The Motorcycle Diaries: Stranded
© 2020 by Mojavejoe420
Fuck
.
Utah is full of assholes.
I stood there on the side of the road with my motorcycle parked, helmet on the seat. I smiled and waved at the cars and RVs that didn't come by very often, but nobody stopped. Some kids in a camper waved back, but that's been about it.
I guess they don't get too many black people up in here.
I drank all my water and the heat kept heating. I cursed myself again. The guidebook said this Escalante Staircase thing was an amazing sight, and it was. But it also wasn't traveled very heavily. And as hot as it was now, it was going to get cold when the sun went down. I wiped some beads of sweat from my forehead.
Fuck
.
I didn't think I looked too intimidating. I'm just at six feet, dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. I got a great smile and my moms thinks I look like Denzel. Nobody else thinks that, but I don't mind. I do have some ink, maybe that was throwing everyone off.
I heard a vehicle approaching, so I grabbed my empty water bottle and held it upside down. From around the corner, this RV approached at slow speed. It's a dirt/gravel road so nobody goes too fast except Jeeps and jacked up trucks. That's been a lot of fun when they came by and dusted me. This RV is one of those medium-sized ones with a van front end. Not a supersized bus style, but still a pretty decent size.
As it came into view, I held up my empty water bottle, gave a little wave, tried to put on my best
can a brother get some water
face... and they slowed down!
The driver, a white guy who didn't actually look all that old, and his wife who actually looked pretty good, waved at me and pulled slowly past my bike. It's like they were being careful not to kick up too much dust on me.
The RV gave me some welcome shade. I walked up just as the guy opened the door. He had what looked like a cold bottle of water in his hand.
"Drink up, young man, then we'll talk."
I gave him a big ass smile and chugged half the water. The cold liquid radiated chillness through my chest, about the greatest feeling in the world right now. I took a couple breaths and drank the rest of the water.
"Ahh!" I exhale. "Thank you, thank you. I needed that."
"I'm Morgan Bradley," he said as he stepped out of his rig, his wife right behind him. "And this is Jennifer."
"I'm Dante, it's great to meet you guys."
I really tried not to stare at Jennifer. She was a little thing but, oh, what a tight little frame she had. Her hot little bubble butt was trapped in some tight shorts and her tits looked like they were trying to escape her white top. I liked the way her cleavage jiggled at me, she was all natural. Big tits on a small body.
Damn
. But the best thing about her was her smile, it just made me feel welcome.
"Brokedown, huh?" Morgan was talking to me. "How long you been out here?"
"Yeah, it just cut out on me like, two or three hours ago. I ain't a mechanic, I don't know what its problem is. It made some clanking noise in the motor, though. And I got no cell service out here."
Jennifer pulled out her phone. "Me either, nothing."
Mr. Bradley bent down near the engine, so I did too. He tugged at a couple wires, then pushed on them. "Wires seem connected, You're not just out of gas, are ya?" He unscrewed the cap and saw that no, I'm not
that
stupid.
He stood up and looked me over like he was making a decision about something. Probably like,
can I trust this black boy?
He checked his phone, too.
"Just checking out the map... Honey, why don't you go whip something up."
Whip something up
, that sounded good. After a long minute in the heat, he seemed to arrive at a conclusion.
"Let's go inside and have a bite to eat, and we'll talk about our options."
"Sounds good, Mr. Bradley ."
He laughed and shook his head. "Just Morgan, okay?" He opened the door for me and held his hand out in an
after you
kind of way.
I walked up the three steps into the cool interior... and stopped... not believing my eyes.
Miss Jennifer stood stark naked, standing at a small counter and making sandwiches. I know my mouth dropped open, I didn't know what to say, or do. Morgan's voice sounded out from below me.
"Go on in, son. She's just following the rules. When the vehicle is parked, she must be naked. Go have a seat at the table."
I made my way to the dinette and started to sit down.
"Uh, Dante. Other side, so you can see her. Don't you want to see her?"
I slid into the comfortable swivel chair, feeling very uneasy about this. Were these people going to kidnap me? Was I going to be their sex slave? Why did I leave my knife at the bike? I should always have it on me! I could take this guy, though. No doubt I could. Unless he drugged me.
"Son, you can leave at any time. I won't stop you, you're our guest."
From my seat, I got an excellent profile view of Jennifer as she sliced some tomatoes. Her perfect ass showed no lines or wrinkles, no cellulite as it protruded outwards. Her thin arms contrasted with her large, proud breasts. They were tipped with very light pink areola and good sized nipples. I couldn't see her face, though, and she hadn't looked at me since I came in. She was so warm and welcoming outside, and... now she won't speak to me?
"Get us some beers, Jen, would ya?"
She went to the fridge and brought out a couple of Pliny the Elders in large bottles. I had only heard of this beer from the internet, never encountered one in Baltimore. She walked slowly towards us, head down, one foot directly in front of the other. That made her hips sway and her tits jiggle.
When she set them down, Morgan spoke softly to her. "Jen, honey. Don't be shy, you're pretty."
Her face burned a deep red blush, even going down her neck to the top of her chest. Her nipples looked hard as little rocks. My eyes met hers, soft pools of hazel, and some flecks of gold. She fought to hold my gaze, her eyes darting away but then returning. She rested her hands on the table and fiddled with the edge, not knowing what to do. I don't think I'd ever met anyone as beautiful as her.
"And the sandwiches, too, hon. That's a good girl."
She returned with foot-long French bread sandwiches for us men and a much shorter one for herself. She sat next to Morgan, across from me. Her face still glowed red from shame. Morgan took a huge bite of his sandwich like nothing unusual was happening.
What the fuck.
I took a bite of mine. Turkey, ham, salami, spicy cheese, lettuce, ranch dressing, everything. I half-closed my eyes as I enjoyed the lunch. It felt so good in here, I was almost chilly from the AC.
"Where you headed, Dante? Where did you come from? Your plates say South Carolina."
I talked with my mouth half full. It's rude, I know, but I was starving.
