cannot remember the last time I actually could let myself relax and actually sleep. You gave me safety. I did not have to worry where you would take me, or what would happen. I was just finally allowed to sleep. When I woke up earlier this morning, I was not sure where I was, I was naked, but knew I was safe. Then I felt the baby powder down there, and was so happy that you had taken such good care of me, and taken away so much of my suffering. I did not feel vulnerable getting out of the bed naked. I did not even first look around to see where I was, or who was near. I knew I was safe. I used the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door, feeling a freedom I had never before felt. I showered, then saw you had even placed a toothbrush out for me!”

“I went to go climb back in bed, but decided to look around a bit. I saw that you had placed me in your own bed, then made a separate bed for yourself. You truly made sure I was not threatened in any way. You understood how bad it would be for me to wake next to a man in a strange bed. I saw that you, also were sleeping soundly, and felt completely safe. You did not even stir, or wake when I used the bathroom, or stood looking at you. I saw a stack of folded clothes and blankets by the front door, and saw my clothes were washed and folded there also. I was tempted to put my clothes on and flee before you woke, but I knew I was safe, and should stay. I also noticed you left your front door unlocked, so I knew you were safe. I opened the door and looked into the corridor. It also felt safe, even with me standing in the opening naked. I knew you and your home were where I needed to stay until you were ready to have me leave.”

“Normally, I would be terrified any time I saw a naked man. But with you, I hoped you still were, so I lifted your covers to see. I found myself smiling, instead of terrified to see your penis. Then I smiled more when I recalled how I first felt when I saw it last night. I watched your penis for a while, and felt safe, happy. Your penis was the first I had ever seen that did not harm me. I knelt beside you and placed my hand on your thigh, right next to your penis, just like you had let me do last night. You knew how to allow me to find my own level of comfort, unforced, unsolicited. I remembered how shocked I was when I accidentally touched it last night, but then realized how it also did not feel bad. I screwed up the courage to allow my hand to move onto it, not grabbing, or stroking it, simply just resting gently on it. I felt the energy you have. I even allowed myself to gently hold your testicles, and was surprised I did not find fear there either. I found I was trembling at first, but also only because of my own fears, not because of you. I was not even worried that I might cause a reaction, but I was very happy to find that I did not. I held you, and even traced the edges of it for a moment more, just gently allowing myself to touch a safe penis. You did not react at my touches. I covered you up again, and returned to the bed in your room.”

“After a moment, I decided instead to come and join you. I grabbed the bottle of baby powder. I did not even hesitate to be naked, and climb in next to a naked man. This, too, surprised me, because I swore I could never be near a man or especially a penis ever again. I powdered you, and allowed myself to touch more freely what otherwise would horrify me. You did not wake, but now my touches aroused you, and I was actually happy about that, not afraid. I had not intended to cause arousal, but found I was pleased when it happened. Even your penis has wonderful energy. It is not an aroused, sexual energy, but an energy no words can describe. I was happy to have you aroused, because I knew that while penises of bad men had caused me pain, your penis could actually help me. For reasons I do not understand, I told myself that allowing your penis to be as close as possible would be good for me. I thought this was the craziest idea I ever had, and tried to talk myself out of it, but something made me feel I needed to embrace this moment. I did not want to in any way violate you, because you were careful to not violate me, and I could tell that you valued that far more than any man ever did.”

“When I showered before joining you, I could not get enough hot water or soap, or enough scrubbing to ever remove the awful feeling down there. Then I saw your razor and shaving cream in the shower. I remembered that you were shaved, and I thought it was odd. Then it hit me. You, too, have been treated wrongly, and while no amount of soap, or water, or scrubbing could ever remove that feeling, removing all the hair might be very cleansing. I imagined how delicate and thorough you would be in taking care of the shaving if you were the one shaving me, and shaved myself in the same way. I have never before shaved down there, only occasionally trimmed, but not even often at that. I cut myself often, not knowing the technique, but I was excited to continue. But the completely smooth feeling does an incredible job at removing the feeling associated with what has happened down there. Feeling cleansed by removing the hair, then feeling you as you got aroused, I knew I needed to embrace that energy, and closeness.”

