Early Morning Ride

This story is based on fact. Of course, parts have been...romanticized for effect, but the circumstances under which the two characters meet and proceed are factual.

*

High beams penetrated the thick night air, illuminating all around her and casting a shadow forth for the first time since the sun had set. The hissing and squealing of massive breaks being locked split the silence. The soothing purr of a diesel engine gently vibrated the earth beneath the eighteen-wheeler.

A girl sat in the grass beside the road- calmly holding her knees to her chest, staring off into the trees that lined the street. Largely undisturbed by the mechanical raucous occurring a few yards away from her, she emitted an eerie aura of displacement: no girl belongs lounging by a busy road at 3am.

At least it was usually busy. Not now. Not on this night. It was dead; not a soul for miles. It was for this exact reason that Lawrence thought she was helpless-or maybe it was suspicious. He was too busy halting his truck to decide.

His silhouette stepped into the glow of the headlights and strode cautiously toward her.

"Hey! You alright?" he strained to yell over the idle engine.

An unusually beautiful face turned slowly toward him. He paused momentarily a few feet from her, startled by the directness of her gaze. Nothing made sense about the scene: she could simply be bait for a group hiding in the woods waiting to attack him. Shaking the apprehension, he cleared his throat, and repeated himself, holding his hands out in front of him as if he were approaching an injured doe.

"Miss, are you alright?"

She loosened her arms from her knees and dropped her hands into her lap carelessly. A childish, playful smile ignited her face and her straight, pearly teeth added a new dimension to her appearance.

"Are YOU alright?"

Lawrence felt his heartbeat speed up, why would she ask him if he were alright? Instantly he wondered if he'd made a mistake pulling over. Maybe she was high and completely whacked out of her mind on drugs. Almost as if she could read his concerned expression even though he only appeared as a shadow, she released a gentle laugh.

"You're the one who seems upset. You stopped your truck... and your hands are shaking."

Embarrassed, he pulled his outstretched hands toward his body, letting them hang limply beside his thighs. Searching for an appropriate response to her odd line of questioning, he said nothing.

Carefully, as if she thought she would break if she moved too quickly, the girl rose from her seat, adjusting her low-rise jeans and black tank top, and brushing the seat of her pants. She never removed her eyes from where she assumed his were, and he observed her actions in silence.

His concern diminished quickly as he watched her move; watched her eyes glued to him as if he were the only living thing for miles. His chest began to ache. He hadn't made a mistake stopping, and they both knew it. She released a soft sigh and smiled again.

As she stepped gracefully over the curb and onto the grainy asphalt, he noticed that she was wearing black stilettos that enclosed everything but a glimpse of well-manicured toes. They reminded him of the late 1950s, and he remembered his mother wearing a similar pair years ago. The sound of the pencil-thin heel scraping against the road sent a strange chill down his spine.

"And no, I am not 'alright,'" she said plainly, flipping her dark auburn hair over an exposed, pale shoulder. She smiled sheepishly and slowly blinked her eyes, "I'm lost. I need a ride."

"Well, I have a cell phone if there's someone you'd like to call," His stomach quickly turned to knots and he swallowed hard. As desperately as he wanted her to climb into the truck with him, he felt it was important to make her feel like she had options.

She reacted to his suggestion as if he were an idiot: scrunching up her nose and rolling her eyes playfully.

"If I had someone to call, don't you think I would've done it by now?" She reached into her small black purse and pulled out a cell phone in a pink, sparkly case. It dangled between them for a moment, and there was silence.

"You'll give me a ride, won't you? I mean, you were nice enough to stop and investigate my plight, so you might as well go through with the whole 'good Samaritan' routine, right?" She tilted her head slightly, flashing a convincing smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," he hesitated, "Yeah, I'll do it."

The passenger door creaked loudly as he swung it open. She stood behind him patiently, and then held out a slender hand daintily, indicating that she needed him to help her into the cabin. Her smooth palm pressed down against his with only a slight pressure, as if she were weightless. It was obvious from the cool temperature of her skin that she'd been outside for hours in the early morning chill. As she passed him and climbed up into the seat, he caught a whiff of lavender perfume.

