The Night Caller

A rest area along I-44 in Central Missouri.

2:30 AM.

He was checking the graffitti in the stall. Amidst the clutter of the crudely scrawled obscene limericks and offers for blow jobs in the parking lot one "ad" stood out.

Neatly printed, low on the stall wall:

For a really wild fuck:

Red haired, older beauty - Carol

Likes to be submissive

Loves to be fucked in the ass

555-4091

The exchange was for the next city on the Interstate.

He was intrigued.

30 minutes later he pulled into a truck stop parking lot, found a "call from car" payphone and dialed. He was nervous.

Was this "ad" the revenge of a scorned lover? Was Carol actually going to turn out to be a queen looking for cock? Or, was this legit? And if legit, what do you say to a total stranger at three in the morning?

"Hi. Uh, saw this graffitti out on the Interstate that said you liked to be fucked in the ass. Mind if I stop by?"

The phone was on the fifth ring. He was feeling more than a little foolish.

Then there was a voice.

Female.

Husky from sleep.

"Hello?"

He almost lost his nerve. There was a long pause.

Again, the husky, sleepy voice. "Hello?"

"Uh...hi..."

"Who is this?" It was a simple inquiry. No fear. No anger.

"Uh...I saw your - uh, did you, uh know...?"

"I know I have an ad at the rest area. I wrote it myself right after sucking off a salesman. His cum was still dripping from my lips when I used his pen to write it. The reason it's so low on the stall wall is because I was still on my knees. Just struck me as something I should do while I was there."

She was almost rambling but not drunk or stoned, just - talking.

When she came back to focus, it startled him. "So, you interested, stud?"

"Well, uh, uh,..."

She giggled, a deep, husky, sleepy giggle; "My God," she seemed to purr, "a rest stop virgin. Never called a rest area sex ad before have you?"

"Well - uh, no."

"You're calling from the 'Flying J'?"

"Uh, yeah. Out in the parking lot."

"Two miles north, on the left. A trailer with a Mustang GT in the drive. See ya."

The phone went dead.

He stood and stared at the receiver in his hand. It was a mid-Missouri winter night. The temp had to be in the teens. And he sat in his car, his window open, staring at the phone receiver - and sweating.

Somehow he willed himself to drive north. He still wasn't sure whether this was legit.

A trailer in mid-Missouri.

Off the Interstate.

The only way, he thought, this could be any weirder, any more rawly perverted, was if he and the trailer were in Arkansas.

He looked down into the darkness at his crotch. His cock was insanely hard. He wondered if they would print "died by literally thinking with his penis" in his obituary in case something bad happened.

Two miles north.

A single wide.

A street light illuminating the trailer, a rusted truck, a dilapidated barn and a fire engine red Mustang GT with vanity plates: "IMDANGRUS"

He took a deep breath and turned in.

There were no lights on in the trailer.

Set up? He'd see. It was the moment of truth.

He knocked.

The door opened almost immediately and he gasped then cursed.

"Uh, oh, SHIT! Uh - no, jeez, I'm sorry! Wrong address, I'm sure! Really..."

The teenage girl standing in shadow in the doorway, wearing a man's tank top undershirt tied up in a knot under her breasts and a pair of cotton panties, smiled then couldn't help but laugh.

"Mama, your caller is here. I think. Looks like he's gonna have a heart attack."

From somewhere in the depths of the trailer, "How's he look, Pumpkin?"

"I'll fuck him if you don't use him up, Mama."

She leered at the visibly shaken and confused visitor. Moved a hand across her bare midriff and scratched at an itch absentmindedly.

"...Uh, excuse me, miss...am I in Arkansas?"

She smiled, held out her hand to him, "And he's got a sense of humor too. Thinks we're Arkansas trailer trash."

"Well bring him on in, Missy."

There was barely enough room for both of them to walk down the hallway to the end of the trailer and the woman's bedroom.

Missy or Pumpkin (It was actually Melissa) managed to insinuate herself between the man and the wall, making the most contact she possibly could with him.

He started to feel lightheaded from the combination of her warm, soft body pushing against him and her smell of sweat and what he recognized as "FDS" feminine hygiene spray.

She opened the door and motioned him in.

In a mock whisper, she said, "You get tired of fuckin' my old slut of a mother you come and get me." She winked, leered and blew him an exaggerated kiss before she shut the door behind him.

He jumped when he heard the woman's voice and a small bedside lamp came on casting an erie, dim pall on the dingy bedroom.

"I'm 42. My randy daughter is 18 and has the ID to prove it. Engineering major up at Rolla. Don't let the 'trash talk fool you. She's actually a junior this year, made the Dean's list. She started when she was 16. So, unless you're a physicist or some such shit, she's probably smarter than both of us put together.

"My name's Carol and you would be...?"

