Jades First Gangbang: A Memoir

Cumsters

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The old coastal highway unfurled like a faded gray ribbon, its cracked asphalt shimmering under the relentless afternoon sun. On either side, rolling dunes of pale sand were crowned with tufts of hardy beach grass, swaying in a rhythmic, salty breeze. The air itself was thick with the briny perfume of the sea, a scent that promised both freedom and forgotten histories. My aging convertible, a relic of a more optimistic era, hummed a steady, mechanical tune as it ate up the miles. Far in the distance, where the sky met the earth, towering thunderheads began to assemble, their dark underbellies hinting at a coming change in the weather. I drove with no particular destination in mind, simply savoring the feeling of movement and the vast, open solitude. A lone seagull circled high overhead, its mournful cry a stark counterpoint to the engine's reliable purr. Each abandoned farmhouse I passed, with its sagging porch and vacant windows, seemed to hold a silent story within its weathered walls. The journey itself was the purpose, a temporary escape from the crowded, noisy confines of the city. For a few precious hours, there was only the road, the horizon, and the quiet anticipation of what lay around the next gentle curve.