As he circled around to the driver's side, his mind was racing. He'd given rides to stranded people before, but this one was different for any number of obvious reasons.

"I've never been inside one of these before," she leaned forward and patted the dashboard as he adjusted himself in his seat. "There's a lot of stuff to look at. How do you know what's what?"

"Just do," he didn't know what else to say.

Everything bounced and lurched forward and they began to move.

"So where're you headed?" He was pleased with himself for managing more than a few words.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing!" She giggled. "I've always wondered where these big trucks are going all night. Do you go from city to city? State to state?"

"A little of both, really," he listened carefully as she continued to speak, carrying their conversation further and further from his original question.

"So what's your name?" She turned her whole body to face him, and he suddenly felt her big blue eyes burning into his unshaven profile.

"Lawrence," he smiled, glancing over at her beaming face. Her excited energy was beginning to calm him. She turned to sit back. He ran his right hand through his graying hair.

"Well, Lawrence, I'm Lily." She stated her name definitively, as if her title were a simple, universal fact.

"That's a pretty name," he said sincerely. He squinted his eyes a little, wondering why he hadn't guessed such a girl would be named after a flower.

"Thanks," she heaved a fulfilled sigh. "A lovely night for Lily and Lawrence," she glanced over at him. They made eye contact and he noticed that she licked her lips subtly and then bit down softly on her lower lip. "That's alliteration- all those L's."

There was a pause after she spoke. He decided to use the moment to try and return to his original question, hoping to keep himself focused on the conversation at hand.

"You never did tell me where it was you needed to go."

"You're headed in the right direction."

There was another pause. They made eye contact again, and her inviting expression absorbed him. She silently refused to break her gaze first, and, rather than choke on the tension that was quickly filling the small cabin, he resorted to a different line of questioning.

"How'd you end up out there, anyways? If you don't mind my asking."

"I went for a walk," she practically sang the words, though softly. He glanced down at her shoes and wondered if he should believe her. Before he had a chance to think about it, he chuckled and motioned at her feet.

"In those shoes? Well, girl, I'm not surprised you had to give up and sit down. I'm shocked you even got where you were to begin with. We're miles from everywhere right now! And you're just a kid, too. What are you doing wandering around at this time of night?" He looked at her and was greeted by an unfeeling, humorless expression. He choked on his laughter and returned his gaze to the road.

"Well, you're right, it's impractical." she said after a painful pause. "Let's not talk about that, though. Where're you headed? You never did tell me."

"Henderson," he was slightly agitated that the conversation had lapsed back onto him. "Now you tell me where you're going."

"Henderson," she echoed. "I'll get out of your hair once we get there. We're only about an hour away aren't we?"

"More like two, actually." He was still unsure of her motives. Unless you belong there, Henderson is far from a popular destination.

"Two hours," she said softly, almost to herself.

"Too long?"

"Oh no, no, no," she assured, turning her entire body towards him again. "You know, you look just like a neighbor I had growing up."

He glanced at her and smiled, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," she said slowly, "I was always so jealous of his wife. Are you married?"

"Not anymore. I was for a little while when I was closer to your age. It wasn't all it's cracked up to be. I prefer to be on my own."

"Is that why you drive a truck?"

He paused and thought for a moment. "I guess so. I never really thought about it like that."

"Well, then. There you go. Aren't you glad I've figured it out for you?" she laughed.

Turning to see the expression on her face, he instead caught her mid-stretch. She was quite a sight: her long, thin arms draped over the dark head rest, her back arched and her head thrown back picturesquely. A few inches of her smooth, white abdomen peered out from underneath her black shirt. As if she didn't think he'd notice, she let out a low, pleased moan through her slightly parted pink lips.

Her eyes had been closed, but she turned and opened them luxuriously, looking directly into his, like she knew he'd been watching the entire time.

"What?" she whispered. He barely heard her over the engine noises. Her gaze crept quickly up and down his body, then back to his eyes. "Am I distracting the responsible driver?"

A crooked smile danced across his face. He had no idea how to respond. Before he even had the chance to speak, the familiar lights of a gas station loomed on the horizon.

