The radio created a dull distraction as Ron pushed the pedal to the floor of the 2000 Audi S4. Taking an uneven bite out of a powdered donut, he allowed the crumbs to gather on his full beard. His beard gradually began to appear gray now that the fine sugar dust mixed in with the muddy brown hairs on his chin. This car had been Ron's home for the past year and a half. Beer cans, cigarette cartons, and a few small wine bottles from the week before littered the backseat floor, creating a suffocating habitat.
With a dry mouth, Ron glanced over, eying an old beer can that had survived his reckless driving and remained upright even as the small car twirled around various vehicles. Ron checked for any cigarette butts before downing a large gulp. He sighed in solace, wiping his mouth on his hairy forearm.
The nagging sting of a needed buzz lingered on his stiff neck and hung off his broad shoulders. The cocaine from the night before had worn off, leaving his body weaker than most days. Those five lines were a luxury last night. It had been years since Ron had been that high. He had to quit the hard stuff last year, not by choice, since cocaine had been his preferred way of achieving rich nirvana. But he moved on from the lethal substance when he left his home, his nagging wife, and a spoiled kid to take to the road. With his wife's bank account information changed and his emptied, Ron was no longer allowed to keep his old expensive habit, especially with the gas prices rocketing and taking what little money he cared to make.
Ron was once firm and muscular, making it into college on an athletic scholarship in his long-gone youth. But now, at 51, that body was rubbish in sync with the trashed car he drove around the country to run from his old responsibilities. Despite years of substance abuse, Ron had maintained solid legs and arms, but his gut was happily growing thanks to his new addiction to sugary sweets and his long-standing love of booze.
A honk interrupted the once peace of mind Ron had obtained from the rock ballad and swigs of stale beer. Aggressively rolling down the window, he quickly threw out his large hand, posing his thick middle finger for all to see.
"Fuck you motherfucker!"
"Fuck you. Learn to drive, Asshole!" the driver yelled back.
Ron chuckled, turning the wheel to the left. He sped by the large van and shouted in victory, "Eat shit!"
Feeling optimistic again, Ron turned the dial and filled the small car with a more upbeat tune. The guitar solo added to the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and he smashed his foot down, clearing miles in seconds as he swerved around a few slow drivers. Anyone bold enough to honk or yell a remark was met with dust after Ron sped off onto the next lane's traffic.
One hour turned to four, and the sense of the city had turned into vast countryside. The road ahead was dull, and after seeing the seventh goat farm, Ron slowed his pace and peered toward the map at his side.
Keeping his foot down and eyes over, he developed a swerve that brought him into the opposite lane. A loud honk soon followed.
"Mother...Goddamnit," Ron mumbled, grabbing the wheel with both hands. He steadied the car and groaned, shifting his soreness off, "Fucking asshole."
Ron cruised at a more reliable rate, paying more attention to the drums and guitars crooning heavily from the speaker. He wasn't stopping anytime soon. He hadn't planned to stop last night, but he couldn't pass up the drug-fiend blonde at the bar. She was craving a good piece of cock, and Ron was determined to give it to her before heading back onto the open road. After snorting the blonde woman's drugs and eating a hefty meal, Ron had bedded her hard with promises he'd pay one of her overdue bills once the bank opened up. By 7 am, Ron was an hour out, and he wasn't headed to a bank. Wild and free, he rode alone with nothing other than this old car that was getting him by for now.
The long dreary road was mind-numbing, and Ron took a few turns to find his way back to a main highway. When a woman's silhouette caught his eye, Ron slammed on the brakes. He was still yards away but looked behind him. Seeing nothing coming, he reversed and lagged back to the female pedestrian, out of place in the country scene.
With lean limbs and slight curves, the woman walked away from him. Long brown air flowed down her slender back and lingered around her ass, covering her tiny shorts.
"Is that a fucking whore," Ron mumbled, inching back to glimpse her face. A soft cheek made him chuckle with excitement. Pouty lips poked out from beneath the long strands that blew across her face.
"Where ya going, little lady?" He shouted out.
Ornella walked faster, keeping her eyes up front to ignore the riding stranger. She could see his rugged face from the corner of her eye and grew timid. It had been a dangerous thing when she left home--running away with a friend who promised to stick by her side. But after meeting a boy, her friend Danielle had rejected her, leaving her alone in the world. Ornella hoped a woman would stop and take her in for protection. But only men cared to assist her homelessness.
Ornella had learned that trusting men came at a cost. The last man who offered her aid ran off with a touch of her bum. That experience had made the 18 year old virgin highly uncomfortable around strange men.
Rolling wheels inched back and slowed to a walking pace. Ron got a good look at her and smiled in gratitude. Someone in that murky sky was looking down on him and had sent him a sex-pot of gold for his amusement.
"Where ya walking to, pretty gal? You must be lost. Walking out here alone," Ron called out.
Her long legs pushed on, fully revealed by a pair of blue jean shorts. They were so short that the white pockets poked out, lingering along her toned thigh. Her tan skin was nearly a golden hue, highlighted by the once white, dirt-dusted tank top that covered her tits. She needed no bra to retain her round heaps of perky flesh. A cleavage line separated the two delicate breasts, which seductively bounced as she hiked.
