Picing up a Hitchhier

Author's Note:

Hello! Thank you for joining me for Part 2 of James and Taylor's adventure! In this edition of the story, you will see James become more and more obsessive, perverted, and intrusive in his pursuit of Taylor. As for Taylor, we will see her "sexual awakening," so to speak. She comes to realize that sex is a powerful tool that she can use to her advantage. She even begins to have a little fun with it.

- -

"You know," James says, glancing over at Taylor with a smirk as he pulls the Tesla on to the interstate. "I totally thought you were sucking his dick."

"Oh yeah?" Taylor asks, raising a brow in curiosity. She's feeling feisty from her nude photoshoot, and she can't help but to tease James a bit - it's in her nature; it always has been. "Do you think I could have gotten what I wanted by sucking his dick?"

"

Ohh yeah,

for sure!" James exclaims, over-enthusiastically. "You could have gotten

a lot

more than snacks, vodka, and a $15 car charge for a blowjob."

So the charge is less than I thought,

she realizes. Taylor glances down at his crotch and her eyes fall on the bulging head of his hard cock pressed against his jeans, protruding upward near his thigh. Although she has had suspicions of his arousal all morning, this is the most evident it has been.

"You think so?" Taylor continues, egging him on.

"Absolutely," James replies, shifting in his seat and pushing his erect cock back between his thighs, hoping Taylor didn't see it sticking up.

"Are blowjobs really

that

powerful?" She asks, already knowing the answer. She has used that power on men many times before - until Jake. She continues the charade, finding joy in the way James squirms. "Like, let's say I sucked your cock right now," She continues, watching him jolt in his seat at the thought of it. "What would that be worth to you?"

"Anything," James blurts out without hesitation. "Everything."

"Hmmm," Taylor responds, "good to know."

James swaps his right hand on the wheel for his left, dropping the right on to his thigh to better conceal his erection as he lets his eyes leave the road just long enough to make eye contact with Taylor. He shifts his gaze back and forth every so often between the road and Taylor.

"Maybe you should try it," he says, his heart pounding in his throat as the words leave his mouth.

At first, Taylor thinks he's asking her to suck his cock - right here and now.

That's pretty bold of him to--

"We're almost to Atlanta," James says, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm pretty hungry and I'm sure you must be as well." His eyes shift back to the road and back to her. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, shoulders stiff and tense as he finishes his thought. "I bet you could get us a free lunch with even a half-decent blowjob."

You want me to blow a stranger in exchange for food?

Taylor isn't sure what disturbs her more, the fact that James wants to whore her out, or the fact that thinking about going down on a random cock in the backseat of an unfamiliar car makes her clitoris tingle.

James has unlocked something inside of her - he has uncaged a demon that she has kept locked up since college; since before Jake. The kinky, sultry deviant that used to occupy her soul is swiftly taking over.

Taylor hasn't been that girl in

years.

The girl that got triple teamed by three frat boys. The girl that blew a bartender in a broom closet in order to clear a $100 tab. The girl that fucked a TA for a passing grade. The girl that once got fingered to completion in the back of a lecture hall -- Taylor thought that girl was dead when in fact, she was just locked away, awaiting her release.

James is the catalyst that sparked the flame, the breaker of her chains, and she just might go off the rails.

But why,

Taylor wonders,

do I still look at him like a father figure when he so desperately wants to fuck me?

She almost feels bad for James. She's remorseful of the fact that when this is all over, she's not going to give him the compassion he so clearly craves from her. But this is a two way street. Taylor believes that deep down, James already knows he can't have her. that is why he is encouraging her to...

open up

to other men. To live vicariously through them and the stories Taylor will presumably share of her exploits.

I scratch his itch, he delivers me to LA. Is that what this is?

Taylor has gone relatively silent after his proposition, and every moment without a response makes James regret his words more and more as his heart pounds harder and harder in his chest. He has a lump in his throat that he can't swallow. His fingers are tingling and going numb. His vision blackens. He can feel a cold sweat forming on his temples.

Did I fuck up?

SAY SOMETHING!

He screams the words, but only in his head. He's on the verge of a mental breakdown, a panic attack. He glances over at Taylor once more, just in time to see her shrug her shoulders as she says, "I could go for a burger."

