Good Samaritan

 Friday nights are, or at least should be, a chance for cheap romantic encounters.  Things rarely work out quite that well, though.  On this night, leaving the nightclub alone once again, you head towards the parking lot with the intention of driving home.  Your attention is drawn to a slender figure lying curled on a nearby bench.  You sneak a little closer, soon realizing that it is not some homeless person taking a nap, but rather a fit young woman.

   She looks nearly half asleep, reeking strongly of drink.  She is wearing a pair of blue cotton track pants, a light sweatshirt and sneakers.  It’s hardly the most common garb to go clubbing in, which makes you curious as to her story.

   She is not what you might consider classically pretty, but then she’s hardly at her best right now.  Her light brown hair is tied back in a long loose ponytail.  As a single guy, you find the most attractive aspect of this stranger to be her tight, very athletic figure.

   Hoping not to startle her, you gently shake her shoulder, asking if she's all right.  It takes a few moments for her eyes to focus, finally roused enough to answer your questions.

   "I'm Miki," she tells you.  "I, uh, kinda got left behind."

   You have a hard time getting a really coherent story from her, but it is clear that she is stranded.  You definitely hate the thought of leaving her out here downtown overnight, so you do the right thing and offer her a ride home.

   Miki nods, and you help her to her feet.  By the time you get her to your car, you finally manage to get an address from her.  It's not especially close, but you've pretty much committed yourself at this point.

   Helping Miki into the passenger seat, you get behind the wheel and pull out of the parking lot.  Soothed by the motion of the car as you drive out of the downtown core, her eyes droop, and she slouches towards you.  She has no apparent fear of being in a stranger’s car, which means Miki is either very trusting or very drunk, and most likely both.

  Though you pay stern attention to the road, you steal glances at her from time to time.  She looks like she might fall asleep at first, but in fact her languid eyes are locked onto you.  She smiles, biting her lip in secret thoughts.

   "You're so nice," she murmurs.  "You look nice too.  Guys can be such jerks, but you're nice to me.  I like that."

   She reaches over to pat your leg, but her impaired aim lands her open palm right into your lap.  She giggles at her mistake, but doesn't move her hand away.

   "You wouldn't take advantage of me, now would you?" she asks, pressing down to better feel your bulge through your pants.  Against your will, your prick quickly responds to her vulgar touch.