Prime Mover

It was the long school break and Cathy and I were hitch-hiking to the Gold Coast. We figured that if we got luck with our rides we could get there in three days. We were both eighteen, tired of studying, and wanting to have some fun and relaxation in the sun, surf, and sand.

By the end of the second day we were well into New South Wales and I was quietly confident that we'd make Surfers Paradise the next day. Cathy was certainly going to, the bitch. We'd stopped at this motel for the night and there was this cute guy there with a sports car. The next thing I know Cathy had dumped me, hopped into his little car and taken off, saying she'd meet me when I got there.

I was fuming. One of the reasons we were together was for safety. Now I was going to be stuck hitching a ride on my lonesome, with all the accompanying perils. Quite frankly, I spent a restless night, worrying about what might happen.

I got over my funk in the morning. It's not as though I had much choice. It was a case of grit my teeth and start hiking, hoping for a sweet little old grandmother to pick me up.

I was having zero luck rides wise and an hour later I was still trudging down the road. I'd had one offer but I'd have to have been insane to accept it. A young guy in a hotted up car and smelling of alcohol. Yeah, like I was going to get in his car. Where he got the booze that early in the morning is beyond me. Maybe he stocked up the night before.

So there I am, trotting along the side of the road, and a truck pulls up alongside me. Well, not a complete truck. Just that front bit. I think they're called prime-movers. Standing next to it, it looked enormous. The wheels were my height. This guy leans out the window and asks if I wanted a lift. He was on his way to Brisbane. Well, yes, I'd love a lift. Just not with you.

Not that I had anything against the guy. He was a big, burly, man in his thirties, just the sort of guy you would imagine to be a truckie. I couldn't see the driver but I imagined he'd be similar.

"Ah, thank you, but no thank you," I said politely.

"Why not?"

"A young girl going for a ride with a couple of men in a truck? I think not."

"Last time I counted there was just me here," he said. "I don't need a co-driver when I'm just taking baby home."

"Same difference," I told him. "I'd be asking for trouble if I got in with you."

"Scared that I'd rape you?" he asked, and I could tell he was laughing at me.

"It's a possibility that I have to consider," I acknowledged.

"Not really. I wouldn't force you. Well, I might, but only if you said no to a bit of friendly fucking."

Oh, yes, he was definitely laughing at me.

"Then I'm sure you can see why I'm not getting in that truck."

"Not really. Sex is good for you. It's healthy exercise. You should practice it regularly and enjoy it."

"Maybe, but rape is bad for you so I'd just as soon avoid it."

"That's easy fixed. Just agree to having sex as the price of the ride."

"You have got to be kidding."

"Not really. I'll do you a deal. Brisbane is nearly a day's travel away. I assume that you're going to Surfers and will want to be dropped off as we pass it. I'll give you a lift all the way and I won't fuck you during the first hour. You'll be free to abandon ship at any stage. If you stay on board after the first hour I will feel free to fuck you once we come to a nice secluded stretch of road."

I dithered a bit at that. I could get a long way in an hour's driving. I'd be well inside Queensland and could probably catch a bus or train the rest of the way. The catch, of course, was that the guy wanted to fuck me. Not that he was a gargoyle or anything like that. It was just the principle of the thing.

"If I say I want to get out you'll stop and let me out?"

"Not a problem," he assured me. "I can't see myself driving through some town with a teenager leaning out the truck window screaming blue murder. I'm assuming that you are eighteen. I'd hate to have an underage lass in my truck."

"Yes, I'm eighteen. Would you like to see my driver's licence?"

"Not necessary. What I would like to see is you taking a snapshot of the rig and sending it to a friend so they know what vehicle you're on."

I felt like a real idiot. So simple to do and it almost guarantees my safety. Anything happens and the police would know exactly who to talk to. I did as he suggested, taking a shot of the rig and a shot of him, sending them to my brother.

So I climbed up into the cabin. I'd never been so high off the road before. You could see for yonks. I wasn't seriously worried that he'd try to molest me. He was driving, after all, and the cabin was quite spacious. I was too far from him for even a casual grope. If he pulled up anywhere I could always jump out and run. I'm smaller and probably faster and there would be other traffic. The photos were the main security, though.