Taylor turns her head in his direction and catches his eye, a devious grin spreading across her face. "Oh, and by the way, I give

excellent

blowjobs."

Or at least I used to,

she thinks to herself.

It's been a few years.

That last part -- her declaration of skill -- it's too much for James to handle. His eyes twitch into the back of his skull as his cock spits out a small bead of cum that he can feel clinging to his thigh and briefs. This girl just made him cum with just her

words.

Not a significant amount, just a small little bead of cum, but it happened nonetheless.

"Okay," James says, trying his best to remain calm despite the ringing in his ears and pounding in his chest and throbbing in his cock. "What, uhhh... what kind of burger?"

"There," Taylor responds, pointing at a blue interstate food sign that reads:

SONIC:

0.5 Miles

CHECKERS:

0.5 Miles

"Pull off here!" Taylor adds, speaking with urgency so they don't miss the exit.

James slams on the breaks and looks over his shoulder, swapping from the left lane to the right and decelerating so quickly that Taylor lurches forward in her seat, her seat belt pinching her hard between the breasts.

In typical 'fatherly' fashion, James instinctively throws out his right hand to protect Taylor, his hand landing square in her right breast. Before he can even register what he did, he feels her nipple dig into his palm. However, he's also still in the middle of a sharp exit and doesn't have time to think.

"Oh my gosh, James," Taylor exclaims as the car veers sharply off the interstate and on to the off ramp. "If you want to cop a feel, just ask next time." She grips his hand with both of hers and squeezes it against her tit before James pulls it away, turning red in the face.

"Sorry, I-- I just, I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," Taylor reassures him with a giggle.

Did she just squeeze her tit with my hand?

James wonders, in shock.

"It reminds me of my daddy," Taylor says, ruining the mood for James.

"Not the grabbing the boob part, but throwing out a protective arm," she adds.

Great,

James thinks with annoyance. He doesn't want her thinking of him like a father, he wants her to think of him like a

lover

as far-fetched of an idea as that may be.

"Except I'm sure your father would never encourage you to suck dick for food, right?" The comment has an obvious answer, but James needed to clarify the fact that he is

not

her father.

"Right," Taylor agrees.

A real father also wouldn't want to fuck me.

It takes a few minutes to get through the exit ramp intersection and traverse the three stoplights on the main strip between their exit and their destination. The Checkers and the Sonic are side-by-side, and James pulls the Tesla into the Checkers lot and moves at a crawl around the right side of the building.

"So how do you want to do this?" He asks her.

"I'm not really sure," Taylor replies nervously, sitting up tall in her seat and peering around the lot. "It's probably best to find some guy in his car, right? I mean, I would prefer not to solicit myself in a dingy Checkers bathroom."

"Right," James agrees. "Maybe Sonic would be a better bet, then?" The drive-up concept of Sonic definitely lends to a more favorable setting.

James pulls the car around the back of the building and parks facing Sonic. There's a curb separating the two lots, and this is as good a vantage point as any. Besides, he wouldn't want to pull the car up right next to the guy she's going to blow. Well, he might

want

to, but he certainly shouldn't.

He barely has the car in park when Taylor sticks out a finger, pointing at a car occupying the last booth on their side, facing them. It's an old, black and gold Pontiac Firebird. Too worn to be considered 'vintage,' yet still in fairly good condition.

"There

has

to be a guy in there, right?" Taylor asks, turning to look at James for reassurance.

"I would imagine so," James agrees. He squints his eyes and leans forward, trying to make out the shape occupying the driver's seat. "Yeah, definitely a guy. Looks younger-- well, younger than me, but older than you. Looks like he's alone too." James turns to look at Taylor, giving her a look that says,

This is it, this is your chance. Are you going to follow through?

"Okay," Taylor says in response to his silent stare. "I guess I'm up, then. Wish me luck."

With that, she swings open the passenger door and steps out of the car, stepping over the curb and jogging across the parking lot.

"

Good luck,

" James whispers under his breath after Taylor is already halfway across the lot. He watches as she walks up to the passenger window, bending over and cupping her hands around her eyes as she peers through the tinted glass, wrapping on it with her right fist and then waving in the window with a smile. Then she pulls on the door handle, failing the first time as it remains locked. The second try succeeds and the door swings open. James watches her disappear into the car and his heart skips with excitement.

