A friend of mine claimed that none of his stories have happy endings. These are for you, Rob.
A Dangerous Combination of Sexy and Psycho
Rob pulled onto I-10 out of Phoenix, trimmed all the settings, and sat back to relax. The truck would basically drive itself for the next hundred miles. He had the windows open a few inches; the warm morning air felt great after his trek across the frigid Midwest. CJ's nose was out the window on the other side, the dog looking as relaxed as Rob felt.
The midmorning traffic was pretty light once he got well away from the city. He'd gotten going early because rush hour could be hell if you got caught in it. He caught a glimpse of a car coming up fast behind him in his side mirror. He couldn't blame them; he'd have a hard time keeping the Mustang soft-top they drove under a hundred on a straight open road like this. But when the car caught up with him, they slowed down to pace him. She slowed down. And she was a pretty, young thing. She sparkled a dazzling smile at him. He smiled right back.
This sort of thing wasn't unheard of. 'Heard of' being the operative phrase, it had never actually happened to him before. Some women really liked to be admired, to get that self-esteem boost of a nameless man ogling you from a safe distance. The kind of woman that drove a convertible, though calling her a woman may have been a stretch. Rob had underwear that was likely older than she was.
She was basking in his admiration of her, smiling and giving him a number of cute poses. And then, to his utter shock, she put a foot on the dash and pulled up her dress, showing him tiny white panties with red trim and dots all over them. The look he gave he must have been what she wanted, because she flashed him that great smile again before licking her fingers and sliding them under the little V of cloth between her legs. She closed her eyes and started really going at it, then opened them with a start and steered the car back into its lane. She was laughing. She took the hand from between her legs and used it to pull the strap of her sun dress down to expose a small but perfectly shaped tit. She squeezed it and tugged on her nipple while making kissing faces at him.
She then made a circle with her thumb and fingers, moving it up and down and nodding at him encouragingly. "What the hell." It wasn't like he hadn't been thinking about it anyway. He checked the road as he reached into his sweatpants. They still had it mostly to themselves. He was already halfway there, he realized as he touched his cock. He looked down to find her filming him with her phone. He wondered if this was a dare, getting a trucker to masturbate for you. But then she turned the phone on herself and recorded a repeat of the show she'd given him, even adding a selfie stick for some wider-angle shots. Rob wondered if the show was over when she put the phone down, but she half stood and pointed at an upcoming exit. She wanted him to follow her.
This seemed like a bad idea to Rob. He'd end up in a shallow grave while his truck and its contents ended up in the hands of the local cartel. Everyone seemed to think he was too suspicious, but if experience served, the opposite was true. He did know this exit, however. There was a huge DC around a bluff to the north where the freight headed for California got transferred onto smaller trucks. He and CJ had discovered a nice, seclude spot in the shade of the huge uprising of earth. "Follow me," he shouted. She shrugged, smiled, and nodded. He was actually surprised when she took the exit after him.
This was surely some kind of shakedown. She was way to pretty to be a prostitute, and he found that his curiosity plus the state she'd put him in made not finding out what she was after impossible. And maybe, just maybe, he would get to touch her.
He found the spot he was looking for with no trouble, the girl's car sliding to a stop on the gravel nearby. Part of what he liked about this spot was the lack of parking. There was barely room for his truck, so he could walk and play with CJ without getting hassled. Whatever this thing with Mustang Girl was, it would be just the two of them.
She got out of her car and bounced over to him, clearly on some kind of adrenaline high. She squealed, throwing her arms around him, and said, "You're perfect!" Then stepped back and offered her hand. "I'm VictoriaPark21. Call me Ria or Victoria, but not Vicky, because I hate that."
Despite the unusual name, his hand came up to shake hers. "Rob." He probably should have used a fake name, but he already felt the jaws of the catastrophe that had hounded his life closing in. His doom was inevitable, he was just here to find out what form it would take this time.
"Finish this for me," she said, holding out a black can of Bang toward him. He was thirsty and feeling tired from his early morning, so he took it and downed it. Honestly, any time he wasn't tired, he was probably asleep.
The flavor was off. She had drugged him. "Great," he thought. He just hoped she wasn't some kind of teen serial killer. "What was in the drink?" he asked, resigned.
She giggled. The she bit her lip, her left foot rotating back and forth on her toes. "Like, four Viagra. Because you're going to need it." She laughed and clapped. "Let's get some staging shots first."
She got out the selfie stick and posed with him by the cab. They gave the camera the bird, their middle fingers extended in front of various faces, from pouty to corny. She took like a dozen with her hanging on him, kissing his cheek.
"Here, grab my boob for the next one."
