Hot And Sticky 2

It was hot as hell when I pulled up to the gas station on my motorcycle. The heavy, protective leathers and full-face helmet I wore made the heat feel even worse, but I believed in riding safely. Besides, it was July in South Carolina; I expected to be hot and sweaty, even if I didn't like it.

The woman I saw sitting on the bench outside the gas station didn't look happy. The large perspiration marks on the front of her sundress and bedraggled hair added to her air of misery. The four-letter words she shouted into her cellphone also made it clear that she was not having a good day.

"Fuck you!" She screamed into her phone. Then she jabbed at the screen ending the call, and drew her arm back, getting ready to send the phone flying. At the last minute, she took a deep breath, ran a grimy hand through her damp hair, and set the phone down beside her. It was a move that clearly required considerable restraint on her part. "Asshole!" She growled and turned toward me. We locked eyes briefly, then she said, "Sorry, no offense, not you."

I shrugged, propped my helmet on the handlebars of my bike, and took hold of the gas pump handle. "No offense taken," I replied. "I know it's not me."

"You're pretty confident, aren't you?" She sounded as mad as a wet hen and looked like one as rivulets of sweat ran down her face.

"Yep. Guess that I am." I finished pumping gas and returned the nozzle to the pump. The woman stared at me. "I'm pretty confident that you're having a bad day."

She smirked, recognizing my sarcasm. Then her shoulders sagged, and I saw some of her billowing anger evaporate. "Yeah, you could say that."

I sat on the edge of my bike's seat, took off my jacket in a vain attempt to cool off a little bit, and raised my eyebrows at her.

The woman accepted my wordless invitation for her to tell me more. "I was on my way to Edisto Beach to spend a week with my boyfriend when my fucking car broke down, right here, in the middle of fucking nowhere. It's July Fourth weekend, and the mechanic says he can't get the fucking part he needs to fix it until next week. So I'm basically stuck here."

"He's the asshole?"

The woman looked horrified for a second, then snorted a little laugh. "God, no. It's not his fault my shitty car broke down or that it's a goddamn holiday."

"Who's the asshole then?"

"The asshole is my fucking boyfriend, or should I say, ex-boyfriend. I asked him to pick me up, and he basically said no."

"What does 'basically' mean?"

She smirked at me again, accepting the way I teased her. "Basically means that he doesn't want to interrupt his precious vacation time to drive two hours away from the beach and rescue his stranded girlfriend."

"You mean ex-girlfriend."

This time a genuine smile crossed her face. "Yep. I'm very much ex." She rolled her shoulders, stretched, and then slumped back against the bench. "That part is no big deal. I was going to dump his ass after this week anyway. I just wanted to enjoy some time at the beach first." She looked directly at me. "What I really hate is that I'm stuck in this shit-hole." She gestured at the empty dirt parking lot and the dust-streaked windows of the gas station garage. "There's nowhere to stay anywhere close by. So it looks like I'll be spending the next few days hanging out on this fucking bench and sleeping on the fucking couch in the back of the fucking garage where the owner is going to let me crash. Showering under a hose," she pointed at a grimy garden hose lying in the dirt, "and eating shitty vending machine food is going to be almost as good as the luxury beach house where the fucking shithead asshole ex is staying."

"How long were you in the Navy?" I asked.

She gaped at me. "What?"

"Based on your elaborate four-letter vocabulary, I figure you must have been in the Navy. I spent four years on a patrol boat and didn't hear obscenity as sophisticated as yours."

She blushed bright red for a second and then glared at me. "Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities. I am who I am without apology, dirty words and all."

I stood up and imitated her stretch, which felt great. "No offense taken. Nobody has ever accused me of having 'delicate sensibilities.' I enjoy dirty words. I just like to space them out a bit, that's all."

She rolled her eyes and then laughed. "I'll definitely take that under advisement."

I opened the saddle bag on my bike and pulled out two water bottles. I uncapped one and tossed the other to her. She snatched it out of the air like she was catching a line drive up the middle. "Thanks." With a quick twist, she opened the bottle and began drinking.

"My pleasure and the least I can do for a fellow aficionado of dirty stuff."

The woman nearly choked on the upturned bottle when I said that. Her eyes were filled with a glint of humor and something else I couldn't identify.

"Listen," I began. "We don't know anything about each other, except that we're both sweating like pigs, and we know how to curse, but I can offer you a place to sleep that's at least safer than this 'shithole.'" I made air quotes with my fingers and waved my hands toward the garage.

