Ismet

I was just driving along, minding my own business, when I got a flat. I was not pleased. It was a beautiful sunny day and I'd just hopped in my little sweetheart and gone for a drive. I have this 2010 Chevrolet Corvette Grand Sport convertible, painted pink. It's a really, really, nice little car and I absolutely love it. And now my poor darling had a flat tyre.

I couldn't drive it like that. I might damage the wheel or something. Trouble is, I couldn't change the wheel, either. I'm a total klutz at things like that. Well, I suppose I could change it if I absolutely had to, but I had a far better idea.

I was wearing a short sundress and I have very nice legs. (My boobs aren't too bad either, let me tell you.) I figured that all I'd have to do was look helpless and someone would stop and change the wheel for me.

So there I am, standing next to my injured baby, looking sexy and helpless, waiting for my hero. No traffic, was there. I was on a country road and everyone seemed to be using the main roads. I was getting quite irritated with the scarcity of eligible heroes rushing to my rescue.

Finally, finally, a truck came lumbering up the road. I gave the driver a piteous look and he pulled over and hopped out. He still wasn't my choice of an eligible hero. He was, to put it mildly, a big fat slob, and he reeked. With him standing next to his truck and me over by my car I could still smell him. I was appalled.

"Hey, little lady," he says, in a very loud voice. "See you've got a bit of a problem."

"Um, yes," I agreed. "I don't know how to change a wheel."

"Dead easy," he bellowed. "Dead easy. I'll have that switched in no time. Afterwards."

"Um, after what?" I asked puzzled.

"After you give me a little reward for fixing your problem, of course."

OK. So I'd pay him. If I was in the city I'd have to pay a mechanic to come and do it. I guess this was no different.

"Oh. Ah, what would be a reasonable reward?" I asked, reaching for my purse. I didn't mind paying something but I wasn't going to be cheated. I could always wait until someone more reasonable came along.

"Hey, put your money away, little lady," he said. "I don't want your money. Hey, we're all alone out here and you're a pretty young thing. I'm sure we can work something out."

I found myself wishing for several things at that point. One, that he would stop bellowing. Two, that he'd back off because the smell was starting to get to me. Three, that he didn't mean what I thought he meant by that innuendo.

"Um, what do you mean by work something out?" I was starting to back away and he was still advancing.

"Hey, little lady, just a friendly bit of slap and tickle. It could get right interesting with a pretty little thing like you. It's been a while since I been with a pretty young thing and you'll learn something. Yeah, I'll give you some fun."

"Ah, no thanks," I said quickly, still backing away. "I don't think I want the same thing you do."

"Don't think you have much say in the matter," he said with a laugh.

I was trying to circle around my car and keep out of his reach. I had a nasty feeling that he was moving faster than me. Stupid car. I couldn't even hop in and lock myself in. The top was down.

"Listen, girl," he bellowed at me. "You don't want to make me mad. Just stay still and my friend here will amuse you."

He rather crudely patted his groin at that point.

If he touched me, I was going to be sick. Somehow, I didn't think that that would dampen his ardour. I was close to panicking, I can tell you that.

I was practically running around my car to keep away from this slob. I wasn't paying any attention to the road as there just wasn't any traffic. It came as a bit of a surprise when the truckie suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked past me.

"Do we have a problem here?" came a deep voice from behind me.

Spinning around there was this man standing in the middle of the road. Behind him was this huge black motorbike. I'd been concentrating on the truckie so hard I hadn't even heard him ride up. The bikie was easily as big as the truckie, but he seemed all muscle where the truckie was all gross fat.

I was wondering if I'd gone to hell or something. The bikie wore black leather with what looked like a skull on his chest. So what now? The two men fight it out for the right to rape me? I just stood there, not knowing what to do.

"I was just gonna change the little lady's wheel," blustered the truckie. "Seeing you're here you can do it."

So, no fight then, I thought, watching the truckie quickly scramble into his truck. The bikie just looked at him. It was rather a lethal look. I didn't really blame the truckie for taking off. I would have, too, if it wasn't for the flat tyre.