“I knew you might object, or be embarrassed to have me feel your arousal, since that was not what your intentions were. I also figured out that you had been similarly harmed, and that any unwanted arousal, or touch cold be as bad for you as for me. I knew I could give you the same level of trust and comfort that you provided me. I hoped you would not freak-out before you had a chance to understand what I was doing. I hoped once you woke and realized I was not going to hurt you, you would welcome it.  As you woke, I could first see the way your first reaction was to get away, but I saw also how you quickly felt the same thing I did, and in seconds accepted and welcomed me in this way. Having you like this right now does more positive than any amount of soap, or scrubbing could ever do. The energy you have is very comforting, very healing, and even against my bruises, cuts, and scrapes, the tenderness does not hurt, but instead is comforting, healing, and safe. I feel your penis against my vagina is the most-healthy thing I could have done to move forward. I hoped you would not object. I meant you no harm. I knew it was a risk, and selfish, too, but I felt it was right. Just like you helped me to not feel embarrassed last night, I want to be sure and give the same comfort and trust to you. I was tempted to just feel you for as long as I could until you began to wake, then quickly move away, or leave your bed so you would not know, but I knew you deserved to not only know, but to also feel what I had felt, and you would welcome it, and it would be mutual, instead of just selfish on my part.”

She had let all her worries and thoughts flow. She was happy to have safety and comfort. Now, she just smiled and looked into my eyes. When I first saw those eyes on the freeway ramp, I saw a completely different look, but there was also hope. Now that hope is not a distant vision in those eyes, but a bright feature.

In answer, I wrapped my arms around her, and held her tight. I kissed her in the same way she had kissed me. We both felt the same gratitude, and thanks. She only initially caused alarm and the reaction to be “mortifying”, but I was reacting on pre-programmed fears, much as she had when she saw my penis the first time.

It was rare, but I actually did not wish the reaction to go away. This was strange, too… that I would willingly allow someone to either see, or feel me reacting, and enjoy it myself, too! Also strange was that this reaction was not one where I felt I would orgasm, or in any way like it would lead to the dreaded feeling I get with sex, or an orgasm. I did not know what she had or had not done prior to my waking. But every inch of my entire body felt as if it had been somehow touched with a magic energy. It was not a feeling as if I was just feeling good, or that the closeness and trust caused. It was not a feeling that the kiss(es) caused. It was not even a feeling associated with any reaction, or the closeness of us to embrace that. It was a feeling as if something (someone) had purposely taken the loving time and care to feel, touch, and understand every single inch of my body. It was a feeling that one gets after you have shared a treasured time allowing someone to have the freedom to do as they pleased, when they truly wanted to know everything there was to know, feel, and understand about you. But unless she volunteered what had been done before I woke, I would not make her uncomfortable by asking. I suspected that she had not just traced my face. The feelings I felt in every cell of my body (and not just on the surface of the skin) was that of having been lovingly touched... Deeply felt, and not touched just to feel the skin, but touched to feel the energy that the skin was just a shell for.

To say she knew exactly how to treat me would be an understatement! She could tell I was not interested in sex, but fully understood that sensuality, understanding, and trust were important! She treated me in exactly the same way I had treated her. We did not know one another, but each treated the other with such kindness, respect, and care. It was very wonderful! Her face showed gratitude, appreciation, and peace. She kissed me one more time, again, just showing gratitude, and the safe-feeling. She clearly was not seeking anything more. Her kisses melted me in so many wonderful ways!

I allowed myself to begin moving my fingers along her body. She welcomed my touch. I could feel the new energy she had today, that she did not have last night. Her cells now felt alive, and energized, compared to barely existing last night. Last night her cells felt as if they only were attached, but not alive. This morning, they were very alive, and welcoming. Without separating, or disturbing the closeness she had managed to create, and certainly not wanting to remove my penis and her vulva from the snugness she had wrapped so well together, I traced all that I could of her. I could tell she had done something similar with me before I woke, but I also could tell there was more that I did not know. While last night, she had been wary of any touch but seemed to not flinch when I did, this morning, she seemed eager to have me touch as much as I desired. While I normally would not allow myself to dwell, or even focus on breasts, simply because I normally do not really find them that fascinating, this time was different. As my fingers gently traced, I could also see her own willingness to welcome more. She was showing a welcome to what previously would have been negative touch by other men she had been near, yet finding great comfort in it now. I had to admit, for reasons I did not understand, I actually found it to be … Umm, shall we say ‘Very stimulating’? I also did not mind this time, even welcomed it. Her own responses were very much the same as mine. (For me to even be able to write any of this is baffling to myself. Accepting my own self is often one of my most difficult battles.) We both allowed ourselves to explore freedoms we seldom had...fully, uninhibited.

We both wanted this to continue just like this. But she also was no dummy. She asked what that alarm was set for, implying she knew I needed to get up and get moving for something. I told her my 'plans' for the morning. 

