One Night in Chloe

Copyright (c) 2019 James Miehoff, All Rights Reserved.

This work may not be published whether for fee or free without this copyright.

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This is one of a series of stories set in what I call Universe-J. Universe-J is very much like this universe with a few exceptions.

First the people tend to be a little more sexual and less hung up on sex that they are in our universe. This does not mean that monogamy is the exception. James and Heather were monogamous for a significant amount of time before they "accidentally" swapped partners.

Second the repercussions of unprotected sex are less severe than our universe. Not to say that STDs and unexpected pregnancies don't occur, just that they occur less frequently and in the case of STDs, a good shot of antibiotic will put you right again. HIV has yet to be introduced so STDs aren't a death sentence there.

Lastly, pedophilia and incest (which I will not be writing about) are virtually unknown. Children are to be protected and loved not abused. When they reach the age of consent, they can join in the adult games if they so desire, but there is no pressure on them to do so.

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The sun had just set when he pulled into the truck stop. Glancing quickly around, he settled on parking on the side of the greasy spoon attached to the typical truck stop gas station/store.

As he put the car in park, he turned the key and let the car sleep. Yawning, he stretched and leaned the seat back a little. 'Twenty two hours of driving was enough for this day. Just a quick nap and I'll be ready to go on,' was his last thought.

He came awake instantly with the gentle but insistent knocking on his window. Looking out into the semi darkness the first thing he saw were her almond eyes. Then he saw the pouring rain. Waving at her and pointing to the passenger seat he thumbed the button unlocking the doors.

In the sudden stabbing light when the passenger door was opened, he saw a young woman climbing in. He guessed she was mid-twentyish but part of him recognized the difficulty in guessing the age of oriental women. Somewhere over twenty was a pretty sure bet, so no worries about jailbait.

Before the light broke off, he could see that she was dripping wet and dressed in a tight t-shirt and a short skirt. The t-shirt clung to her small breasts, outlining them with her nipples poking out like cherries on top.

"Thanks. It was turning into a wet t contest out there," she said giggling.

"No problem," he said. "What brings you out on an ugly night like this?"

She hesitated, and then said, "You know, the usual, looking for rich lonely truckers.

"By the way, I'm Chloe."

His eyes must have betrayed his thoughts about the first half of her statement because she quickly continued, "It's not like I'm going to be doing this forever. I am going to be a writer someday."

"I'm sorry," he said embarrassed. "I didn't mean to be judgmental."

The silence built until it was nearly unbearable.

Chloe cracked first. "Normally I would wait inside. Jimmy is pretty cool like that. I blow him once in a while and he ignores the rules against working girls hanging inside. But tonight Delores is working and she is a bitch.

"Hey would you mind if I took off my shirt and got a dry one out of my backpack?

Somewhat shocked, he just shook his head dumbly as he watched her strip the wet shirt off.

Her breasts were as perfect as they had promised to be. Crinkled from the cold, he had the sudden desire to warm them with his hands, or his mouth. Just the thought started a chain reaction in his pants and he squirmed trying to adjust himself discreetly.

As she bent down to look through her backpack, he took a chance and shifted his growing erection. She giggled and he knew he was busted.

"Is your little fellow happy to see me?" she asked coyly, the new t-shirt forgotten.

"Uh-huh," he said while frantically trying to think of a way to change the subject.

As she leaned over the console and reached for his belt, her left breast fit snugly into his hand. It felt so good. He could feel the nipple getting even harder as it gently pressed on his palm. His whole being was focused on the feeling of that small patch of her bare skin pressed against his.

By the time he realized what was going on, she had his belt open, the button undone and was gently unzipping his jeans.

He put his free hand on hers to stop her, but she continued, saying very sweetly, "Your hands are so nice and warm. You can rub them all over me to warm me up."

Finally, he found his voice and haltingly sputtered, "I'm, ah, I don't have any money. I'm not one of your rich truckers. I don't have any cash."

She had finally finished with his zipper and fished his now much enlarged penis out of his boxer shorts. She glanced up, gave him an unbearably cute smile and winked then turned her head back down and slipped the head of his manhood slowly into her mouth and stroked his shaft. His protests died as words failed him. A low slow growling moan was all he could muster.

Part of his brain recognized that she was slipping a rubber on him. She had sucked it into her mouth and unrolled it as she slid him deeper and deeper into her mouth.

But that tidbit was torn apart by the whirlwind of ecstasy thrashing the inside of his brain.