"If you'll pop your boot, miss," the bikie said quietly, "I'll change that wheel for you."

I popped the boot and the bikie got to work. Five minutes was all it took him. Wheel off, wheel on, flat tyre in boot, and boot locked, and I was ready to go. I was still somewhat dismayed. I could dodge the truckie for a while, because he was fat and out of shape. The bikie looked disgustingly fit. If he made a move he'd probably catch me before I even knew that he was attacking.

He lifted a hand and I squeaked and jumped. He grinned, knowing I was somewhat skittish with him there.

"I'll be going, miss," he said. "Take care. Don't forget to get that wheel fixed."

With that he gave me a casual wave, hopped onto his bike and took off, leaving me feeling somewhat stunned. He hadn't made a pass or anything. Was he blind or gay? I was feeling slightly offended. Of course, if he had made a pass I'd have been offended over that, as well. That's the way things are at times. Whatever, I got in my baby and continued my drive.

Now as I said, I was going for a drive, a way of relaxing and seeing a bit of scenery, getting out of the city for a while. I was in no hurry, had no place I had to be, just puttering along, enjoying myself. There was absolutely no reason for that cop to pull me over.

I couldn't believe it when this motorbike cop came up from behind, looked me over, and waved me over to the side, giving a beep on his siren for emphasis. I pulled over and turned to look at him, feeling indignant and put upon.

"Step out of the car, please, Ma'am," he says, all polite like, as though he really had an excuse to pull me over.

"Do you know how fast you were driving, Ma'am?" he asked, still being polite.

I did, and I told him, pointing out that I was not over the limit.

"Sorry, Ma'am," he said, "but you were actually travelling faster than that. Speeding in fact. I'd get your speedo checked if I were you. I'm going to have to write you a ticket."

"This is bullshit," I said, furious. "I was not speeding and you know it. You're just giving me a ticket because you want to for some reason. This is so unfair."

"Seriously, Ma'am, you were speeding. No need to be hostile. I'm only doing my job. You should have been a little more careful."

"I am always careful," I told him. "I never get tickets. I'm a good and safe driver."

"Really, Ma'am?" he says. "It's amazing how many people get booked when they're not doing anything wrong."

He had a nasty little smirk going. He knew I hadn't been speeding but it would just be my word against his. I felt like swearing at him, but that would probably get me another ticket. I just glared at him, instead.

He looked me over. Again. I'd noticed him checking me out when I got out of the car. Now his smirk got even wider.

"Well, you weren't going too fast," he said in a very silky tone. "I could probably be persuaded to forego the ticket."

I looked up smiling and hopeful and got a hell of a shock when he squeezed my breast.

"What the hell do you think you're doing," I shrieked at him, slapping at his hand. "How dare you touch me? You can take any ideas like that and stick them where the sun doesn't shine, you pervert."

"Nothing perverted about a man fucking a woman," the cop said. "I'm quite willing to demonstrate this."

"No way, Jose," I snapped, trying to stare him down.

He just smirked at me.

"I think you'll come across. You don't really have much choice, now do you?"

He started moving towards me and I started backing up and a motorbike came along. I could swear it was the same guy who'd chased off the truckie. He didn't say anything. He just pulled up across from us, got off his bike and stretched.

The cop turned and looked at him.

"You got a problem?" he asked the bikie.

"Ah, no, officer. Don't mind me. You go right ahead and deal with your malefactor. I've been riding for a while and need to stop and stretch my legs for a short while. Road safety, you know. Freshening up every so often makes me a safer rider. The authorities recommend regular breaks you know."

I recognised his voice. It was the same bikie. An angel in black as far as I was concerned. The cop glared over at the bikie and then he gave me a nasty look, as well. There was no way he could grab me, not with a witness.

"Right, I'll let you off with a warning," he snapped at me. "Just watch your speed in future."

He turned and stormed back to his bike, mounting and taking off fast.