She got up from the bed, teasingly pulling the covers with her. She grinned as now my reaction was, umm... very exposed, and visible. Keeping the mood light and positive, knowing I likely would still not be thrilled to have my reaction viewed, (although I seemed to accept it was very much felt) she made it funny. She offered me a hand, and when I held my hand out, she jokingly said “I was Gonna Grab that Handle! (Pointing at my penis) So she did. She pulled on my hand, And on the “handle” that was seemingly there for that purpose. I appreciated that, and told her “Ah, so that’s the purpose of that thing!” We both laughed, and the lighthearted nature made it so I did not care that I had a visible reaction, nor that her hand was still wrapped around it. 

She asked if she could look closer some more. I gathered from this that she had done plenty of looking while I was asleep. I decided this was a good time, and I was in a good place, too, so it would not make me uncomfortable. I also recognized her need to be able to look at something she thought she could only hate, but instead has found positive, and healing in such an item. She knelt down, so it was at her eye-level. I watched her eyes and was quite satisfied to see what she saw. Her eyes showed that she was not simply looking at a man’s penis, but at something far more important. After “Pulling me up” she had never let go. She had gripped and tugged quite firmly, because she had literally pulled me up like she playfully had suggested, and allowed her tight grip to remain. I found it odd that her holding me so tight was not at all uncomfortable. She applied a firm grip, much the same as I had to her last night. She seemed to find peace in studying how it looked, felt, and ...ummm... throbbed... in her grip. I also was pleasantly accepting of this, and still kinda amazed that I did not mind, or feel uncomfortable. (This, too took me back to the best-friend I had a kid.) It seemed as if now that she had accepted it as not a bad thing, she wished to “hold on” to that feeling, both metaphorically and physically. Now as she looked closely, she allowed her grip to relax. It was almost as if she had “captured” something potentially dangerous, then once she had her face where she could watch, she let it go, to see if it was no longer a danger. She just looked for a few minutes. Watching, looking from every angle, really close, and seeming to inspect it at very close proximity. She reached again, gently to touch with her fingers. She traced every bit of it, much like she had been tracing my face earlier.

I knew without a doubt that she had done this with my entire body, because the feeling left behind after her touch was the same as I described earlier about how my body felt like it had been magically touched. I knew immediately that she had felt every cell on my body, yet was not saying she had. Yes, her touch was very much arousing, and for a second, I wanted to make her stop. But I watched, and let her continue. She was creating a feeling that was unlike any normal arousal, and it was in no way a sexual arousal. I could tell that she was not taking me to place that was sexual, or possibly would lead to my most hated feeling of an orgasm, but she was allowing herself to feel what touch alone cannot feel. She was feeling the spirit, the energy, and all that was within me. She had closed her eyes, and was feeling what was an invisible thing to the sight, yet following with her fingers the energy flowing within each vein. It was very intriguing to watch as she traced and followed every vein that was currently so visible. I could feel what she also was feeling. I watched, and could feel what she felt. I could also see, what she could not, and without her seeing, she would trace a vein that was not in any way raised, or large by any means to have a bump to feel, and allowed her fingers to feel without seeing. I could see where the various colors curved, and she followed them precisely only by touch. She was following the flow of the blood in the veins only by feeling the energy. She continued this in absolute silence and the peace she exuded as she did was incredible.

I could literally see her spirit glowing. As she continued, I was completely carried in with her relaxed safe spirit. While she had created such an arousing feeling, as she continued, it had the exact opposite effect. She continued until there was not an ounce of it in an aroused state. The smile she showed, as she felt the absolute-relaxed state, was once of having conquered the greatest fear she's ever known. She still had not opened her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed my penis, still smiling so proud, confident, and alive. I felt the same. It was incredible to watch this acceptance and trust. Still without opening her eyes, she stood, only inches from me, brushing her breasts barely against me, Leaned in and kissed me one more time, not having ever looked to see where my lips were. And, no… I Did not object one bit that she kissed me immediately after she kissed my penis. It was also funny, since I saw that she had gotten white lips from the baby powder, and then gave me white lips as she kissed me. I knew she would see this once she opened her eyes. She hugged me. When she opened her eyes, I saw a soul that had found peace. It was incredible to have witnessed the transformation from the scared, troubled soul I saw in those eyes last night. I held her tight. I knew she would be alright. She looked at my powdered lips, smiled knowingly, and without a word, she went to use the bathroom. I went to make the coffee.