Taylor plops down on the passenger seat as if it were completely normal to climb in a stranger's car at Sonic.

"Hey, sorry to bombard you like this, my name's Taylor!" She instantly works her charm on him, batting her lashes and giggling, making herself out to be cute, bubbly, and charismatic.

"Dean..." He replies, raising a brow as he looks at her, full of skepticism.

Taylor honestly can't tell if Dean is dressed satirically, or if this is really how he dressed, but he looks

just

like Fonzie. Black hair slicked back in a pompadour style, jeans, white shirt, black leather jacket, and a gold chain around his neck. He is certainly cute, although he appears to be in his mid thirties and kind of gives off the vibe of a former high school hot shot that's still grasping on to his former glory.

"Hi, Dean," she says with a warm smile, twirling her finger around a loose strand of hair near her temple. "So I know this is super weird and probably a little sketch, but my friend is in that car over there," she says, pointing to the Tesla parked about 60 yards away in the Checkers parking lot.

"Okay..." Dean says, looking at the Tesla and wondering with confusion what that has to do with her inviting herself into his car.

Taylor watches Dean's eyes move from the Tesla, back to her face, and down to her chest and midriff.

Good,

she thinks, watching his eyes begin to wander,

He's at least susceptible to my advances.

"Ugh, Okay," Taylor begins, partially feigning, partially genuine in her embarrassment. "This is so embarrassing, and I normally wouldn't do something like this, but I'm coming off a bad break-up and my friend wants me to be more spontaneous to get over my ex and, well, if I suck your dick will you buy us lunch?"

Taylor just blurts it all out -- a mixture of truth and lie, laying it all on the table.

"Wait, what?" Dean asks, a mixture of consternation and apprehension cluttering his thoughts and distorting his face into a scrunching look of bewilderment.

"I promise I'm not like a prostitute or anything," Taylor adds, hoping to dispel tension. "I'm just a little heart-broken and looking to fast-track my heartbreak," she lies. "What better way than a good ol' fashioned rebound, right?" She places her hand on his thigh and gives it a gentle, comforting squeeze.

"Yeah I guess so," Dean agrees, stupidly. Taylor can tell he believes her, and suddenly doesn't want to miss out on the chance at a blowjob dropped right in his lap, seemingly out of the heavens.

"So, like... where should we... I mean -- did you want to do it here, or...?"

"Yeah, here's fine," Taylor says, looking around at the mostly empty lot. "We're in the back, there are hardly any people here, you have tinted windows, and they don't come out unless you order, right? We should be okay here, don't you think?" Taylor gestures at his buckle.

"Y-Yeah," he stammers, launching himself into action, fumbling with his belt buckle and scrambling to remove his jeans as if she might change her mind if he doesn't remove them fast enough.

Taylor sits up on her knees and tucks her two loose strands of hair behind her ears as she watches Dean lift his ass from his seat and slide his jeans down his thighs and past his knees. His cock is already rock hard and stands tall at attention, the tip glistening with precum.

He has a good looking cock. It's perfectly straight, cleanly cut, with a good girth to it and a thick vein that snakes up the center of it. If Taylor had to guess, she would say it's definitely more than 6 inches long, probably closer to 7.

Without too much delay, Taylor stops her appraisal of Dean's cock, licks her lips, and leans in.

James watches from across the lot, debating on moving closer to get a better view. Ultimately, however, he concedes to the fact that getting closer would do more harm than good. Instead, he tries his best to watch the interaction raking place inside the car.

It appears to be going well. After just a few minutes, James can see the mystery man in the driver's seat scrambling, presumably, to remove his pants.

James watches as Taylor sits up on her knees and disappears into the man's lap. Then all he can see is the occasional glimpse of a blonde bun popping into view over the dashboard before disappearing again.

Holy shit, she's actually doing it!

The thought of Taylor sucking cock -- and the knowledge that she is currently in the act -- is too much for James to bare, and he opens his own pants, lowering the zipper and sliding his jeans to his knees. He looks around the car, first in the center console, then the backseat, eventually spotting his target. Reaching back, he grabs a small toiletries bag from the backseat, left out from brushing his teeth this morning. From inside of it, he pulls out a travel sized bottle of Jergens.