The bikie took of his helmet and placed it on the seat of his bike and ambled across the road to me, grinning.

"Doesn't seem to be your day, does it," he said. "Kismet, I guess."

"Kiss you?" I asked, suspicious once more.

"Kismet," he repeated. "It means fate. It seems that fate has decided that today is the day you're going to be raped. First the truckie was trying and just now that cop."

I went to protest that the cop wouldn't have touched me, but he got in first.

"No. Don't try to kid me. We both know what he intended. It was obvious. Why do you think I stopped?"

He grinned at me, waving away any attempt at thanks.

"Still, if fate's got it in for you today then your best bet is to bow to it and let it happen. Fortunately, I'm here to help you."

Eh? That was as clear as mud. Was he saying he was going to help me defeat my fate or what? He saw my slight confusion.

"Listen, woman, if fate has decided that you're going to be raped today then you will be, so you might as well get it over with. As soon as your panties are off I'll take care of your problem."

Oh my god, he had to be kidding. He unzipped. Standing right there in front of me, he unzipped. God help me, he wasn't kidding.

I was right about how fast he could move. He had hold of my arm and was urging me off the road before I knew what was happening.

"Come along," he told me. "We don't have all day. Let's get this show on the road. Don't worry. All you have to do is bend forward over the side of your car. It's just the right height. I'll attend to everything else."

I protested. Bitterly. He calmly ignored everything I was saying, escorting me right off the road and around to where he wanted me.

"You know," he said, all smiles and happiness, "instead of just taking off your panties, let's get you fully undressed. It'll be fun to have you naked under the sun while I take you."

"No, it won't," I firmly informed him, and finding myself being ignored once more.

The trouble with sundresses is that they tend to be slip on, slip off, and it doesn't have to be me that slips it off. The bikie just bent down, took the hem of my dress, and lifted it straight up. I tried to hold it down, only to be reprimanded.

"If you keep that up you're going to tear your dress," he told me. "Stop being silly and lift your arms."

Frustratingly, I had to admit he had a point. My dress was only a light material and he looked big enough to just tear it to shreds. I lifted my arms and the dress landed on the front seat of my car.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" I asked. "So I know who to swear at?"

"Jose, at your service," he said.

"Jose, as in no way, Jose?"

"As if I haven't heard that before," he said reproachfully. "Now bend over, there's a good girl."

Not that he was giving me much choice. He turned me to face the car and pushed me against it, my hands arcing over the door and pressing against the seat. I felt a hand at my back and then my bra slithered down my arms and landed on the seat. At the same time, two hands came around me, capturing my breasts, lightly rubbing them.

At the same time I could feel him pressing against my bottom. He hadn't only unzipped, he'd brought his weapon out to play. I could feel it pressing against the cleft of my buttocks.

After stroking my breasts for a little while his hands drifted down to my waist. My panties started their downwards journey. I explained why this whole thing was a bad idea. Jose tapped my ankle to get me to lift it so he could take my panties right off.

Then he was pressing against me again while he dropped the panties down on top of my dress and bra. I could feel him pressing against the cleft of my buttocks again, and it seemed a lot more intimate now, with no panties separating my bottom from his erection.

"Why are you doing this?" I wailed, feeling his hand close over my mound and start rubbing it.

"Kismet, baby," he said. "Would you rather the truckie was doing this?"

I thought of the truckie and the smell. I'd rather have died. I probably would have. I'm sure he was contagious with something.

"No," I mumbled.

"How about our smiling assassin, the crooked cop?"

Better than the truckie, but still no thank you.

Again I mumbled, "No."

"Well, there you go. You've got the pick of the litter. Now just relax and let things happen."

He made a few minor adjustments to his position, and I found things were about to happen. His hands were on my breasts again, teasing them, while he'd adjusted the position of his cock before grabbing them. I could feel it, pressing lightly against my lips, ready to press into me.

"When you're ready, just press back against me," Jose told me. "You'll find that I'll slip right in."