As soon as I had coffee made, I poured two cups. I went into the bedroom to see if she was still in the bathroom. As I passed the front door, I noticed the girls had indeed finished all the laundry. They had even folded and stacked it all nice and neat, placing it just inside my living room. They had come in while I was sleeping, and not disturbed me one bit. I continued to the bedroom. Laura was sitting on the windowsill, with the curtains wide open, watching the sunrise, still naked, and not caring if anyone could see her. I knew I was in a fog, when I had not even bothered to look outside yet! I handed her the cup, and sat next to her, still fogged. As she turned to face me, she saw my lips were still slightly covered in baby powder, she knowingly smiled again. She laughed , looked at my baby powdered penis, and jokingly asked how I felt about having seemingly kissed my own penis. We both laughed. In answer, I leaned over and returned the favor. I kissed her now bare, but powdered vulva, then kissed her. She, too had white lips now. We both laughed. We both smiled. We both understood how our otherwise repulsion by such things had become a bond between us, and could actually accept and embrace those repulsions. We drank our coffee, naked, not concerned, watching the sunrise in silence. I noticed it was no longer raining, and was actually going to be a sunny, clear day. That made me happy that she would begin the rest of her journey in sunshine, instead of rain. I asked her what she wanted to do from this point. She smiled, and said “Continue to California.” I told her “I think your clothes and shoes are dry and next to the front door.” Her smile broadened. She asked what I meant by the “I think”. She had thought I was the one who folded them and placed them there. So I told her about the neighbor girls who offered to help. I never got a chance to tell her how much they did or did not know, or even about our shared adventures after I put her to bed. I was not going to tell her that they had come and seen her while she slept.

Almost as soon as I had told her about the neighbor girls, and the laundry, my front door opened, and all three girls walked-in. We were in the bedroom, and could not see the front door. Normally, I would have hid my nakedness, but since they had been so comfortable and safe last night, I did not hide this time. Laura grabbed a blanket to cover herself. While she had allowed herself to remain comfortable around me, not feeling the need to hide the bruises or her nakedness, she was not sure about these girls. I half-expected to see them all three still muddy and naked, but they were clean and dressed. I introduced each of them. They were grinning, and it made me wonder what they were up to. They took Laura by the hand to the front door. She looked a bit puzzled, but did not resist. I followed. They opened the door and took Laura into the main corridor. I heard them telling her “These are for you.” Laura dropped her blanket, and hugged each of the girls, again not worried one bit about being seen naked, or allowing her bruises to be visible. Of course, I needed to see what was so exciting. I squeezed between all the girls to see. The commotion got some of the other neighbors to open their doors and peek out. We told them ‘hi’ without covering or offering explanations. They simply greeted us and went back into their apartments.

I knew the girls were up to something for asking to see her size last night while she slept. I had an idea that they might attempt to get a set of clothes Laura could wear, but I really did not expect them to do much more than find a pair of pants and a top. What a Surprise! They had several days’ worth of clothing stacked neatly outside my door! The girls picked up the piles and brought them in for Laura to see and try –on. Laura was not the same size in any way as any of the three girls, but they had gotten clothes that would fit her! The girls even brought bras and panties that were the perfect size and fit for Laura! They had successfully gathered clothes for entire outfits, including two more pair of shoes. They were busy during the night! Laura was speechless, crying joyfully, hugging each girl, and me, too. I told her I had nothing to do with the clothes. She and the other girls insisted I totally was the reason for the clothes. They all insisted that if I had not helped Laura, they would not have had a reason to help her either. The girls insisted Laura hurry up and go shower so she could get dressed and enjoy her new clothes. Laura hugged everyone again and thanked them, then went and showered, to get ready for the new day, and new clothes.

While Laura showered, I decided to make breakfast. I asked the girls if they would like some, too. They all agreed they would. Then they joked about me being naked while making breakfast. They made jokes about “Are we having sausage and buns for breakfast?” They joked about if I would pee out the window if I had to go, or would I use the sink? They teased that I could of course just go pee in the shower while Laura was using it. Usually, I would be mortified at this. The fact that I had openly peed with them and knew they knew more about me than I normally let anyone know was kinda a good thing. Normally there were so few I willingly allowed myself to be seen naked in front of that I knew. Those few who had seen me naked were only for brief moments, and I certainly would not have been naked for extended times around them, especially socially while making breakfast!  But for whatever reason, being naked in front of them was actually comfortable, and felt good. They, too noticed this. This was very healthy for me. 

I had mostly hidden myself for the past 10-years. There were occasionally a few safe people I would not hide myself from, but there had not been many, and certainly not to this extent, where I was freely interacting, and not worried.

