CHAPTER ONE: HEADING WEST ... WITH A HITCH
Cori Banks looked out the window of the jet, watching her past life in little Darien, Georgia, and her job at the Hard Body Shop slip away. She hoped to get back someday soon. She loved her co-workers, Ben, John and Ty, with whom she had developed a unique working relationship. She had worn sexy clothes for them and fucked them all on a regular basis. Other than the sex, they treated her like a family member -- always caring for her, protecting her, making her feel special. They were like family and she missed them already.
But her real family -- her step-dad -- needed her now. He was living just outside San Diego, a far cry from Georgia. He was sick and needed someone to care for him. Cori's mother had left him long ago and Cori had never forgiven her. Even though Cori was 15 before he met and married her mother, she always got along well with Norm. They were never particularly close -- she was so busy with cheerleading and gymnastics and he was busy with his restaurant -- that they never spent lots of time together, but he was always nice and Cori had developed an affection for him. He was certainly more of a father than her real dad. Still Cori, now 22, hadn't seen him for three years, since he moved to San Diego after the divorce.
She knew he ran a truck stop with a partner somewhere around San Diego, but that was about it. She hadn't heard from him in over a year, then out of the blue, she got a call from Chuck, his business partner. Her 62-year-old step-dad had suffered a moderate stroke. He was going to be all right, but he had lost some movement in his right side and struggled to get around. Cori knew he was alone with no family other than her and her cheating mother. He had no one to help him run errands, do chores, change clothes or bathe. And his truck stop was hurting and he had neither the ability or the means to help. Even though he wasn't flesh and blood, Cori's heart went out to him. She felt for him and knew it was up to her to help. It was a tough decision to make to leave Georgia, but she had no choice. She couldn't live with herself if she didn't go.
In some ways, Cori was looking forward to it. The last two years of her life had been mostly about sex. Cori liked it and was good at it and, well, she was made for it. She was 5-6, 120 pounds with an all-natural 36C-22-34 body. She had natural blonde hair just past her shoulders, blue eyes, a pert nose, full lips and a pretty white smile. She was what the guys liked to call a hard body -- firm and fit all over. Those big breasts sat up high on her chest and seemed to defy gravity with or without a bra. She had long, rubbery nipples that were quite sensitive and usually at least semi-erect. Her firm ass was perfectly round and tight and her pussy was a moist slice of perfection, with puffy pink lips and a carefully trimmed blonde tuft of hair. She had magnificent legs that were toned from hours of exercise. She had a deep, healthy looking all-over tan. She had a pierced navel and a tiny red heart tattooed on her left ass cheek.
This fantastic body had been put to the test many times, as she often was fucked anywhere from 3 to 10 times a day. Her fitness, flexibility and stamina were essential to keeping up with the high demand on her body. So, in a way, she was looking forward to a break from some of that. She wouldn't have to have sex all the time or even look sexy. What a change of pace that would be.
Even dressed in normal clothes, Cori could turn heads. But, of course, her attire at the Hard Body Shop had been anything but normal. Thongs, bikinis, hot pants, lingerie and the like comprised her wardrobe. She seldom wore anything else. She hadn't realized how comfortable she had become in those clothes until she went to pack for San Diego and realized she had almost no "normal" attire left.
Not knowing how long she'd be gone or what she might need, she had decided to take most of it. The only panties she had were thongs or bikini panties and she had just one pair of tennis shoes -- everything else was high heels. She had no bras whatsoever (the guys had burned them all during a cookout one night). She had no long pants -- seldom needed them in Georgia and probably wouldn't in San Diego either. All of her shorts were extremely short and extremely tight -- the guys always bought clothes for her that were at least one or two sizes too small. She had no standard blouses or sweaters. She had an ample assortment of tube tops, crop tops, halter tops, low cut blouses and half-sweaters. All of her dresses were minis, often backless or with huge slits up the sides. Her skirts were also minis. She had plenty of thigh-high stockings and a wardrobe full of lingerie and catsuits. She had some fantasy outfits, like French maid, schoolgirl and cheerleader costumes. She had tons of bikinis and skimpy workout clothes.
She knew she probably wouldn't wear most of this stuff in San Diego, but since it was all she had and none of it took up much room, she packed a wide assortment in two bags with plans to normalize her wardrobe once she reached San Diego. Ben was going to send out some of her bulkier items -- like her immense assortment of heels -- separately. But Cori hoped she wouldn't need most of it. It would be fun to shop for some new clothes.
Cori had settled on some red heels, daisy duke shorts and a white tank top for her trip but was thinking about her shopping spree when the pilot came over the intercom. "May I have your attention please. We are experiencing some mechanical problems and are going to have to land in Houston. There is no reason for alarm. But we wanted to make you aware of this unscheduled stop and apologize for the inconvenience."
Cori didn't really mind that much. She was comfortable and relaxed. The plane was only half full and she had a row to herself. It was quiet and peaceful. Again, a nice change.
They landed in Houston about 20 minutes later and about 30 minutes after that the pilot instructed everyone that they would have to get off the plane. "Sorry," the captain said, "but it turns out some repairs are needed. We will re-route you on another flight as soon as possible."
Cori got off and went to the ticket counter. The next flight to San Diego was already full and there wouldn't be another one until tomorrow. "But," the man at the counter said, dropping his eyes to her slender waist, "I'll be happy to set you up with a place to stay tonight. Free, if you don't mind a little company." Cori was so disgusted she walked away. To hell with the airlines. She'd rent a car instead.
She knew she sent off a sexy, slutty vibe with her body and the way she dressed, so she understood why men were often aggressive in their advances toward her. That wasn't generally the case inside the little town of Darien where everyone knew everyone and Cori's position at the shop was understood -- if not always approved of. But she wasn't in Darien anymore and Cori's hard body and sexy little outfit had men stopping just to watch her walk. Frustrated at the delays and leering eyes, she moved quickly through the airport, her bags slung over her shoulders, her tits jiggling, her ass swaying oh-so-invitingly back and forth as her long legs and high heels strode out confidently. She was talking the talk in her head, but her body was certainly walking a different walk. If it looks like a slut and walks like a slut...Cori thought in her head. Well, she knew otherwise, even if they didn't.
Regardless of what anyone thought, sex figured to be the last thing she was involved in from now on. She'd dress normal, take care of her step-dad and get a normal job. It wouldn't be easy, but Cori thought the change would be good for her nonetheless.
Trying to save money, she rented the smallest, cheapest compact car they had and toted her bags out to the lot. It was about 6 o'clock and Cori figured she could drive for another two or three hours before stopping for the night and finishing her drive tomorrow. That was the plan. An hour later, the plan changed again.
The car sputtered, lurched and the engine went dead. Cori steered it safely to the side of the road, coasting to a stop. Steam started to roll out from under the hood and Cori knew she was in trouble. The last sign had said 34 miles to the next town. The last exit had been at least five miles back. Walking anywhere wasn't an option.
It was desolate stretch of highway. There was nothing but flat, open land all around. Very few cars were on the road so Cori did the only thing she could think to do. She stood in front of the car and held out her thumb, not that it mattered. Her tits, ass and legs were already sticking out, more than enough of a signal to any male passerby.
One car with what appeared to be a family passed her, but the next did not. It was an old pickup truck. There were two guys inside.
"Holy shit," the passenger exclaimed as they got close enough to see Cori alongside the road. "Look at that!"
"It's our lucky day!" the driver said, slamming on the breaks and pulling over.
"Hey babe, need a ride?" the passenger called out his window.
"Um, yeah, I guess so," Cori said, standing back away from the truck. "Do you know how to fix my car?"
