The Hitchhier

She walked slowly along the side of Route 65, keeping her thin body just off the asphalt. The full moon gave her enough light to see by but she knew the way so well by now, she could walk it blind. Hunger gnawed at her. She needed to eat. It had been days.

Finally, the lights of a car glimmered on the trees in front of her and she turned, extending her thumb, hoping for a ride. The pickup slowed after it passed her. She grinned as she looked in the window. "I really need a ride."

The man, about 40ish, thinning hair, average build, leered at her. "Hop in," he said, "Where ya headed?"

She climbed into the truck. It smelled of stale potato chips and beer and who knows what else. "Bridgeport," she said.

He started off down the road. "What the hell's in Bridgeport?"

"Solitude."

He glanced over at her as often as was safe on the thin winding road. The moonlight showed enough to raise his interest beyond a casual conversation. A tight blue T-shirt hugged her breasts and her nipples were clear, even in the dim light. Her slender legs were encased in a pair of tattered skinny jeans. She lifted a foot up to the dashboard and he caught the curve of her ass. Her short black hair highlighted her incredibly pale skin, or maybe that was just the moonlight. He wanted her. But he was enough of a gentleman to at least pretend to be civil. She let him look. She knew what he wanted and she knew what she wanted. Sometimes, she thought, it was just too easy.

As they approached the town limits, she would glance over at him and let her lips curl to a grin. Once, she briefly played with a nipple. His hands flexed on the steering wheel. She was getting to him.

"This is Bridgeport, doll. Where to exactly?"

"The train depot on Ninth Street."

He looked at her. "Train depot? I didn't know the train stopped here anymore."

She only grinned again and said, "It's a quiet place. I thought, maybe we could get better acquainted and I could thank you for the lift." The implication was crystal clear.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, and drove directly to the deserted station. He was correct, of course. The train didn't stop there. Bridgeport existed only for the few families left. The only activity on these tracks was an express freight that blew through twice a day.

She leaned over to him as they stopped and placed her hand on his crotch. He jumped. "Eager, honey?" he asked, smiling.

"You have no idea," she responded, giving him a squeeze.

"Well, then," he said, pushing his seat back and working his belt loose, "Let's get started."

She let him push his own pants down. Once he was exposed, she wrapped a hand around him and felt the blood pumping in, filling his shaft. Patience, she thought, patience. She leaned over the seat and ran her tongue over the head. He groaned and relaxed back in the seat, fully releasing himself to her control.

Within a few minutes of licking and teasing, he was rock hard and pre-cum was oozing from the tip. She took him into her mouth and sucked long and hard. "Damn, girl. Trying to suck the life outta me?"

She withdrew him and giggled. "It's the only way to go, baby," she teased. She continued stimulating him with her mouth, trying to bring him to the edge.

Ten minutes passed before he finally said, "You better slow down there, honey."

She pulled back, allowing his cock to pop from her mouth. "Wanna go inside?"

He looked at the old station. "In there?" he asked incredulously.

"Yep. Got a mattress. More room," she said, running her fingers over his sack.

At any other time, he would have said 'no'. But how could he deny this young thing her fun? What's more, how could he deny himself now? What difference would it make if he fucked her in the station? In fact, it would mean less mess in the truck. His cock throbbed in her hand. "Yeah, let's go."

She led him to a side door and opened the padlock by simply pulling it. "No one ever bothers it. It's deserted," she said as they stepped in. Moonlight streamed through the transom windows above the boarded-up plate glass. He could make out a small desk and chair, a simple chest of drawers and a mattress. As his eyes got used to the dim, light, she stripped behind him. He turned to her as he heard her jeans hit the floor. She was shockingly beautiful: pale skin, dark areolae on her firm breasts. Her slender waist flared to her alluring hips. She walked right past him lay back on the mattress, legs parted. He saw that she was shaved. Her pink labia peeking from the mound.

He wasted no time in discarding his clothing and moving in between her legs. His lips went straight to her breasts, kissing and suckling. She let him, even though she wanted it to end, she knew the build-up was important.

She felt him shift and his lips kissed her skin downward, over her taut belly. She opened her legs wider for him and he wasted no time in licking her. She wondered what he would say about her flavor. She knew it was unusual, not bad, just different. He looked up at her. "Damn, girl, you are one sexy bitch."

She grinned, this time showing some teeth. "Eat me." And she pressed his head to her. He obliged with his willing tongue, lapping and licking like a puppy dog. She felt herself responding to him, getting ready for the consummation, the feast.

She could have stood a few minutes more, but he was too needy. She felt his body shift again and she watched him move up and felt him rubbing the head over her pussy. "I'm going to fuck you good, little one," he boasted.

"We shall see," she responded right before he plunged his cock into her. After all these years, she was still as tight as the first time. Damn, she thought, I love this existence.

He groaned as he pressed in. "Fuck! Are you a virgin or something?"

"Far from it." She grabbed his naked ass and pulled him into her. His length sunk to his balls. He withdrew a few inches and pressed in again. By this time, she was very wet and receptive. "Fuck me," she snarled.

He was surprised by her guttural voice but gave it no further thought as he started to set-up a rhythm of long hard strokes. She lay back, letting her body feel alive. Soon, she thought, very soon.

His fucking grew more intense. Her body jerked into the mattress each time he drove in. She could smell the others, now, lingering scents from past meals. The aroma drove her closer. Without warning, he pulled out and roughly flipped her over, pulling her hips up so that she was on her knees. She felt the head at her opening, then she felt him sink it in deep. He went right back to his driving rhythm. She could feel his sack slapping her lips. At least this one can fuck, she thought. I would be a pity to lose him, another one. Compassion, my weakness. With her face in the mattress, the past swirled around her. Men, women. All so eager for release yet never suspecting. Maybe they are the Lucky Ones.

She came back to the present and realized that he was close. She pushed him back and off.

"What the f--"

"I want to ride you. Lay back."

"Yes, ma'am." he said, laying back with a smile on his face as she positioned herself over him, guiding his cock to her as she pressed her hips down. His cock again disappeared into her cunt. She loved this part. Watching him reach orgasm, timing it so that the releases would be perfect. She knew that the closer the events, the longer the effects.

As he neared, she leaned down close to his face. His panting breath smelled of beer. She smiled wider and he finally saw them, her fangs glinted a reflection of the moonlight. His face reflected confusion and horror. She smiled even more, opening her mouth in a primeval growl.

He was too close to stop, even if he could stop. Her fucking was unrelenting, driving down on him, gripping his cock like a fist. "Fuck! I'm going to cum, I'm going to --"

At his words, she leaned down to kiss his neck. Her lips touched the tender flesh above the carotid artery. She was so hungry, he was so unsuspecting. It wasn't a fair fight, she thought. She hesitated. He took advantage of her pause and released in violent spurts, cumming deep inside her. The moment she felt his first spasm, she sunk her fangs into his shoulder. His groans of ecstasy became a howl of pain and fear.

Her orgasm rode over his. Her body shuddered even as she sucked blood from the wound. The combination of the orgasm and the shock of being bitten made him pass out. She fed some more, then flopped back on the mattress, blood dripping down her chin and cheek.

I must be the only compassionate vampire in existence, she thought, which would explain why I'm always hungry. She turned on her side to watch him breathing. The wound on his shoulder already healing and fading. He'll think it was a nightmare.

She easily lifted his limp body up and place him in the driver's seat of the truck. The rumble of the freight will wake him up, and by then she'd be long gone. She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, confused by her unnatural affection for humans. Within a minute, all that remained was a man sleeping it off in a truck, and a solitary bat, hanging on the train depot eave.