She raised her eyebrows at me.

"There's an abandoned farm a couple of miles down the road that way," I pointed back where I'd come from. "I was planning on setting up my tent there. The ground looks soft, there are plenty of shade trees, and I've got an extra sleeping bag. I doubt anyone will complain."

"A tent?"

"Yeah, I just finished a three-day trip shooting in Sumter National Forest and am heading to Savannah for more. I camp as much as I can. It's a lot cheaper than hotels."

"What were you shooting?" She sounded wary.

I chuckled, realizing that I'd probably sounded like a mass murderer "Shooting pictures. I do freelance landscape and architecture photography."

"Oh." She sounded relieved and finished off her water. "You mean you and me in a tent, don't you?" She didn't sound very enthusiastic about my offer.

"Yeah. It's a four-person tent, so there's plenty of room for us to be in opposite corners." I held my sweat-drenched shirt away from my chest. "It's sauna-hot out here, even at night."

"Sounds positively fantastic. How could a girl turn down spending a sweaty night lying on the ground next to a complete stranger?"

"I thought you'd see it that way." I reached for my jacket and turned to remount my bike. Movement caught my eye, and to my surprise, I saw that she'd stood up, grabbed a backpack, and begun walking toward me.

"Do you think I'm afraid of perspiration, getting dirty, or you?"

I handed her the extra helmet I keep and swung onto the bike. She shouldered her pack, pulled on the helmet, and jumped onto the saddle behind me. I looked over my shoulder at her, "None of the above, no fucking way," I answered her rhetorical question.

"Damn, fucking straight," she said with a huge smile.

The sun was low on the horizon when we got to the farm about fifteen minutes later. Despite the wind whipping past us as we rode, we were both dripping wet when I parked the bike and pulled off my helmet. "By the way, I'm Mick," I said, holding out my hand.

"Leah," she said. Her grasp was firm and not at all wimpy. She shook her hair free, and it settled into a wild mass of sodden curls that framed her face. That and her begrimed dress made her look disheveled, to say the least; nonetheless, I found something about her very attractive.

I set up the tent and the rest of our camp with well-practiced efficiency. Dinner was sizzling atop a small fire shortly after the sun set. We drank more water, had a few beers, ate, and chatted about our lives. Despite her ongoing coarse rhetoric, I found that Leah was intelligent, lively, and fun. I let the fire burn down, then completely extinguished it to ensure it wouldn't get out of control even though there was no breeze. "Better get inside," I said and unzipped the mosquito netting. "Don't want to get eaten alive." Leah hesitated for a second before ducking in. Despite her bluster about not being afraid, I wondered if I'd misread her fearlessness. I thought not but laughed to myself that maybe I should be afraid.

It was hot as hell inside the tent. Had I been by myself, I would have stripped naked to try and get a modicum of relief. But I wasn't alone; sweat poured out of me, rolled down my sides, and drenched my jeans and t-shirt. It was miserable.

"Oh my fucking god!" Leah exclaimed from the far side of the tent. "It's like an oven in here."

"More like a jungle," I quipped, wiping the wetness from my face. "An oven is dry heat. This humidity makes it jungle hot."

"And that somehow matters, smartass?"

"Just trying to add a little perspective."

"Well, my perspective is that I'm sweating everywhere. I feel like I'm in a fucking swimming pool."

"Mmmm. A swimming pool. That would be nice. Did you bring a suit?"

"Did you?"

"I'm more the skinny dipping sort." I closed my eyes and tried to imagine floating naked in a pool or lake with chilly water tickling my free-floating balls. "What's the difference between a regular swimming pool and a fucking swimming pool?" I asked.

"The fucking kind are better."

"I'd agree with that." I spread my arms and legs wide away from my body, careful not to touch Leah. Trickles of water ran down my sac, and for a second, I imagined how good it would feel to have a warm tongue lick away that streamlet. "You sound very confident in your assessment." I had to change the subject, or my imagination would result in a hard-on.

"I'm one hundred percent sure that fucking swimming pools are better," Leah said with a contented sigh.

Without thinking, I asked, "Based on...?" An image of her naked and bouncing wildly on top of a guy on a pool deck popped unbidden into my head. Blood rushed into my groin, and my cock stirred. Great, just what I needed. More heat in my crotch.