When he realized she wasn't sucking on his cock anymore, he opened his eyes. She was just climbing over the console. 'She must have been a gymnast she moves so gracefully,' he thought just before she straddled him. She had her short skirt tucked up into the waistband and he could see her hairless pubic region as she lined up above his erection.

He tried to say, "No." But it came out as an unintelligible groan as she sank smoothly down on him.

The part of his brain that was always watching and always analyzing took note of this and wondered, 'It is because the condom was lubricated or was she really that wet?"

The squishing noises she made as she rode up and down on him answered that question.

Automatically, his hands went around her and pulled her so he could rise up and get that extra little bit deeper into her. She smiled and moaned as his pubic bone crushed her against him and gave her clitoris the feeling she needed.

As she pulled his head to her nipple, she whispered, "You are pretty pent up, how long has it been?"

His eyes glanced at the clock in the radio and he answered automatically, "128 days 11 hours and 34 minutes."

Surprised, she sank down on him and stopped.

"How do you know that?" she asked in wide eyed amazement.

"That was when my wife and I last finished making love," he said with no trace of emotion. "She got up and threw on some clothes and headed to the store to buy some milk. She wanted to make her world famous patented pancakes from a box for me. The store was 4 blocks from the house. At the third street, there was a stoplight. That was the stoplight that the garbage truck blew through and crushed my soul.

"She was buried five days later. I got into my car and drove from the graveyard. I have been driving ever since. When the car dies, I guess I will start walking."

Chloe just hugged him. He could feel her tears running down to stain his shirt, the same shirt that was stained with gallons of his own tears. Tears he no longer had left to give.

He put his arms around her and started to lift her up and down on his cock. It was gentle but insistent.

She lifted her head and started to kiss his neck. Her tears stained his collar.

"Please fuck me," he begged. "Make me feel alive for just a moment."

She nodded and pulled him back to her breast. He kissed it and suckled it intensely and thoroughly, sending shivers through her body. She began to fuck him back, slowly to match him then faster as her passion began to overtake her. He matched her speed until they were almost a blur.

Together they cried out, "I'm coming," and smashed together as if trying to become one.

He slumped back spent and she kissed him gently before climbing back into the passenger side. Carefully she tucked him back into his pants. He was spent, but he could feel that he was still leaking a lot of cum.

When she had him put back together, she leaned over and whispered in a voice he knew so well, "It's time to go home."

The car light flashed and he heard the door close but the hours of driving and the euphoria of the last few minutes overwhelmed him and he thought no more.

He came awake instantly with the gentle but insistent knocking on his window. Looking out into the semi darkness the first thing he saw was the badge.

Once he was awake, the form outside started yelling at him. Although muffled by the window and the driving rain, the words were plain enough. "You can't sleep here. Either go in and buy something or move on. If you are that tired, go find a hotel."

He grabbed the keys and opened the door. The large shape backed off and kept one hand in a pocket while holding an umbrella in the other.

Closing and locking the door, he ran to the front of the restaurant and stepped in. The sign said, "Seat Yourself", so he did. A large woman with Delores on her nametag came over and gave him a menu and poured a cup of coffee. He ordered pancakes and headed for the bathroom.

After washing his groin and drying it with paper towels he returned to the table to find pancakes, a bowl of butter in the sealed little packets and a glass container of syrup on the table.

Delores stopped by to make small talk and refill the coffee mug, but she had never heard of a young oriental woman named Chloe.

A little later, with a belly full of pancakes and three mugs of coffee, he went to the register and paid with his debit card. He left Delores a $20 tip. 'She really wasn't a bitch,' he thought. 'But then I'm not a working girl.'

The tag on the cashier's shirt said his name was Jimmy, so he had to ask. But Jimmy claimed he didn't know Chloe. As he turned and walked away, Jimmy said, "We're pretty much out in the middle of nowhere. In fact, I can't say that I have seen any ornamental people in here in more than two years. Sorry."

Disappointed, he nodded and pushed out the door. The rain had stopped and the false dawn was just starting.

As he got back in his car, the last of the trucks parked at the back of the lot pulled out. He looked, but there were no tiny oriental girls hanging around, so he put the key in, started the car and headed for the road.

As he made the turn onto the road, the sun was beginning to crack over the horizon and it flashed briefly on a sign. His brain automatically scanned the symbols, turned them into letters and the letters into words, "Now Leaving Chloe".

He chuckled as he thought, 'One night in Chloe and I'm ready to go home.'