Sundance

This is how it started. I'm dressed up for a Saturday night – denim skirt, way too short, and a thin semi-transparent camisole under a gauzy cotton shirt, high boots. I'd left my long red hair loose and curly. The night with my boyfriend had devolved into the usual stupidity. I'd left impulsively – after another fight – determined to get away. It didn't matter where I was going or what I was wearing. I just drove.

My luck unfolded in a bizarre way. First of all, I get a flat tire in the middle of the desert– of course, my asshole boyfriend had taken my spare and never replaced it. Two men in a van stop to give me a lift… great. Without air-conditioning… not so great. My hair was damp with sweat and I wished that I had something to pull it back with. It's so hot. The baking kind of heat the desert makes. When the air rushes in through the windows, it dries your eyeballs, but does nothing in the way of cooling you off.

The road in the desert was dead straight. You barely had to look where you were going. These two guys had been attempting to play cards while they were driving. They'd had to give it up once I came in, as I had to sit in the spot where they were trying to balance the cards, next to the console between the two seats.

One, kind of soft and angelic looking; the other, the driver, was harder, darker. Meaner even. I didn't get a good look at him. He was all business. It was obvious he hadn't wanted to stop – didn't want to be slowed down by picking up a passenger. Neither of them said anything to me other than "Flat tire, huh. Bad luck." The dark-haired guy barely glanced at me. The other guy said, "It ain't much, but it's moving." I laughed, and said, "Thanks, you're saving my life."

I squeezed myself into the area beside the steering column on the floor between the two front seats, leaned back, and closed my eyes. It was many, many miles to the nearest town.

Night

Time passed. I don't know how much. I was in that state just before dozing off – the adrenaline keeping me going had long since worn off. In my half-asleep state, I had been tugging at the blanket that was crumpled partially under me, so that I could put it under my head. I jolted awake when I realized that part of it was wedged underneath the dark-haired man's leg. As I pulled the blanket, his leg jerked up, and collided with my forearm. With the motion of the car, I lost my balance, and fell fully into the side of him. I had to grab his thigh to steady myself. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks.

"Sorry," I said. "It's all right," he answered, in a smoky drawl of a voice. As he spoke, he grabbed the edge of the blanket and tossed it roughly behind my head. He then turned away from the road to look directly at me. It was the first time I had seen his face and I was taken aback. The man was striking – black hair raked back over his forehead, with flecks of gray, dark eyebrows, well defined cheekbones, a full mouth, a startling red. He looked full at me; frowning slightly, and gazing at me with eyes that I felt go right through me. The most amazing eyes I had ever seen - yellow green – almost golden. His look went on a little longer than it should. His gaze penetrated, held me, seemed to quiz me, "What the hell are you doing out here?" I was transfixed – pulled in by those twin golden tractor beams. I felt a stab of electric energy shoot inward from my eyes through the central core of my body and down between my legs. I felt breathless and warm. His eyes took in the rest of me, traveling briefly downward – and I was suddenly aware of how completely inappropriately I was dressed.

At my thighs, his eyes lingered for a moment; I pulled down my skirt a bit. He raised his eyebrows a fraction, then looked away quickly. "I left the house in a hurry," I said. "I guess," he answered, and went back to driving.

It was starting to get dark. The drivers changed places. We drove in the darkness. There was no way I could sleep. Every inch of my skin vibrated with the memory of the look he had given me. My head, my heart, my soul, my being, was tuned into that signal. The transmitter was the beautiful, dark-haired man with the yellow green eyes, who now slept in the chair a foot away from me.

He was tall, and barely fit into the space allotted. His long legs, in tightly fitting denim, gleamed in the dark. The position looked uncomfortable, but he was asleep and oblivious. Replaying in my mind was the sharp physical memory of my hands on his thigh. I barely slept –all night I was conscious of how close he was to me. I couldn't will my heart to stop beating in triple time, and was barely able to stop the urge to reach out and touch his hand, lying inches from my cheek, relaxed, defenseless, in sleep. A big silver ring on one finger had a cast of a gorilla's face, open mouth in mid-screech, the face almost saying to me – go ahead, do it. I dare you.