"Well, it's not from survey data, in case that's what you were thinking." Leah groaned, and I momentarily wondered if she was reliving some sensual pool-side tryst. "It's so hot that my fucking tits are sweating." I opened my mouth to toss out another quip, but she interrupted me, "And don't ask; yes, fucking tits are better than regular tits. And that fact isn't from survey data either."

More blood flowed into my crotch, and I knew there was no way I'd avoid the discomfort of getting a full-blown hard-on inside my snug and damp jeans. I stifled a groan. I had to say something to distract myself, but what I said next didn't really meet that goal. "If you're so hot that your fucking tits are sweating, why don't you just take off your dress and let them have some air?"

Leah said nothing for a second, and I thought I'd probably gone too far. "You're just looking for a pathetic excuse to get your hands on me."

Yep, I'd gone too far and I felt terrible about it. Despite my growing horniness, I really didn't want to be a creep. "Listen, I do not want to get my hands on you," I lied, and the now full-blown erection straining against my jeans emphasized that untruth. I rolled over and turned my back to her.

The silence that filled the tent was deafening. What I heard next surprised me - Leah was crying. I didn't feel like a creep. I felt like an asshole. First, I'd reveled in a fantasy about her. Then, like a stupid horny juvenile, I'd suggested she take her clothes off. What a jerk! I sat up. "Leah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be such an asshole."

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly. "I'm the asshole, not you." I was totally confused. "You're a nice guy. You rescued me and gave me food and a safe place to sleep. You're funny and smart (I like smart.) You aren't put off by how I talk. And you're really cute. A part of me thought that there might be, you know, something between us. But I went and screwed it up."

"Huh?" I was even more confused than I had been a moment ago.

"I said stupid shit about you, called you pathetic. I don't blame you for not wanting anything to do with me."

"Ummm, that's not true."

"I did call you pathetic, and you did say that you didn't want to touch me."

I couldn't help smiling. "Yeah, you called me that, but I did not say that I didn't want to touch you."

"I've got a very good memory," Leah protested with a girlish pout that made her look kind of sexy. "You said, and I quote, 'I do not want to get my hands on you.'" She crossed her arms across her chest and stared at me. Her hard nipples, which I could see poking against her sweat-dampened dress, matched the rock-hard cock in my pants.

I leaned toward her. "I did say that." I leaned farther forward and gazed into her eyes. "What I want is to get my lips and tongue on you."

Leah's jaw dropped open, her eyes went wide, and she stared at me. "Do you really mean that?" A red flush that I knew was arousal rushed up her neck. She narrowed her eyes at me. "You suggested I take my dress off and give my fucking tits some air. Is that where you want to put your lips and tongue?"

Moment of truth for me. I could say yes, which would be true, but only half-true. Or I could go all in, be honest, and tell her what I really wanted. "That's where I'd like to start, but not where I want to stop."

Her eyes narrowed more. "And where exactly do you want to stop?" Her flush deepened, and she was taking short little breaths, almost panting.

Past the scent of our sweat, I could smell the aroma of her arousal. "I don't want to stop anywhere."

Leah gasped, leaned into me, and pressed her lips to mine. Moments later, her tongue slithered into my mouth, and I luxuriated in the feel of her warm wetness licking and sucking me, sending powerful quakes of delight through me. I held her cheek in my palm as we thrashed our tongues together.

Leah leaned away and sat back on her heels. "You're gonna stomp out of here, I know it," she said as if declaring an absolute truth.

My head was spinning. "What?"

"I want to be real with you, more than you know. But if I am, you're gonna run away."

"And why would I do that?" I was twice as confused as I was before.

"I use words like 'fuck' all the time because I like saying them, especially when I'm excited. I'll probably say that word a lot and really loudly if you put your lips on me. I also say words like 'pussy' and 'ass' and I can be very demanding when I use them. I'm not a very 'nice' girl," it was her turn to make air quotes, "when I'm in the throes. And I'm gonna want things that might scare you. You'll want to leave, I know it."

I wrapped my fingers in her sweaty hair and held her tight, just inches from my face. "I want to suck your tits until you scream. I want to lick your clit and spank your ass. I'll want to shove my hard cock in and out of your pussy until you scream and cum. And after you explode, I want you to suck my throbbing dick until I shoot a gallon of cum down your throat."

Leah's eyes were filled with glee and hope. "You mean that?" I nodded. "What about my ass?"

"What about it?"

"Will you fuck my ass? Will you pump me so full of your hot seed that I feel it run down my legs?"

