Author's Note : This series is an ongoing journey of Parker's sexual escapades. The sex takes some reading to get to. If you're looking for something with the sex right away, this series isn't right for you at this time.
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All my life the biggest thing I've wanted for myself is to be on my own. To be completely self reliant and independent from everyone is what I consider to be real freedom. Having recently become unattached I'm a step closer to my goal. I mean, yeah, I have a roommate, but she values her privacy and independence as much as I do. She just took pity on me and offered the extra room she doesn't really have a use for. I pay rent, buy my own groceries and help with the housework. We hang out, watch TV or movies and occasion share a meal together. I don't answer to her and she doesn't answer to me. So when work told me I needed to use at least a week of my accumulated vacation or lose it, I got to decide exactly what to do. I packed my duffel bag, shot my roomie a text, and hit the road.
In my pick up truck I rolled the windows down, played Skillet station on Pandora and let the road take me. It wasn't until I had a state between me and home that I had an idea where I wanted to go. On my way I passed a lot of things on the road. Cars pulled off the side of the road with a flat tire, cargo truck pulled over by the cops and being searched. There was even a pick up like mine with the entire front end that had burst into flames. That was the most interesting thing I saw until I passed through one of those small towns on the highway that lowers the speed limit to 40. Two traffic lights in 5 minutes were what it took to get through the town of who the hell cares. Four miles down the road is when I saw her.
My foot let up off the accelerator at the site of the black hugging tank top that barely reaches the waistband of her dark cut off shorts. Long legs going into black boots and even though at this distance I can only see her general body type, I can feel that first twinge of arousal. Not in the pants, but the twinge in my brain and since it's been a good long while since I last got any, it doesn't take much to get me going. After my initial look of her I realize her demeanor is angry. It's a true testament to my current state of mind that I noticed her instead of the white smoke coming from the open hood of the old shitty white pickup she's next to.
I slow my own truck down and roll down the passenger side window as I pull up to her. Now I can see her hair doesn't even reach her shoulders, and she's got hazel eyes set in a pretty face. This is one of those small town country beauties that's always been pretty. The type of girl I couldn't get to notice me in high school, the type I used to masturbate to before porn became so easily accessible. I put real concern in my voice when I ask if she's okay, there's an ever growing puddle under the truck and I knew something very important must have ruptured. She tells me it's her now ex boyfriend's truck and she's headed a few hours down the highway. Since I'm not in a hurry to get anywhere I say it's no problem and to hop in. She grabs a duffle bag twice the size of mine, tosses it in the bed, and brings a backpack into the cab with her, no purse.
She tells me her name is Leigh and she stole her loser ex boyfriend's truck with every intention of running it off the road on her way to her cousin's. Apparently he's a dickless, lying, cheating asshole that needs to be torn apart by jungle cats or alley cats, which ever will hurt more. I personally think the alley cats would hurt more because a jungle cat will go for the jugular so their prey won't get away. I tell her this as I reach in the back for a pack of baby wipes so she can clean the black truck crap off her hands. She laughs at my comment, bringing a lightness to her face instead of the scowl she's had on since I saw her. "My name is Parker," and I put the truck back in drive. I watch her as much as I can while she tells me about herself. Her lightly tanned skin is peppered with freckles from her dark brown hair, all the way down to her bare legs. She kicks off her boots and I see those toenails are unpainted, so are her fingernails. Now that I see that I notice she doesn't have any make up on, and she smells faintly of flowers, like it's from a decent body wash instead of a perfume. Either she didn't bother with anything in her move away from dickless or Leigh simply doesn't care about that stuff. It's not like she needs it, she's stunning just the way she is.
Reaching into her backpack, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes. I tell her I don't mind, and she lights up. The click of the Zippo opening, the crack of the flint igniting the fuel and the sound of the end engulfed by flame are a song I forgot was once near and dear to me. Since she got in the truck I haven't taken my eyes off her, save for the road, until now. Leigh notices this because she asks in a voice right at home in the bedroom, "Do you want?" The front part of my mind holds the image of her lying on a bed in low light completely naked with her arms reaching out towards me and for a moment this is what I think she's offering. The back part of my mind knows I'm fantasizing and I nod my head saying, "Sure." I quit a few years back and now that I'm single I don't have someone judging my every move and decision with disdain.
She hands me the cig she just lit and I bring it to my lips. It could be my imagination, but I swear I can taste her. I've never been able to describe the taste of a woman unless she's wearing flavored lip gloss, but I can detect something on this cigarette that wouldn't have been there had I lit the smoke myself. As I drive she tells me about her problems with dickless, and I listen. Occasionally I make a comment, "What a douchebag," or "that asshole." My most colorful comment was, "You should have kicked him in the balls until he was bleeding from the mouth." And for the second time in the hour I've known her, Leigh laughs.
"You're a good listener," she tells me, and I can feel her eyes on me. I'm not much to look at, I'll admit. At 5'7 and 220 pounds I've got some improvements to make. In the last three months I've managed to lose about 40 pounds, and put on some muscle. I'd like to lose another 40, but I've noticed the loss has slowed, hence the need for improvement. Short Brown hair with a few silver hairs hiding here and there, hazel eyes and a red beard on my chin. Until yesterday I had a full beard and mustache, but it became more unruly than my short hair gets when I first wake up. With less than half an inch on just my chin it's easier to deal with and I idly play with it less.
"With a face like this," I tell her, "my ears need to be my best feature. Otherwise a beautiful woman like you has no use for me."
Leigh brushes the back of her hand against the side of my face and feels the soft stubble there. "You're cuter than you think you are," she assures me, "being a good listener just makes the panties fall easier." I raise an eyebrow at that and she laughs. When she catches her breath she says, "Listening can be one of the sexiest traits a man can have, but you have to be careful with self deprecation. A little is endearing, but too much is a deterrent." I smile and nod, certainly not the first time I've heard that. A thought occurs to me and I can't help the tiniest chuckle. It doesn't go unnoticed. "What's so funny?"
"It's refreshing being around a woman like you." I say with a glance.
"I know that look. You've got your own recent ex, don't you?"