Morning

It was about 9 o' clock. The other man was asleep in the back of the van. The dark man had gotten out and walked into the desert a few yards from the highway, and stoo there, staring out. The weather had cooled – his white shirt was open, half-tucked into his jeans, and fluttering slightly in the breeze. He lit a cigarette and just stood there smoking. I was trying to calm myself down, mentally shaking myself for the way I was feeling so drawn to him. Crazy. I mean, who were these guys anyway? They could be criminals, anything. Who knew what all that stuff was in the back of the van.

I got out of the van,leaned against the side and watched him. He turned his head toward me suddenly, as though he could sense that I was looking at him. We stood there staring at each other, for minutes, hours, centuries. Then, to break the spell, he waved his cigarette – pointed to the pack in his pocket, offering me one. It didn't seem like a good time to say I don't smoke, so I walked over to him. He had already taken one out of the pack, and was lighting it for me. As he passed me the cigarette, his fingers touched mine, warm, and dry. He wasn't quick to pull them away, but lingered for a moment with our fingers in contact – skin to skin. The spark I felt was almost enough to knock me off my feet. Blood was rushing in my ears; my heart was pounding. I managed to take the cigarette and stood there, completely awkward, watching the smoke curl upward around my fingers, thinking it was impossible that he couldn't hear the screaming in my head, "No, that's not what I want! That's not what I want! You must know – you must know what I want!" I felt faint, as though I was about to float up into the sky, and disappear without a trace.

When I finally made myself look up at him – Christ, he was so much taller that me - those amazing golden eyes were looking directly into mine. His face was too beautiful, too perfect, and one corner of his mouth was turned up a bit in a smile. He glanced at my fingers, holding the cigarette awkwardly, "You don't really smoke do you?" and kind of laughed, a soft little snort. Devastating smile. I shook my head, and smiled a bit, feeling ridiculous, like he'd found me out. "Yeah, I'm trying to quit too," he said. I tried to laugh. My hands went hot, then cold. He took a last drag from his cigarette, and tossed it away onto the sand. He stood and stared at me for a minute, those eyes, intense, alive, questioning me. My eyes answered, "yes, yes, yes," they were signaling. "I want you – I want you so much, you can't imagine." He licked his bottom lip, and took a step toward me, mere inches separating us now. He sighed, shook his head slowly, slowly, while the rest of his body was rigid, rooted to the spot. We stood there on the sand, breathing together. Moments passed while we studied each other, not knowing whether to scream or laugh or run away.

He broke the silence. "Oh, fuck," he said, finally, and took a step towards me. He caught the edges of my shirt with his fingers, and holding tightly to the fabric, pulled me towards him, reeling me in, saying softly, "Come here." His expression soft, and serious, pulling me closer and closer. Then, his hands were on my face – on either side, his long fingers pressing my temples. Turning back was impossible. He bent down toward me so our faces were close, then he paused, with his lips less than an inch from mine and whispered, "I can't believe I'm doing this. Who are you anyway?" With the sound of his whispered voice and his proximity to me, my knees buckled for a moment, then I recovered, "Just a woman you found in the desert," I breathed, standing on my toes and arching myself slightly forward, so our bodies were almost chest to chest, I could feel the metal of his belt as it pressed against my belly. His hand came down to caress my shoulder, my arm – the other hand went around my waist, under my shirt until he found my breast. I let out a moan, a sigh, as I let my knee move forward to come between his open legs, pressing the front of my thigh into his crotch, feeling him hard under the denim of his pants. A fierce thrill shot up through me. I seemed to lift several inches in the air, transported by the energy crackling around us – all desire, unmistakable, unstoppable.

I touched the side of his cheek. Felt the hardness of his cheekbone, his skin–melting warmth. He tilted his head downward to meet my hand, opened his mouth to catch my index finger, taking it inside his mouth, slowly sucking the length of it, finishing with a short lick at the tip with his tongue.

There was nothing in my mind now, but a blind desire. I took my hand behind his head, to the base of his skull, my fingers curling through his thick, soft hair and pulled his head downward hard toward me, so that I could put my mouth where I wanted it – on his. His lips pressed down on mine, hard at first, like the relief of a satisfied hunger. Then softly, moving slightly, barely brushing mine, slightly parted.