He hesitated. "What are you going to do with these pictures?"
"Oh, don't worry, I set up a filter for you, see?" She showed him the latest shot. Unlike real life, the man in the picture wore a John Deer cap and nerd glasses. It basically looked like Rob when he wore a cap and glasses. The erection he'd been sporting for at least ten minutes felt like something he could use to drive nails, so he decided the disguise was good enough. "Ok, now I want you to finger me, but hold your hand like you're still flipping of the camera."
It took a bit of arranging to get the shot right. She wanted the truck in the background and wanted Rob visible without interfering with the angle. She held her dress up, showing off the panties he now noted were dotted with small hearts. He pulled them to the side and, extending his middle finger, rubbed it back and forth across the glossy looking pink bud that he'd exposed. She squirmed and started breathing quickly. "Stop that. It feels really good. In and out, like you're fucking me with it."
He'd have preferred to continue what he was doing, but he'd give the lady what she wanted. "Should we take these panties off?"
She felt tight around his finger and the change had done very little for her composure. "No," she panted, "The panties are important. He gave them to me for Valentine's Day."
His hand froze, his finger buried in her to the second knuckle. "He?"
"Yeah, hold like that. It looks totally hot." Then, in answer to his question, "My boyfriend. I told him that if he didn't put a ring on my finger by Christmas, I'd find a smelly old trucker and fuck him online. Then, when that didn't happen, I decided to give him until Valentine's. That's still romantic, right? But, are you kidding me, fucking lingerie?" She looked down at him, misreading the look of dismay there. "Oh, darlin', I don't mean you actually smell all that bad. But he doesn't need to know that, right?"
So, he was probably going to die anyway. He looked at his finger, still lodged in the girl. He wiggled it experimentally. She gasped. "Ok," she said between breaths, "let's move on," she let out a frustrated squeak, "to oral." He reluctantly pulled out his finger with a little popping noise. She smiled with delight. "That was aces. Let me check." She pulled her phone in close and fiddled with it until her heard the popping noise again. "Yes!" She played it three more times. "That's fantastic. I'm tweeting that out right now. Do you mind spitting out your Scoal? That stuff is unkind to my lady parts."
Rob shook his head. "I'm not dipping."
She looked up from her phone, confused. Then he saw a light come on behind her eyes. "Oh. Well, Copenhagen is no problem, of course." He decided not to correct her further, preferring to lower his mouth to the pink gash a few inches in front of his face. His mouth watered with anticipation of the rarely tasted but never forgotten slightly acrid taste of pussy. She didn't have it. She had little taste at all. It was like kissing her. He drove his tongue hungrily between the folds of her slit, finding just a hint of what he'd expected at the deepest reach of his tongue. He could eat this pussy all day. Just this little taste was worth the tire iron that would undoubtedly cave in his skull in the near future.
"Rob." He ignored her plea, running his tongue over her like a tom-cat cleaning his coat. "Rob, dammit," she grunted, "I need more than the back of your head in the frame."
He didn't really want to stop, but he had an idea that should make this more fun. "Oh, sorry. You taste amazing, by the way."
"Thank you," she smiled down at him.
"Hey, let me borrow your other hand. It should help me stay out of the way better." She complied. He guided her to hold the panties out of the way and pull up and out with a pair of fingers, exposing the shiny pink bead of her clit to the air. "Ok, does it look better when I do this?" She watched through her phone as he flicked his tongue rapidly up and down on her. "Or this?" He circled her button with the tip several times. "Or maybe back and forth?" He tugged her sideways, taking care to push hard enough that her clit snapped back into position sharply when released.
"I-," she stuttered. "I-," Rob wasn't sure he'd ever robbed a woman of her ability to speak before.
He noticed her phone drifting off target. He pulled it in and positioned it for a closeup. "So, first one..." he repeated the cycle, getting nothing but guttural failures at a response from her. When he finished, her legs were shaking and her breath was completely ragged. The hand holding her hood back was straining even harder, if anything. She was ready. "Or maybe I should just suck on it." He closed his mouth over her, sucking hard. He slipped two fingers inside her. They went in easy enough, but he was still very away of her tightness, the fingers nearly immobilized. He curled them toward his mouth, pressing her from both sides. She came, a wonderful cross between her joyful laugh and a high-pitched squeak erupting from her mouth. She thrashed around, almost sliding off the fender she'd perched on. A sweep of her hips nearly dislocated his finger as she rocked forward against his hand. When he'd finally removed himself from immediate danger, he looked up expecting to see the worship he'd so obviously earned.
She was mad. Or sad. Possibly both. "What's the matter?"