"Do you want me to?"

Leah's eyes rolled back in her head. "Oh my god, yes!" She exclaimed. She sat back on her heels again and held me at arm's length. "What about my tits? Will you fuck my tits and drench them with cum?"

The image of me doing that flashed into my mind. I moaned. "I will fuck you any and everywhere you want."

Leah wrapped her arms around me and groaned with excitement. Seconds later, she was naked and tugging at my belt. Sweat trickled down her taunt flanks as she stripped me bare and uncovered my achingly hard cock. She stopped, and once more, she sat back on her heels. Despite her self-proclaimed lust, I suspected she was having doubts and that the wild tryst I hoped we'd share was about to come to a screeching halt. Leah speared me with her eyes. "You did hear me when I told you that I'm not a nice girl, didn't you?" I didn't say anything and took in the sight of her - wild, damp hair, sweat, and dirt-streaked skin flushed red with sexual arousal, heaving breasts capped by rock-hard nipples dripping with her sweat. She was the most erotic, sexiest thing I'd ever seen. I was mesmerized and desperate for whatever naughtiness she might reveal. I nodded in answer to her question. Leah grinned, or maybe she leered at me, and my already racing pulse sped up. "Then you've been warned - I take my sex smokin' hot, slippery wet, and very, very dirty."

If I hadn't already been sitting, I might have fallen over from the lust that flooded over me.

She reached into her backpack and began pulling out one sex toy after another - vibrators, cock rings, butt plugs, nipple clamps, and some I didn't recognize. The last thing she retrieved was a massive bottle of lube. "Got enough of that?" I scoffed.

"Sharing is caring, and I'm definitely going to be sharing this." Leah straddled me and pushed her breasts toward my face. "Put your lips and tongue on me like you said you wanted to. Make me cum!" She writhed her sweat-slick body against mine.

She didn't need to ask me twice. I trapped a rigid nipple between my lips and sucked hard. Leah moaned loudly, so I sucked harder. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me into her. I flicked my tongue back and forth over the nub of flesh. Leah squealed with delight and began humping herself against me. The combination of our co-mingled perspiration and the copious amount of nectar dripping from between her legs coated my rigid pole, which was trapped between us, and lubricated her gyrations atop me. Her squeals of happiness turned into loud exclamations, "Fuck yeah!" "That's it, baby!" "Suck me good!" and propelled me on. She yanked me onto her other breast and forced her crotch harder against my slippery cock. "You feel so fucking good."

I laved her tits and intermittently bit her nipples when she demanded it while she pulsed herself against me. Sweat poured off us, puddled where our bodies were joined, and made lurid splashing sounds as we thrust against each other. It was incredible - unrestrained, wild, lascivious...dirty. It was just the start.

Leah shuddered hard, then sighed a deep breath and pulled me away from her chest. She slid off my lap. "Give me your cock." It was an order, not a request. "Put it here," she gestured to the valley between her full breasts. I got onto my knees while she bent at the waist and squished her mounds together. "You promised to fuck my tits." She glared at me with lust-filled eyes. "And you better. Do not hold back. Fuck them like you mean it, and don't stop until you shower me with your hot cum."

I knew the pleasure of feeling a woman's breast on my erection before. But what Leah and I did was over the top. While she cheered me on, I vigorously thrust my cock back and forth between her soft and slick flesh. The climax she'd demanded from me was moments away when she called out, "Give it to me! Give it all to me!" I obeyed and exploded. Fountains of sticky, hot, white semen shot out in thick ropes and splashed all over Leah's breasts. It came out with so much force that it sprayed up onto her face and into her hair. With each jet, Leah moaned and shrieked and called out her delight, "Yes! Yes! Oh, yes!" When I was finally spent, she released me. I fell backward. She reared up and looked down at herself, smiling at the white streaks of my goo dripping from her and mingling with the sweat running down her body. After massaging the squishy remnants of my orgasm into her skin, she held her dripping hands out to me. "Isn't it wonderful?" I realized that Leah was sharing a deep intimacy with me - her open, honest, unvarnished desire and pleasure. I felt honored as well as aroused.

"My turn," Leah announced after licking her hands clean. She pushed me onto my back. "Lick my pussy and make me cum while you recover. Then we're gonna fuck." She swung her legs around and straddled my upturned head. Before lowering herself, she said, "You did my tits really well. Do even better with my pussy." She dropped onto my mouth.