With his free hand, James unlocks his phone and navigates to the topless thong photos of Taylor that he received from the Kum & Go cashier. Selecting all 26 photos, he starts up a slideshow and lets the photos cycle through as he squirts a glob of lotion on to the tip of his cock and begins to stroke.

Taylor lets the tip of Dean's cock breach her lips, sliding across her tongue as she wraps her lips around the head of his cock. Dean groans and shudders, and Taylor purrs, her mouth vibrating against his shaft which in turn makes him groan even louder.

She gives his cock a good suck and then works his length, running her lips over his frenulum as she takes half of his length into her mouth, tickling the underside of his cock with her tongue as she wets his shaft. She leans her weight on her left arm as her elbow digs in to the center console. With her right hand, she grabs the base of Dean's shaft and squeezes it, forcing blood the blood flow to constrict the head of his cock, causing it to bulge against the roof of her mouth.

Taylor picks up speed, gliding her mouth up and down his length, running her lips to his tip, then down the shaft, taking more and more of his cock in her mouth with each bob of the head. She falls into a steady rhythm, bobbing her head on his cock as she slurps her way up his cock and lets his tip bottom out in the back of her throat on the downstroke.

James picks up speed, stroking his cock like he's on a mission. Every time he jerks off, he tells himself he is going to go slow and steady -- dragging out his orgasm as long as possible. Of course, it never works out that way and he instead pumps his fist as fast as possible and finishes way too soon. He can already feel the familiar tingle of an approaching orgasm.

A horn sounds -- two quick blasts that startles James out of his titty-induced stupor. In a panic, he quickly pushes his erect cock between his thighs and tries his best to conceal it from view as he checks the rearview, certain he is about to be arrested for indecent exposure.

Taylor hears the horn as well, quickly pulling Dean's cock from her mouth and popping up to look over the dashboard at the source of the noise. She sees a garbage truck backed halfway to the dumpsters in the corner of the Checkers lot, the Tesla blocking his path. Relieved that the horn has nothing to do with her indiscretions, she returns to her task, taking Dean's cock back in her mouth and instantly swallowing 3/4th of his length.

James pulls his pants up just high enough to slip his cock inside the waist of the denim, holding the erection down and out of view. He fires up the Tesla and puts it in reverse, and pulls it past the garbage truck. With a brief stop at the lot's exit to check for traffic, James pulls the car out and right back in to the adjacent Sonic lot. He drives the car around the outside of the drive-up lane and parks in the back of the lot, near the woods at the back of the property.

Taylor pushes deeper, letting Dean's cock slip past her uvula and into her throat. Deepthroating used to be second nature to her, but she hasn't sucked a dick in almost three years. Although the skill seems to be imprinted in her mind, she

is

a little rusted around the edges. The first time she tries to take him into her throat, she gags, spitting out his cock and gripping it with her right hand, jerking it as she heaves in a few breaths and re-composes herself. Then she dives back in for another try.

James checks to see if he can get a better glimpse of the happenings inside the Firebird from his new vantage point, but it's much of the same -- blonde hair bobbing through a distorted window tint. Instead, he goes back to the slideshow still playing on his phone, picking it up out of the cup holder and balancing it on the dash where he can get a good view. Then he returns to his stroking, starting over with his orgasmic climb, one pump at a time. This time, he

does

take it slow.

Taylor shoves Dean's cock back in to her throat and immediately feels the urge to gag. Then a core memory unlocks -- a way of

outlasting

the urge to gag. She pushes it down and lets his cock slide deeper into her esophageal passage. His cock is thick enough that it restricts her breathing, and the seal of her lips around his shaft breaks, drool running down his length as an audible

glug, gleg, glag,

sound escapes the corners of her mouth. She holds her position as long as she can, until her throat begins to tingle and her eyes begin to itch.

When her lungs clench and scream for fresh air, she spits him out, gasping and spluttering and heaving in deep breaths as tears threaten to spill form her watering eyes. She grips tightly to his saliva soaked cock and jerks it vigorously as she fights to catch her breath.