As I continued to make breakfast, each of the girls told me how they had previously seen me naked when I had thought nobody could (or thought I might be seen, but thought I had not) see me. One girl’s window faced the area I thought was very concealed outside. This was where I would go late at night and watch the stars. When she would see me go out there, she would go and get the other two, and they all three would watch from her window. This surprised me, and embarrassed me a bit. They saw this, and assured me it was not that they were watching to embarrass me, but to see they joy and freedom I felt while doing it. That made me feel good, even safe in knowing they saw that. (It also reminded me of the time I was twelve and a high school neighbor girl and her friends told me how often they watched me when I thought I was secretly alone, and how happy that made them!) One of the girls had an apartment door that faced mine across the corridor, and she would watch with her door barely ajar when I would go and do my laundry late at night when I thought nobody was looking. She told me how much fun it was to watch me bounce joyously down the corridor feeling my naked freedom, and thinking nobody saw me. As soon as I was down the stairs, she would go down the set of stairs on the other end, and watch from behind the stacks in the basement. She said how much she enjoyed watching the freedom I allowed myself when I was down there. The first time she saw me pee in the floor drain, she had to stifle her laugh. She explained how she thought it was so funny that I found joy in that, and also watched in amazement at my making sure I always aimed perfectly. She said one time she saw me miss, and go find a bucket, fill the bucket with hot water and wash the floor. She told the others about this, so they all started to sneak down and watch, too. They discovered if they were outside, because it was dark out and bright in the basement they could watch me without hiding. By them telling me how much and how often they had watched me, it actually helped me, not scare me off. They proved safe, and comfortable. They told me about other neighbors who watched me regularly, too, and every person thought it was wonderful because I went about it in a way that did not shove nakedness in others’ lives, but instead showed I wanted to enjoy it, but be semi-private about it.

It was strange, yet freeing to allow the girls to be so close, looking, and talking about me in such a positive way. As I continued to make breakfast, they each began to look closer at my body, but not in a way that made me uncomfortable. At first, I noticed they were seeming to "sneak" closer glances. One noticed I had seen another "trying to peek", and giggled. The one who "got caught" was embarrassed. I reached to give her a hug, and tell her it was alright to look, be curious. Another, giggling, asked quite teasingly if "touching was also alright?" She expected me to say 'no'. They were genuinely interested in learning more about me, and I could see that this was a good time, not making me uncomfortable, or feel like I was on display. I also could tell they were not going to be mean in any way to me. I always allowed those who genuinely wanted to learn and understand different aspects about me to do so when it was not done in any kind of mean, or cruel way. For any who treated me with kindness, and respect, I seemed to let all my walls down. One thing I have learned in life is that too many people hide when someone wants to learn about the body. I always valued those who welcomed my curiosities, and in turn would allow others the same freedom.  I told her, "Yes, Touches were OK." She looked slightly embarrassed, even suddenly bashful, but allowed herself to begin to gently touch, and explore. People are curious, and in a safe place, curiosities often lead to touching, feeling, and exploring. The girls were happy to watch, feel, see, and learn how different bits moved, reacted, and changed. I too was interested in allowing these, since I was learning more about myself, too! (keep in mind I was still young, at 22, and had not had much 'experience' like this since the age of 12. They, too were my own age, and seemed also to not have much 'experience' like this.) Funniest of all was when one had cold hands, and discovered how fast cold changes things. (Have no worries, they were quick to warm parts up again.) To have so many touches, and different people all at the same time learning, touching and watching was new for me. In my life, I have had one or two curious touches, or even one or two looking, but to have all these at once, yet it be totally safe was a new venture for me! For me to not wish to hide, or even allow a reaction to remain visible was an incredible step-forward for me! I normally would hide and be mortified any time a reaction happened or was visible. (The oddest part was when I got a reaction, not from any touches to those regions, but rather when one girl was tracing my ribs!) The girl who was touching my ribs when I reacted stopped touching me as soon as she saw the change. I surprised myself by not suddenly wanting to hide it, or cover-up. But after last night, and how safe these girls were, I did not feel I needed to hide it. I actually was happy to not feel I should. Naturally, All eyes were suddenly watching this change. Mine were too. They had seen this last night, but we all knew the situations last night were different. I smiled, then said “I guess you found the switch!... and go figure, the rest of us thought it was down there.” This made us all laugh, and not worry about it. It was funny, because I had not reacted one bit while there were touches down there, yet from her touches to my rib! Then teasing her, I said: “Now you need to figure out how to make it go away”. This made us all laugh. She grinned at this, and said, “Nope. I wanna watch, not get rid of it.” To my surprise, I was OK with it remaining, even being watched, touched… More learning for all of us. Laura came out of the shower, and stood watching these interactions. She smiled, and could tell how safe all this was. The girls looked to Laura to see how comfortable she was with this. She smiled, and confidently said she had done the same for a couple of hours earlier while I had slept. This caught my attention, and she saw the look of curiosity on my face. She smiled, seemingly like she had been caught with a guilty pleasure. Then looked at the girls, then back at me, seeming to see if it was alright to further explain what she meant by her statement. I grinned and told her “Do tell.” Each of the other girls grinned and nodded, noting we all wanted to know what I had slept through.