"Clark. Clark Michaelson." His eyes had finally adjusted to the light. His nerves were calming too, although he had no idea why.

Almost filling the small bedroom was a kingsize bed and in the middle of it lay Carol.

She laughed, "Damn, for a minute I thought you were going to say Clark Kent.

"You appear to be a bit uneasy Clark Michaelson. Relax, I ain't gonna bite. Promise."

"Well, I - uh, I'm just a bit new to this, ah, sort of thing."

"This sort of thing? Oh, you mean, calling up strange women at 3 in the morning from highway rest stops and wanting to fuck them in the ass and who knows what other perverted things. That sort of thing?"

He got a bit indignant. "Well, you did advertise for it."

She smiled, "Yes, yes I did. And you have just passed my test Clark. You had the backbone to not take my shit. Now, what do you want to do?"

Carol came up on her knees on the end of the bed and presented herself to him. She was in an old, thread bare robe that nonetheless concealed her body quite well.

He reached out for the belt and pulled it.

"Hmmmm...good boy."

The robe fell partially open but in the dimness of the room it was hard to tell what lay beneath.

"Pull your robe down over your shoulders."

"Ah, a command. Yes, sir."

A spaghetti strap camisole and a pair of panties were what the robe was hiding. And under the camisole appeared to be a full, soft set of breasts. Between the camisole and the panties a full, soft belly. A belly button ring twinkling in the available light.

And the smell of FDS.

He jerked the robe further down her arms.

She gasped at his quickness; at the suddenness.

He gasped at the smoothness of her skin.

His fingertips trembled as they slowly moved up the well defined long muscle of her forearm and traveled along her clavicle, moving under the spaghetti strap.

She closed her eyes.

Without a word he put his hand against the flat of her chest and pushed so that she fell to her back, her arms pinned beneath her and her legs spread awkwardly.

"Condom," he rasped. His voice was tight. He had lost his uneasiness and was now going on desire; pheremones, hormones.

Lust.

"No, do me bareback or not at all...boy."

Her voice was taunt with lust too. And she was taunting him, calling him "boy."

It was as if he never heard her.

He pulled her panties off. They both struggled - her to help him and he simply to see her cunt. He felt crazed. He just wanted to see her cunt.

Her legs were now more awkwardly spread, more lewdly spread than when he pushed her onto the bed.

He stared for a moment at her sex. She was shaven. And there appeared to be the string from a tampon hanging down.

He bent closer for a look, to verify his suspicion.

She almost - but not quite - sounded embarrassed, "Sorry, I forgot to tell you I'm on my period."

He didn't say a word, just started undressing.

When he was nude he knelt between her legs. She saw his erection was long and pressed to his belly. He started to pull the string to pull the tampon out.

"Wait!...Uh, get a towel..."

But the tampon came out with a very wet plop and she felt the flow touch her inner thighs and flow beneath her on the bed. In moments she felt him slide deep into her sex. He laid atop her, pressing her to the bed and kissed her.

"Interesting flavor."

"Uh, yeah...Melissa has a very sweet cunt...," it was a quivering whisper as he nuzzled her throat, caressed her face all the while slowly moving inside her.

He sat back on his haunches, "Melissa!"

Melissa had been at the door watching. She opened the door completely and stood at the foot of the bed next to him.

"So how does Mama like it the best?"

"Tied. On her belly."

"Then why don't you make her comfortable?"

He pulled out of her with the same wet slithering plop of the tampon. Melissa knelt on the bed and rolled her mother onto her stomach. Then she took the belt from her mother's robe and tied her hands.

As Melissa went about her work he knelt behind her. She paused a moment and looked back. He was rubbing his erection on her panties, smearing her mother's blood on her. She moved to avoid more contact with him.

Her mother was tied.

"Get out, Pumpkin."

Melissa fled the room. He knelt on the bed, again between Carol's legs. He took a pillow from the head of the bed and stuffed it under Carol's belly.

Then he pulled her robe over her head, covering her head and shoulders but exposing her from the midback down.

Then he turned out the light.

Melissa, her fingers pulling on a nipple and rubbing her clit as she slumped against the wall of the hallway, heard her mother moan and Clark grunt as his cock entered Carol.

"Oh, Mama...fucking take him...," Melissa whispered as she heard the first creak of the bed springs, her mother's first loud cry as he took Carol's ass fully on the in stroke, and felt the beginnings of her first orgasm.

* * * *

The click of the hallway light switch startled Melissa awake. Her panties were around her ankles and her top was pulled below her breasts.

She looked up to see him stagger out of the bedroom. His cock and groin area looked like he'd been shot from her mother's copious menstrual blood.

His cock hung limply. His eyes looked a bit vacant.

He stumbled toward the bathroom.

She didn't wait for him to come out.

She clicked off the hallway light and followed him in.