His arms came around my back, pulling me tighter to him, compressing my breasts hard into his chest, nothing between us but the thin layers of our clothing. We rushed headlong into the heat and inevitability of the kisses – our lips together, his tongue coming out to trace the edge of my lip, then to lightly lick the soft wet inner part. I took a deep sudden breath, as I felt him press his pelvis into mine, his hips moving forward, tensing, grinding – it was all hardness, softness and warmth in a delirious sensation of soft, sweet wetness. His mouth and mine, meeting, pulling away briefly, only to meet again, with ever more urgency.

His hands went down, around my hips, to my thighs, beneath my skirt, which was now hiked up around the top of my legs, then in one swift, sudden motion he grasped me with both hands under my ass, and hoisted my body up onto him to balance on his thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist. He held me tight there as he took a breath, and buried his head into my neck, almost gasping. "We can't stay here like this, a car just went by." I let myself fall into him as he pulled me higher onto him. I clasped my arms around his neck as he steadied himself, my feet locking together around the small of his back, wrapped tightly onto him, His strong hands and arms supporting my sleight weight, holding me to him as he walked back to the van, finally propping us against the side, away from the road.

"What about…" I asked. "Don't worry, he's a sound sleeper," he answered, breathing heavily. I was beyond caring, anyway, as he was now pulling my arms out of my shirt, lifting it over my head to reveal my breasts, with nipples hard, under the thin camisole. He pushed the camisole fabric upward over my breasts, and bent down to suck, first one, then the other, tracing his tongue in circles around the nipples. I was in an agony of delight with the feel of his mouth and tongue. Trembling, I thought my legs would fail me, but he kept me propped up with the force of his hands and thighs, lifting me to my tiptoes. I pressed my pelvis upward towards his, moving up and down, my body opening to him, wanting him to be in me – but wanting the exquisite agony of his touch to go on forever.

My hands traveled the surface of his back, snaked down the sides, to his waist. His thighs pressed into me, his cock hard inside his jeans, forcing me into the sidewall of the van. I lifted myself up to meet him – how much longer could I go without him in me? I couldn't bear it. My hands went inside his shirt, found his smooth naked skin, felt his arms, his back, warm and hard. Then his thighs, tensed, hard beyond hard, my hands traveled down the length of them. And finally to the front, pulling at his belt, tugging at the leather, finding the end and pulling it free. Now the button, now the zipper, as he kissed my hair, my neck, my shoulders, my breasts.

Then he reached suddenly down and yanked my panties off me, so that I was free and dripping – waiting for him to come into me. His cock was out of his jeans and in my hands, the fierceness, the hardness of it made me catch my breath, as he lowered himself down, so that I could let him enter me. I cried out as soon as I felt it touch me, the sweetness, the throbbing inside my pussy almost unbearable, as I spread my legs and lowered myself onto him, so that he filled me completely. My legs were rigid with the effort of standing. His arms were strong and tight around me, holding me up off the ground, as he moved inside me, groaning, breathing hard into my ears. He sucked my neck as he thrust.

Then back to my lips kissing, kissing hard, then my nipples, cupping my breasts, biting and sucking so that I felt the blood rushing impossibly, throbbing hard throughout my entire being. I thrust my pelvis into him harder and harder as I knew I couldn't hang on any longer. Waves and waves of pleasure pulsated through my entire body as I pounded against him, wanting him deeper and deeper in me. Arching my mound into his pelvic bone, my pelvis tilting into his to feel the exquisite pleasure of coming with him still hard inside me, my pussy tightening around his thick cock. He groaned as he listened to my involuntary cries.

"Oh god, not so loud, baby – he doesn't sleep that soundly," he gasped. Then he lost himself in his own pleasure, grabbed me fiercely around my ass, pulling me hard onto his cock as he thrust up against me, pounding me into the side of the van. I went along for his ride, rising up with him. Pinpoints of desire starting up again like pricks all over my body, wanting him deeper and deeper in me as he filled me to the core again. He came, flooding my insides with his heat, releasing a low groan and a long exhalation of breath, his hard breathing, his mouth next to my ear, panting, kissing my hair. Finally both of us drenched, standing against the van, panting. Our legs barely able to support us. We stood there and breathed together.

Consciousness returned for both of us as we heard a car go by on the road. We both laughed gently as we realized what a ridiculous position we were in, half-naked on a highway, leaning up against a van, with a man sleeping inside.

He gave me a long, lingering kiss, then stroked my hair, winding the curls around his fingers, smiling as he murmured, "I guess we'd better hit the road."