We took off down the highway and it was the most comfortable ride I'd ever had. Gavin proved to be a congenial companion, keeping me amused with stories about things that had happened on the road. He told me about the time he was at a red light next to a beach and this guy was in the park tossing some bread to the seagulls. Next thing he knew the man had walked over to his truck and opened the door and thrown bread inside. About a dozen seagulls flew into the cabin and the guy slammed the door, leaving him in the truck with all these seagulls.

I totally relaxed, listening to him ramble on. He did like to talk. At some stage my restless night caught up with me and I fell asleep.

When I woke we were in one of those truck rest areas you see at the side of the road. Looking around I could see that we were right up the top of a hill. Quite a high hill, too. Looking forward I could see the road vanishing into the distance, surrounded by trees. Looking behind me I had a similar view.

"Um, why are we stopped?" I asked, feeling distinctly on the nervous side.

"We had a deal, remember. One hour free ride. After that. . ."

He paused for a moment while I digested that. Then he continued.

"Actually, your hour was up an hour ago but you were sleeping so peacefully I didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"What? So you think you're now free to, um, free to, ah," I wasn't quite sure how to phrase what he might feel free to do. "You didn't give me a chance to get out after my hour was up," I protested.

"True. I won't hold you to the hour on a technicality. You can hop out now if you like."

My hand was already reaching for the door handle when reality nudged me. I could see for miles in both directions but in all those miles I couldn't see any sign of a town. Or a village, or a shop, or a lonely house.

"Um, how far is it to the nearest town?"

"Thirty odd kilometres behind us. If you want the nearest town in front of us it's about seventy kilometres."

Ye gods. If I got out here I'd be totally stranded. I couldn't even see any cars on the road. I bit my lip. There was no way I was giving in to his crude attempt at coercion. I reached for the door handle.

"You have guts," he said, "but I couldn't square it with my conscience to let you get out here. I'll drop you off at the next town if you insist."

"Oh. Thank you," I muttered. "Ah, where are we?"

"A couple of hundred kilometres inside Queensland. Surfers is about another three hundred."

So by the time we reached the next town that would leave me about two hundred and fifty kilometres to go. Assuming that I got another lift.

"Question for you. Are you refusing to let me fuck you because you're genuinely scared of me taking advantage of you or because you just don't think it's the correct thing to do?"

"I'm not scared of you," I protested. A little nervous, possibly, but not scared.

"So it's only because you don't think it's the correct thing to do. Are you married or a virgin?"

"What? No. Not that it's any of your business."

"Yes it is. I don't poach on people wives or hassle virgins. Being neither, you are fair game. Do you expect to meet any boys while at Surfers?"

"What's that got to do with things?" I asked, blushing. Of course I expected to meet and flirt with boys while there. That was part of the reason for going.

"Then you'll probably finish up going to bed with at least one of them. Especially if they have anything to say about it."

"So what?" I asked defensively.

"So why not with me? I know you were considering it. Your main reason for refusing was that it would feel as though I was forcing you to submit. It should be obvious by now that I won't."

"That's ridiculous," I muttered.

"Uh-huh. Would you like me to whisper sweet nothing in your ear and slowly seduce you?"

"That's even more ridiculous," I said, annoyed.

"True. I'd much rather just peel off you clothes and fuck you. How about it?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard."

"And I'm ignoring the suggestion."

"Why? Because you don't want to or because you do?"

I pointedly ignored his comment. So what if I was wondering what it would be like with an older man. Not that he was old. But he was rather large. The whole thing was ridiculous.

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said. "I will take off all your clothes and then make vigorous love to you. You don't have to agree. Just tell me no very firmly when you want me to stop."

I blinked, looking at him. He had to be joking. He reached under the steering wheel and did something and to my surprise the wheel just folded forward. He now had ample room to move around. He turned towards me and reached for me.

This was Queensland in the summer and I was hitch-hiking. I'd dressed with both these things in mind. Light clothes so I didn't get overheated. A loose top so that I had some ventilation. Slacks as I would be doing a lot of walking. A tight top and short shorts might have got me more attention from drivers but I doubt the lifts offered would have been acceptable. As it was a blouse and slacks kept me reasonably cool and gave the right impression while hiking.