"Oh good," she let her arms drop into her lap, "Let's stop, I've got to use the bathroom."

Cursing to himself, he realized that he needed to do the same, as well as re-fuel. Without another word to each other, they pulled into the bright green station. She successfully let herself out of the cabin before he had a chance to help her, and he watched as she strode confidently towards the foggy glass doors of the convenient store.

She took her time, and he left the doors unlocked for her in case she came out before he did.

The cashier smiled knowingly as he paid for his fuel.

"S'at your daughter or sumthin'?" the man smiled, revealing a mouthful of rotting teeth stained from years of chewing tobacco and ignoring all forms of dental hygiene.

Answering without words to humor the simple man, Lawrence smiled slyly and winked, motioning toward the back of the store with his head. "Bathroom's that way?"

"Yessir." The cashier cackled and leaned forward on the countertop as Lawrence walked away.

The bathroom was like every other public facility: dirty yet attempting to smell clean with the assistance of cheap deodorizers and weak overhead fans. There was only one urinal, and the handle had been snapped off. Stuck carelessly above the fixture hung a poorly-written sign that read, "Broked. Use Stall."

Scrunching up his nose as he stepped into the tiny enclosure, he didn't bother locking the door behind him and simply pushed it shut with his foot as he unzipped his fly.

As soon as he started to relax and relieve himself he heard the heavy bathroom door squealing open.

"Someone's in here!" he shouted angrily. The image of the charmer at the cash register came to mind and he began to wish he'd thought to lock the stall.

The door slammed shut and everything was silent. His heart started to race as he cautiously zipped his pants and flushed the toilet. Though he heard nothing, he felt the presence of another body in the room.

He pulled the stall door open gingerly and stepped out as fast as he could, practically swinging himself around the stall wall and out into the open area of the bathroom.

Lily stood in front of the heavy door, smiling enticingly with both her hands behind her back, resting on the door handle.

"Boo," she said in a breathy voice, taking a few long strides toward him. Her high heels echoed in the small, tiled room.

He stood perfectly still, his back against the outer wall of the stall, the toilet still slurping away at its last few drops of water. The space between them gradually decreased until her torso practically rested against his; her face tilted upwards expectantly.

Those eyes of hers were now more noticeable in the buzzing fluorescent lights than they had been in the glow of his headlights. Dark brown eye makeup cradled and accentuated their grayish-blue color; her pouting lips implored him to give her whatever she wanted.

"Lawrence and Lily," she whispered, rolling her tongue with the "L" sounds. She raised her arms and wrapped them loosely around his neck, obliterating the last ray of light between them. Consistent with her behavior throughout the night, her eyes never left his.

With one continuous motion, she released her hold and delicately ran her palms over his shoulders and down his chest, followed by his abdomen. Hooking her fingers into the waistline of his pants, she rested her hands there for a moment before she tugged and he was thrown slightly off-balance.

"Aw! Don't let my manly strength overpower you," she giggled, pulling her hips back to his. Her lips were now dangerously close, and he bit down on his own as if to fight the urge.

"Your 'manly strength?'" he laughed, reaching out abruptly and grasping her hips and grinding into her. She gasped loudly, and he watched with delight as her eyelids fluttered momentarily. A look of satisfaction lit up her face.

Pivoting quickly, he swung her around and pressed her back firmly into the synthetic wood of the stall. Pushing her legs apart with his knees, he reached down, sliding his hands beneath her thighs and bouncing her up onto his hips. Looking both stunned and pleased, she began to smile enormously, hugging him trustingly.

"Girl, you scared me," he joked, shaking her slightly. "I thought I was gonna have to come out throwing punches."

"Sorry. Do you hate me?"

Her eyes burned into his, shifting slightly as she looked from one eye to the other, as if searching for something.

Unable to control himself any longer, he took a deep breath.

And then he kissed her.

Her lips were soft, and responded to his with an electricity he'd never experienced. She released a feathery whimper, accommodating every move he made with alluring hospitality. Her grip around his neck tightened, and he felt her thighs compressing his midsection with a gentle pressure.