Ron adjusted a newly growing erection and grew angry. Regardless of her beauty, she was ignoring him.
"Girl!" He growled, slamming on the brakes, "You must be one of those rude women, huh?"
Ornella cringed at his loud voice. Halting her steps, she turned and dropped her head, "I am sorry, sir. But I am trying to get home."
Lifting an eye, she examined his face, a stern scowl that made her drop her bottom lip.
A button nose calmly centered her face, but those eyes were intense. A deep blue sea of color assaulted her stare. Ron knew those blue eyes, and they screamed for sex.
Ron chuckled at his luck before scolding the young beauty, "You're rude, is what you are."
"I am sorry, sir. But I..."
"But nothing. A good man comes to check you out, and you keep walking like you have no sense in the world."
"I have sense, sir, but...." Ornella shrugged, shifting around, "It's dangerous out here for women, so..." She adjusted her shorts, bringing them further down her tanned thighs, "I need to get home before dark," She forced a smile, turning to continue her trek.
Ron eyed her again, raking his mind to figure out her age. Her delicate features were a giveaway that she was too young to entertain the average middle-aged man. But that had never stopped Ron.
"Wait. Slow down."
"I need to get home, sir."
Softening his approach, Ron smiled,
"I will let you ride with me. Come on." Ron swiped at the piles of cans and cartons in the front seat, "I'll even let you ride up front."
Ornella ignored the offer, knowing home was nowhere near. She had no place to call home within two thousand miles, but that was something this man did not need to know.
"Aye, I've had enough of your dismissal." Ron snapped, "You speak when spoken to, you hear? Is that how your parents taught you to treat your elders?"
"Sorry. But I will be fine. I have to go," she muttered, keeping her stride.
Her dirt-dusted yellow sandals made a flapping sound when she fastened her pace.
"You are afraid of me, huh?" Ron chuckled, "I am not a scary guy. I'm one of the good guys. I voted for Elmer Lewis."
The name of the liberal political leader made Ornella slow down and smile, "That was a good choice, sir. Kornegay was a bad man. I am glad he is out of Office."
"Yeah," Ron chuckled, "What a monster he was, taking the rights from minorities and those gay fellas. Women, too," Ron smiled, "Women deserve the right to do whatever they want, don't they now?"
"Yes," Ornella beamed and stepped closer, "Everyone should have rights, sir."
"Yeah," Ron eyed the crotch of her jean shorts and rubbed his hairy jaw, "You voted for Lewis, too?"
"Of course. I believe he will change things."
"Same as I. How about I give you a lift? Like Lewis, I've always been a fan of helping women."
"That is comforting, sir. Women need allyship in this country. It's hard everywhere for women."
"Oh. It is, isn't it? With rapists and murders on the news. You can't even trust a stranger these days."
"You are right, sir. I hate to say it but especially men. I had a run-in with a man...." Ornella dropped her head, not wanting to recall the molestation. That unwanted touch still lingered in her mind, and she never wanted that to happen again.
"What did that rat bastard do to you, sweetheart?"
"It didn't end well," she shook her head bitterly, "He... Touched me."
"Is that so?" Ron smiled a toothy pale yellow grin, "Is that who you're running from?"
"No, sir. He's long gone."
"Uh huh, so where are you headed this evening that you've got to get there before the sun goes down?"
"Home."
"And where is your house, little lady? I can drive you there, keep you safe from those bad men."
Ornella shifted nervously and dropped her head. Soft strands of golden brown hair flowed down her shoulders, "Thank you, sir, but. No, thank you. I don't have too long to walk."
Ron checked his watch and sighed, "Well, you've got about an hour left of light."
"I should get going. Thank you again for the offer," Ornella gave a warm smile.
When she turned to walk across the asphalt, she didn't see the 18-Wheeler moving toward her. But it caught Ron's sight. Pushing open the door, he grabbed the girl, quickly shoving her body closer to the car.
Ornella gasped and fought his hands on her tiny carved waist. There, his palms skated down to her hips and roamed over the side of her thighs. Her worst nightmare was coming to life, and this stranger was trying to take her virtue.
"Sir," Ornella twisted her torso away, "Sir, your hands are on my-"
A loud blow from the approaching 18 Wheeler interrupted her protest. Ornella's eyes widened at the massive truck, "Ahh!"
Pinning his body against hers, Ron tucked her small skull into the opening in his shirt, shielding her precious body from the wind gusts. The gravel rocks assaulted his back, but he held onto her waist, smushing his gut and growing erection into her flat stomach. Her skin was soft and tender under his rough assaulting embrace. Fear replaced her worries about being touched, and Ornella allowed his protection.
The large vehicle swiped by the pair, carrying loud blasts of annoyance behind.
Ornella breathed a deep sigh of relief. Indeed her life could have ceased by the fast-passing truck. She was foolish in her readiness to escape the rugged man, and a calming reassurance washed over her. He was indeed an ally to women; she thought and wrapped her lean arms around him in a dusty embrace.
"Oh, sir," Ornella gazed toward her savior with wide blue eyes, "I apologize. You saved me. Thank you. I..."