I was starting to think I should have worn a t-shirt. Blouses have buttons and the buttons on my blouse were rapidly coming undone. I pushed at his hands, saying, "but, but," and he ignored me. He just calmly pulled the blouse loose from my slacks and then slid it down my arms and off, leaving me sitting there in my bra. Not for long, though. He had that unhooked and off in nothing flat.

He sat back at that stage after firmly removing my hands from my breasts and putting them by my sides. Oh, gawd. My nipples were erect and he was watching them, telling me what a sweet pair of breasts I had. He reached out and touched them, just the very tips of his fingers running across them, and it felt as if he was branding them.

His thumbs lightly rolled my nipples around and then his hands dropped to my slacks. I didn't need a belt with those slacks. My hip to waist ratio guaranteed the slacks would stay up once fastened. No belt also meant that once the button and zip were undone the slacks could come down real easy. Forget the heat. I should have been wearing skin tight jeans. He wouldn't have had them off so easily.

I was still mumbling things like, "You can't, you mustn't," when my panties went the way of the rest of my clothes and I was sitting there wearing a pair of light sandals.

I was going to say no and make him stop, I swear I was. It was just that I was feeling a bit confused. I just couldn't believe a man could strip you naked so fast and so easily. I still didn't understand how I had arrived at this situation. I took a firm hold of myself, took a big breath and was all ready to tell him no when things changed.

If a man takes off your clothes, what is step two? Why, he takes off his own clothes, of course. And while he was doing that I'd be getting mine back on and telling him no in a very firm no-nonsense voice. It was just unfortunate that Gavin deviated from step two, going to step b instead.

Instead of getting undressed Gavin took hold of my ankles and lifted them high and wide. Anyone driving past our truck would have seen two naked legs reaching for the roof. At the same time he was lifting my legs he was bending forward and his head was between my legs, his mouth fastened on my mound.

My nice firm no turned into something more like 'nngh' as his tongue started doing terrible things to me. He'd let go my ankles but my legs stayed where they were, propped up by his shoulders. One of his hands was on one of my breasts, rubbing and fondling, while the other was down next to his face, rubbing those parts of my pussy that his mouth wasn't covering.

Just tell him no, he said. You try and say anything coherent when some man is munching on your muff. See how far you get. What's more, with his head jammed down between my legs those same legs were pressed either side of his head. I have no doubt that they would act as efficient earmuffs preventing him from hearing anything. And if they didn't, how could I prove it?

It was a good thing I wasn't a virgin I would have fainted from shock at what he was doing. As it was I felt light-headed. And horny. Very, very horny. He had aroused me effortlessly and was now building on that arousal. It turned out he knew just what a woman's clitoris was and how to stimulate it for maximum effect.

Gavin had me screaming before he was finished, my hands tangled in his hair and trying to pull his head away. Trouble was I had absolutely no strength in my hands and could only paw helplessly at him. I was going to climax and there was nothing I could do about it. He was deliberately doing this to make me.

I climaxed all right. In a big way. He knew it too, the swine. I just sat there looking dazed as he sat up. Now he went to step 2 and got undressed. Well, he dropped his trousers and shorts, anyway, and I was too stunned by his audacity to say no at that stage.

By the time I started getting my act together I was sitting there looking at this whacking great erection.

"What the fuck?" I said, feeling faintly appalled.

"What's the problem?" he returned, sounding slightly puzzled.

"What did you do? Castrate a horse and steal its equipment?"

"Oh, be reasonable. It's not that large," he protested. "Maybe a little more than average but that's all."

In that case the boys that had been so eager to flash their equipment at me must have all been well under average. That thing looked enormous.

"Do you seriously think I'm going to let you stick that thing in me?"

"Let's find out," he said, reaching over and picking me up. He turned me so that I was looking out the windscreen and started lowering me.