Her tongue moved with his as if it had been waiting for this moment for ages, dancing with a certainty that relaxed and inflamed him all at once. He slid one of his hands behind her thin neck and grabbed a handful of her auburn hair, pulling her tongue deeper into his mouth. She moaned loudly, and he felt her go slightly limp.

"Put me down," she barely pulled away to whisper, her muffled words buzzing against his lips.

Carefully he released her thighs and she removed her arms from his neck, dropping her hands back down to his waist. Concentrating for only a moment, she began to feverishly unbuckle his belt before giving into his grip on her neck and kissing him once more.

Switching places again, she pushed his back against the stall wall with a rattling thud, giggling girlishly as she quickly unzipped his pants without looking. No sooner had she dropped them than he pushed her head downwards, her fingers still tugging at his dirty jeans.

She melted into his forceful action, crouching down and balancing successfully on her famous high heels. He caught a glimpse of her bedroom eyes gazing up at him as he watched her nimble fingers grab hold of his straining cock and press her moist lips lovingly against the head.

Dallying for only a moment, she practically inhaled the entire length of his erection into her mouth and throat, tilting her head back slightly to welcome it all. His eyes squinted closed out of sheer reflex, and he dropped his head lazily back against the wall, growling like a bear.

He shifted his hand from her neck to the back of her head, and he grasped her hair tightly and pushed her head down and up his shaft repeatedly. She moved exactly the way he wanted and needed her to, curtailing unquestioningly to his commanding hand like a faithful slave.

Utilizing everything she had, she ran her fingers up and down in conjunction with her tongue, which circled playfully around the tip, lingering in particular spots when he moaned.

"Mmm," she would hum in response, curling her lips tightly around his cock's perfect circumference. Even with her mouth full, he could feel her smiling.

The ecstatic first waves of his orgasm ignited deep within his belly, and then shot to the tips of his fingers and toes almost instantaneously. Just when he thought she couldn't possibly fit any more of him down her throat, she managed to nestle the last few pivotal centimeters of his cock in the muscles of her esophagus, absorbing every drop of his fluid as it was released.

Her nails dug gently into his thighs as he came, partly to support his trembling legs, but also out of her own sheer arousal at the sights, sounds, and tastes of his climax.

She stayed glued to him until the last of his muscle spasms. Holding his eyes closed weakly, he felt her rise from her crouching position and shivered as she softly pressed her face into his neck and planted a series of airy, sensuous kisses on his sweaty skin.

"I want to go back to the truck," she said in a hushed voice, as if she were telling him her deepest secret. Her fingertips traced the fading blue outlines of the tattoos on his forearms as she spoke.

Nodding slowly with a twisted smile on his face, he stood still as she helped him situate his pants, buckling his belt into position as if it had never been moved. Tucking her index finger behind the buckle, she led him towards the door. She paused for a brief moment to check herself in the grimy mirror before kicking the door open forcefully, as if in some violent protest against using the handle like everyone else.

She winked at the chuckling man behind the counter, and Lawrence wondered for a moment if she hadn't let the man in on her plan to startle him in the restroom.

The early morning air was moist and heavy as they strode quickly across the parking lot; her thin fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist as she led the way. The change of scenery had revitalized him, and he now followed her with his heart racing in anticipation. Her hair bounced against her bare shoulders, still tussled from where he'd gripped it in his hand only moments ago. A thin strip of glowing skin peered out from between the bottom hem of her shirt and her jeans that sat low on her jutting hips.

She spun around when they made it to the passenger door, a loose curl sticking to her glossy lips before she brushed it away and slung her arms around his neck.

"What'd you think?" she smiled flirtatiously hanging on him as he unlocked the door.

"Oh, about the blowjob? It was alright," he joked as she pretended to be shocked and offended.

"Well, if you didn't like it, then I'll never do it again, that's just fine!" she laughed.

"Naw. You just need some more practice, that's all."

The door squealed as it opened, and she pulled him into another feverish kissing spell as she climbed up backwards- awkwardly- but completely devoted to keeping her lips to his.

Together, they clamored through the discolored curtain and fell in a tangled heap on the unyielding excuse for a mattress in the tiny cabin. Only a glimmer of the yellow lights that oversaw the parking lot filtered in through the gap in the curtains.