She proceeded to tell me, (and the girls) how when she woke up in the early morning hours, she was at first disoriented about where she was. …Proceeding to fill the girls in of what she had already told me... She said she looked at the alarm I had set to see what time I would wake up, and knew she had two hours available. Then she continued telling what she had done after she came to my bed. She told how for almost two hours, before I woke, what she had done: She had allowed herself to feel every single inch of my body, trace every bone, every muscle, every vein, and every cell. She wanted to allow herself the freedom to touch a man who had been the only safe man she’d ever been around. She wanted to feel every ounce of my energy, and fill herself with the same. She was thrilled to find that I would react not from her touches to my penis, and testicles, but how I reacted when she touched my face, or my hands, or my feet. She would watch, and trace some more. The first time she caused it she told us she got scared. But when I did not wake, and also when it did not change the way my energy felt, she decided to embrace this otherwise thing she feared. She blushed a bit as she told this. I went and hugged her, and just held her. She looked around and asked if it was safe to tell? We all assured her she could tell us, and it would not be shameful. She looked confident again and continued telling what she had done: She had decided to hold it next to her face. Then as she held it, she began to kiss it. She liked how much this felt like she was thanking me, yet at the same time, she was finding her own strength, and willingness to accept that at least one man could be decent. She not only kissed it, but then kissed every bit of it, making sure to not miss any bit. She was worried that I might get too aroused, and she decided to not focus on it for a little bit. But the kissing made her feel it was better than simply a touch. She said she could feel what felt like little fireworks in every cell each time she kissed on it. She held it in her hand, and just enjoyed feeling it, and the blood flowing in it. She said she had never before actually enjoyed holding one. Then, she decided to start kissing every bit of my body. She wanted to bring those little fireworks to every cell in me, since I had helped her so much, and this also helped her, plus gave back to me.

I dished-up breakfast, and we all ate as she told us more: She proceeded to tell how she kissed every bit of my entire body, and as far as she could kiss down toward the part I was laying on.  She noticed how my reaction would go away, and then come back again. Each time it came back, she would watch to see if I might wake. She said I only smiled, but never moved like I would wake, so she would again place her face next to it and hold, kiss, and grip it. Each time, taking it a bit further, feeling what I was feeling, not wanting to take it too far. After she had done this many times, she knew how far and how much she could do without causing me to be overly stimulated, and cause orgasm. As she told this part, I thanked her. She smiled, and told me she knew it would be bad for me if I woke to an orgasm. I hugged her, and told her I wish more women understood this! She continued telling: She watched as the clock got closer to 5:30. She had made sure to let the reaction go totally away, so I was not anywhere near overly-stimulated. She re-powdered herself, then powdered me, too. She said this made me stir a bit, but not wake. She kissed my body some more to make sure I would remain asleep. The she positioned herself so her vulva was perfectly aligned over my penis. She told how it was completely relaxed at that point, and how fun it was to have a soft penis in between her vulva folds. She laid there, just allowing that to feel so wonderful. Then she began with the touches, and kisses again. She had learned what areas caused more of a reaction than others, and focused on those. She said the feeling of my reaction with it snugly sandwiched, perfectly aligned inside her like that was the absolute most healthy thing she had ever experienced. She had never felt a penis in that way, and it was incredible to embrace it as it happened. That was what I woke to when the alarm went off. Just having her tell it, and how she went about it totally caused me to react again. I did not feel I needed to hide it. We all just smiled.

Watching my reaction occur once more as she told this, she decided to tell me (and of course the girls, too, but she directed it at me) about how it felt when I began to allow myself to touch and explore her. She did not skip any details, and told these with such a sparkle in her eyes! I was amazed even more at how much just her telling these feelings was causing me to react more and more right now!

As we all sat happily, comfortably enjoying what had happened in the past twelve hours, the level of comfort, and safety we all felt was beyond comparison. Then she commented that if I had not stopped to help her last night, I would not be so safe and comfortable today. She was correct. For whatever reason(s), God placed her in my path last night, and also made it so these neighbor girls would be in her path, too.

The neighbor girls then told her what had happened after they saw me come home. They seemed to enjoy that the telling of the events caused me to continue to react even more. I was not used to this! I was, umm… more, umm… let’s just say I had more reaction in this past few hours, and even past hour than I normally had in my life!! But I was not uncomfortable for some reason. I did not mind one bit, and the girls all seemed to enjoy it as much as I was.

The girls suggested I head to the shower (and joked I may need a cold shower!) and they would help Laura try on her clothes. Laura was excited, and kept coming in to show me each item, and how good the girls had done in finding the right size and fit! She of course started with the bras and panties. She was especially thrilled to show me how well her bra and panties fit. I got the impression she had not previously had good-fitting ones, or even flattering ones. It struck me that I did not yet know anything about this girl. I quickly gathered that she was probably very poor, or had never known she could flatter herself, or possibly that the person/ people she was running from were not the type to appreciate her, or ones she would want to feel pretty  and flattering around.