I just stared straight ahead, feeling this monster pressing against me. No wonder he gave me a little oral work beforehand. If he hadn't he'd probably have split me in two with that thing. First it pressed against me and then it started pushing into me. He wasn't forcing the pace. In fact, he wasn't really pushing into me at all. His arms were around me, hands fondling my breasts, but he was just allowing gravity and Mother Nature take control. Slowly but surely I was sinking down onto him.

It suddenly dawned on me that I was thinking reasonably logically again. Well, as logically as could be expected when you're naked in a prime-mover and sinking down onto the driver's enormous cock. I had been intending to say no and have him stop. Bit fucking late now. So now what did I do? There was only one thing I could do. Wriggle a little and make sure he went in smoothly, so that's what I did.

He went in smoothly all right. And he kept going in. Average my fucking Aunt Annie. He was big and no amount of false modesty would change that fact. Any bigger and he'd have done me an injury. When I finally found myself resting against his groin I almost groaned with relief. His hands were busy caressing my breasts and he just let me sit there for a moment.

"Did it occur to you," he asked, hands busy stroking my breasts and teasing my nipples, "that you're in plain sight of anyone who drives past?"

A frisson of shock ran through me. The thought had never crossed my mind. We were inside his damn truck, weren't we? Then I put it all together. Yes, we were inside his truck, but it was broad daylight outside. The driver's window was down so there was no glass to obstruct the view. If you look in a car or truck window even the most casual glance would show the driver. Unless you looked in the window of our truck and that casual glance would show the naked woman sitting on the driver's lap. Me.

I spluttered something but it didn't make sense to me and I was the one saying it.

"I know," he said sympathetically. "It comes as a shock to find that you're an exhibitionist, doesn't it? Why don't you hang onto the steering wheel?"

I automatically grabbed the wheel before wondering why I should. I was also wondering if I said no at this point, would he stop? Highly unlikely in my opinion. Then my whole body jolted as he pulled back slightly and drove back into me. Now I knew why I had to hold the steering wheel. To give me something to hold on to and prevent me from being tossed right off.

Oh my god. I was hot and wet and eager and it was all his fault. Him and his damned tongue. Now his cock was taking over from where his tongue left off, demonstrating that his tongue was really only a second rate player in the old, old game of fucking. He bounced me hard and I found myself sliding up and down his pole in fine style. If any perverts did take a peek through the window they'd have had quite a show.

I was gasping and squeaking as we moved together. Gavin was quite happy to demonstrate what experience does for a man in the mating game. I found I was quite happy to receive an education, bouncing merrily upon him, his hands rubbing my breasts the whole time.

I quickly learned that while Gavin was driving in in fine style he wasn't in a desperate rush. He had settled into a rhythm that kept me on the move without pushing me frantically towards a climax. He was content to draw it out, prolonging the whole experience, slowly building on my excitement as he turned the warmth inside me into a burning heat.

He slowly but deliberately took me to the edge of a climax and then he balanced me there, continuing to enjoy himself while I squirmed and pleaded. I was making frantic little sounds, desperate for him to help me that last little bit and he was laughing at me and teasing me. I was almost weeping when he suddenly drove in hard and fast, giving me the impetus I need and I climaxed with a scream.

He gave me some things that I could use to clean myself up and after that I got dressed almost in a dream. He told me that if I wanted a cold drink (I did) I would find a small fridge built into the sleeping compartment. I hadn't even known these things came with sleeping compartments, let alone fridges.

We sat there sucking on our drinks.

"I assume that you'll be sticking with me all the way?"

"If you don't mind," I replied.

"No worries. I can make a small detour and drop you in Surfers. You do realise that it will take us three or four hours to make the trip?"

"Well, yes. I expected that."

"Fair enough. Do you realise that I may find myself, ah, restless in another hour or so and you'll be right there in the cabin next to me?"

What did he mean? Oh. I knew what he meant.

"You're going to want to do it again if I stay with you?" I couldn't credit the man's gall.

"Just saying," he murmured. "Not that I'd pressure you into anything you didn't want. I won't even mention that the mattress in the sleeping compartment is incredibly comfortable and I expect to have some interesting times there."

"Right. No pressure and I don't have to think of the fact that you're driving a travelling bed for when you need to take a break for some reason."