I blinked at that. Just how big an egotist was he?

"You seriously expect me to press back against you to take you into me?" I asked him, shocked.

"Well, yes. You're the one who will know best when you're ready to receive me. It seems only reasonable."

Reasonably insane, if you asked me. No way was I going to do that, and I told him so.

"You may want to reconsider that," he murmured. "The road doesn't get much traffic but it does get some. Do you want to still be here when someone comes past, like a certain truckie or maybe a cop on a motorbike?"

The swine. The rotten swine. I bet he was prepared to stand there, pressed against me until someone did come. I'd be the one caught naked in public. All he had to do was zip up and he was respectable. Well, at least he would look reasonably respectable. Actually being respectable was something else again.

What to do? What to do? I didn't see that I had much choice. I pressed back against him, and he surged into me. It wasn't just my little push that did it. As soon as I pushed back against him, he thrust forward, driving himself all the way into me with one superb thrust. No, not superb. I won't call it superb. It was a nasty thrust, nothing superb about it at all, even if it did cause his cock to slide smoothly down my passage, stretching it nicely, causing him to sink his full length into me.

That was just the start of it. Now that he was taking me he started to take me in earnest. While I hadn't actually seen his equipment my body was telling me that there was a lot of it and that he knew how to use it. He'd pull slowly back, returning with a sudden rush that would sink him deep, inside me, his hands squeezing my breasts slightly at the same time.

He wasn't rushing me, taking his time pulling back, then pausing for a second to let me know that the charge was about to start. Then in he'd come, driving firmly home while I lifted my bottom and pushed back to meet him. I started off trying to protest this invasion of my body, but it's hard to lodge a complaint when you're going "Oo, ah, wow," as his thrusts sent electric thrills racing through me.

I gave up any idea of complaining. If I felt I had to complain I'd write him a letter some time. Right now I was just going with what he was doing to my body, taking him deep and trying to subtly encourage him (without letting him know I was enjoying it, of course).

Mind you, I think I might have given the game away towards the end. He'd been driving into me for what felt like forever and my whole body was burning. I was ready, and I mean REALLY ready for a climax, and I was quite sure that he was to. I felt the change to his rhythm at the end, finding him hitting me harder and faster, the end game now taking place.

That's where I think I gave away the fact that I was enjoying what was happening. It's pretty hard to disguise it when you suddenly shriek out, "Oh, god, yes. Take me, you bastard. Fuck me hard." He didn't say anything but he sure took the message to heart, taking me as though the world was about to end and he was getting in one last shot.

He climaxed with a groan, one that I was echoing as my own climax ignited, turning my burning need into a flash fire that totally destroyed me.

I just lay where I was, draped over the car door, totally wasted. I felt Jose withdraw then he had a word of advice for me.

"You might like to consider at least putting your dress on. Other traffic will be using this road sooner or later."

Oh, yeah, I guess I should at that, I acknowledged. I stood up, grabbing my undies as I did so. Before I could put them on Jose was turning me around.

"What?" I asked. I mean, what more could he want? He'd already done everything he could. And very lustily, too.

"I just wanted to see you standing nude before me," he said. "You have a wonderful body."

See me was right. His eyes were raking up and down, taking it all in, every naked inch of me, and blatantly appreciating what he saw.

"Very nice," he murmured, "and now safe from Kismet."

I said, "What?"

"Fate slated you for ravishment," he said. "It could have been by another but I was sent to serve you. You will have no more problems today."

What could I say to that? He'd raped me to prevent me being raped by someone else. So self-sacrificing of him to give his all like that. I just looked at him. No way was I thanking him, which was he seemed to be expecting. He shrugged and headed for his motor-bike, riding off into the sunset. Except he was riding south and it was still the middle of the afternoon.

I got dressed and continued my drive. Kismet, indeed. I don't believe things are fated to happen. Which made it pretty annoying that the rest of the day went absolutely perfectly, as though I'd paid my dues and was being rewarded.