It always amazed me how much more alluring it was to see a woman in bra and panties, when she was proud, happy, and flattered, than it ever was to see her naked. It created a mystery, and for some reason, I always found that to be sexy, yet never saw a naked woman as sexy. To me, viewing a body is not in itself sexual, or even a turn-on. But the opposite is true when in bra and panties… but not always. If I saw someone changing, that was no big deal, or even alluring. Even when a woman was showing/ modeling yet the items were not flattering, or properly fitted, there was nothing exciting about the bra and panties. But to have someone showing, modeling in ones that are flattering, properly fitted, and make her feel special almost always was. It was similar to the girls last night and how they caused me to notice how alluring, even sexy they were. There was something about the presentation, the way a girl stands, even proud to have you look when she is modeling herself like this. That made me happy. (Yes, she definitely caused a reaction, and I was not ashamed of it. She noticed which items caused the reaction, and even commented similarly.)

Then they all came into the bathroom. The girls had brought hair-stuff, and makeup too for Laura. They proceeded to do her hair, and her makeup (only a bit, nothing fancy) while I showered. Good thing I was not mortified to have them all see me!

Once I finished showering, I too went to get my clothes (which were still piled in the front room.)  All four girls jokingly said they needed to help me get dressed, too. I laughed and asked if they were planning to do my makeup, too. We laughed, but it turned out they were not joking. They really wanted to dress me! They were continuing from how safe and open I was allowing this morning to be. I decided to allow them this playfulness. This was weird for me. They of course started with my underwear. I at first thought, ok… no big deal, so they pick out some underwear, and slide it on me. Simple, done! Nope! They each wanted to try a different pair on me. They took much delight in this. I was not sure how to react. The weirdest and most bizarre was that each had a different idea of how I should fit in my underwear. In keeping with the light-spirit and learning, safe atmosphere, I decided to just let them. I gotta say, it was a completely new experience, and weird, too! Never before had anyone ever dressed me, let alone adjust my parts into so many different ways in my underwear! None of these girls had seen me in just underwear, so none had seen how I positioned my parts. (Laura saw me undress the night before under the overpass, but had not taken the time to notice these details.) Also new to me was in having my parts touched so much, yet it be completely safe, and in no way was it uncomfortable. It was definitely a new experience! Once they each had done what they were satisfied with in the underwear, they finally moved onto the shirt, pants, socks, and sweatshirt. Those did not prove any challenge, or even any level of creativity. But over-all the being dressed was quite fun for all of us!

I grabbed a small duffel bag to pack Laura’s new clothes in. She was very happy to ask me to throw her old ones and the shoes in the garbage! I showed the girls where I had some posterboard and markers, so they could make her a sign that would attract the right driver headed to California. I gathered some food and even made a couple of sandwiches for her, gathered toothbrush, toothpaste, the hair stuff, and the makeup, and packed it all in the duffel bag. At the last minute, I thought about grabbing a raincoat. I did not tell her about that, just included it so she would find it later. As I was ready to go for work, I asked again if this is what she wanted to do. (Meaning hitchhike to California.) She looked confident, and said she did. I did not doubt this was the right thing, just wanted to be sure it was what she thought she should do. The three girls walked with us to my truck to say good bye to her. They each dug into their pockets, and altogether handed her about 20-dollars. It was not much, but it might come in handy for her. She did want to take it, insisting they had done enough, but they insisted. She stuffed it in her pocket, then gave each one a tearful goodbye hug, and we drove toward the freeway.

She did not say anything, just smiled confidently as we drove the short-distance. It was a beautiful sunny morning. It felt like the world was happy to see this Laura greet it today, rather than the Laura the world saw last night. I heard her quietly say, “Thank You God.” And her smile, and confidence literally glowed.

I parked as near as I could to the onramp. We each got out. She was crying, but not sad tears. She was very happy. I was too. She hugged me tight for a long moment. Kissed me, thanked me, grabbed her duffel bag, sign, and confidently marched up the onramp. She stopped briefly to look, smile, and wave goodbye. Goodbye Laura. God be with you.

I went to work. Coworkers always liked to hear about my adventures when I went to Portland for a couple of days. This day was the same. Everyone asked if anything exciting happened. I told them about the things that I did with my Mom and sister, and what we did around Portland. I did not tell them about the hitchhiker.

A couple of days later, one coworker who had been off since I had come back, came in and was grinning like she knew something I did not. This was not uncommon. Her husband was a police officer, and often she found out the scoop about something that had happened around town, or to someone we mutually knew, and she always liked to tease me and see if I had found out the same details she had. This day, she asked me if I had anything exciting to tell about my trip to Portland. She was grinning, like there was something she knew, but would not tell me until I spilled-it myself. I cautiously asked her why she asked. She decided to turn it on me, and asked how I felt about picking up hitchhikers. But she already knew how I felt, and knew I Never did. This was something we had discussed at length previously. But I knew she knew something about Laura. She was grinning, so I knew it was not bad, or that anything had happened that involved the police. To safely answer her question, yet not spill too many details, I said, “Under the right circumstances I might pick one up.” She said, “If her name was Laura, would you?” This caught me. I looked at her and said, “spill it!” She was laughing, and I knew she was dying to tell me:

She began to tell me how her husband had found an old pickup in Redding, California he wanted to buy. They decided to go down with his truck and trailer, get it, spend a day relaxing out of town, and then head back with his new toy on his trailer.  They headed out at 8 in the morning the same day I came back to work after being in Portland. (I could see right now where this was going…) I had dropped Laura off at the onramp about 7:45, then was at work by 8. As her and her husband entered the freeway, he grumbled “Another Damned Hitchhiker gonna get themselves killed.”  As they went by, they both noticed this was not a normal-looking hitchhiker. Her husband pulled over near the top of the ramp, and grumbled about “That pretty girl does not belong out here. Something doesn’t fit.” Being the cop, even off-duty, He always stopped if something did not sit well with him. They discussed how clean she looked, and, even noticed she did not have a tattered cardboard sign, but instead a decent, neatly written one on posterboard. They also could tell she was not from here, but then got to wondering how she had gotten here. This was not a typical place out of towners would be for hitchhiking. Usually, they would be two-exits down, where all the truckers came and went, where the other cross-roads met the freeway. They noticed the girl did not run to where they had stopped. They had not stopped to pick her up, and she did not feel she should force herself on whoever had stopped up there. This, too was odd. Normally any hitchhiker will run to any vehicle that has stopped, whether it was intended for them or not. They both got out and walked back to her, hoping to talk her into not hitchhiking. As they approached her, he identified himself as a police officer, even showed his badge, and told her she was not in trouble, nor were they here to harm her. She happily greeted them, and asked what she could do for them. They had not expected that. They talked to her for a bit, then ended up offering her a ride. They at this point still did not know I had a connection at all. Laura had told them she was hoping to go to Redding, because she had friends there. They asked how she got here, and where she came from. She told them “God sent me someone last night.” But they could tell she did not want to say more (yet).  My friend and her Husband both felt they should give her a ride. They asked her if she would like to come with them. She did. The husband, of course being the cop, told Laura he would ask lots of questions, and make sure everything was alright. Laura’s answer: “A Calm, knowing smile, and a confident “It already is alright.”

They drove down to California. As they drove, and asked questions, they began to put the pieces together. Laura was cautious, of course about how much she revealed, but soon could tell these people were totally safe. They were able to get details from her about what she was running from, and even her full name. Laura was happy to tell them, and seemed not to be needing to hide anything. At one rest-stop, the cop husband made a couple of phone calls (and told Laura he would, so as to not deceive her. He had her trust, and did not want to do it any other way.)  to see if Laura had anything that did not check out. Laura was confident, and did not object. They verified she had in fact run from a bad domestic situation. It was her own family who was hurting her like that. They also verified she had called the police many times seeking help, but  never could get true help. She finally fled, only with the clothes she had on, and hoped to find a better life. He verified she was not in any trouble, or wanted by any authorities.

Without Laura ever telling them who had picked her up, she revealed she was picked-up in Wilsonville last night. She also told them she was taken care-of, helped, and given a safe place to stay the night. Then she was given clothes, food, and dropped off on the freeway ramp as the one who picked her up went to work. After Laura told them these little bits of information, both my coworker and her husband smiled, exchanged a knowing look, but did not let-on that they knew who had helped her. They  both knew I had come through Wilsonville that evening, and had gone to work at 8 the next morning. They both knew my nature, and how I loved to help people.

My coworker was giddy about knowing my little secret, and also knew I likely would never tell a soul if it was not brought-up. Now 22 years later, I am feeling the tug to write about such an important day in my life. I mentioned at the very first of this post that I recently met a young lady who reminded me of Laura. Yup… another hitchhiker… but I will write about her in another post… someday. (Maybe 22 years from now?... maybe tomorrow. We’ll see when the inspiration strikes.)

I still wonder to this day If I was The one who was helped, or if She was. Either way, I Know God works in wonderful ways, and I always am glad when I am receptive enough to actually do what was supposed to be done.