On the road [Cherubian & Mr. D]

[Mr. D]

The roads always made him feel free. The wind blew in from the open window of his pickup truck and made a mess of what was left of his almost completely grey, straggling, thin hair. He had just rolled out of Laredo at the Mexican border, and all he could see ahead was the straight highway reaching out for the horizon, and on both sides of it the desert. He pressed the gas pedal down, and watched the city shrink in the rear mirror. A feeling of power spread through his body as he raced into the wilderness of the landscape ahead. It was six in the morning, and he was alone on Interstate 35 - it was just him and the desert.

It would be a long drive north, and it would take days for him to reach Minneapolis, but he was looking forward to the journey. Since no one was around, he could just as well unbuckle his belt to let his belly out. All the fat did not make him look any good, but he just liked beer to much to care. Besides, his rugged body, crooked smile with brown teeth and scarred face did not make him any attractive, so in the end his constantly growing belly did not make much of a difference. Especially that red scar that started on his right cheek and continued above the eye across his forehead made people shun him, it even seemed to scare some. And after all, even though he was fat he was also strong - his arms were still muscular, he was 6'3'' tall and weight 280 pounds - so he could understand why some found him intimidating.

He turned up the music, some old Iron Maiden album, and even started to sing along to the lyrics with a hoarse voice. Life ought to always be like this - no responsibilities, no rules, just the feeling of speed and the wind and the beautiful landscape passing by. He was so caught in the moment that he almost did not notice the girl standing at the side of the road. But when he finally saw her, he hit the brakes with all his weight. With a loud skid, the red pickup truck stopped right beside her.

The car was old, and were it not for the bright color it would not be visible at all under all the dried in dust. The board was covered with tarpaulin, and it looked like it was loaded with boxes under it. He put his tattooed, thick arm on the window frame and leaned out with a smile on his face, his one golden tooth shining in the sun. The tattoo of his arm depicted two snakes circling around the arm, trying to bite each other. It had looked cool when he was young, but now when he was over 50 it just looked out of place.

"Need a ride?" he asked with an insinuating voice. The satisfied tone made it all to clear that he would be happy to have the company of an attractive women for a while. Most women, however, would find that cheesy smile and unshaved face appalling, but that did not stop him from blinking his eye and laugh a muffled laugh.

 

[Cherubian]

Hell of a way to celebrate one’s 18th birthday, standing at some dusty roadside a few miles out of Callaghan right after dawn with her arm outstretched and her thumb up high in the air. Trying to catch a ride in the slim hope that someone would be on his way that early in the morning.

It did not matter, honestly. She just kept walking along the road, turning and lifting her thumb on the rare occasion that she heard the sound of an approaching car. For now all she wanted to was to get away, finally get out of that backwater town that had been the stage for all of her life until now. Most of all to get away from him. From her stepfather.

Yesenia – what a name, her mother must have gotten it out of some soap opera. It kind of figured, her mother lived in her own world, a world made up of cheap novels and increasing amounts of alcohol, had done so since the day her father died in a traffic accident a month before she was born. Her mother had been searching for a new man in her live, a replacement, but what she got was Paolo.

On the surface he was a dream, picture perfect body, handsome face and a gaze that made women’s hearts melt. But beneath that shiny surface that he spent most of his time to maintain he was rotten, mean and most of all violent. It did not matter that her mother earned what little the family had to live with, he acted like he was the undisputed master of the household, fucking whatever other woman he pleased and beating her mother and her whenever he felt like it. Sadly her mother had long ago lost the strength to fight back, and surrendered to her fate.

Yesenia had not. When she was fourteen she had secretly started to visit the local Martial Arts dojo. Mr Chung, a Chinese immigrant, out of pity had taken her in free of charge if she would do the occasional light chores, and she had turned out to be a natural. Her step father had found out the hard way when she was sixteen, and from that day on she at least was safe from him. However her mother still refused to kick out the bastard. She would have loved to help her more, but she simply saw no way. So when she got the notice that she had indeed gotten the stipend for that little college up in Des Moines she decided to go. She longed for an opportunity to live her life easily, and to no longer have to fight her way through it with her guard up at all times. Maybe this was it.

Courses would not start until fall, but she simply could not stand to stay a day longer than necessary, so at the first possible opportunity she left, planning to use the time to settle in and earn a bit on the side with the occasional odd job. It should not be too hard, not only was she smart, but also pretty. The painful years had not yet managed to leave a trace on her beautiful and innocent face, tanned by the sun and framed with a wild mane of raven black hair, and her training at Mr. Chung’s had shaped her body admirably, slender, toned and firm without being overly muscular, but still leaving the supple flesh of her breasts as massive as ever. Currently she was wearing an old pair of jeans, similarly dated sneakers, and a dark blue T-Shirt stretching over her chest. All her other belongings were in her backpack. She felt daring, and for the first time in her life free, and free of worries.

There were motor sounds approaching from behind again, and routinely she turned, her arm coming up almost out of its own accord. Lo and behold, that pickup did indeed slow down, and the driver asked her whether she wanted a ride. He looked old, and many would have instinctively shrunk back at the sight of him and his less that masterful attempt at being friendly, but Yesenia knew what could hide under the prettiest of surfaces, so she did not care. Why fault him for the fact that he liked her looks and let it show? She just smiled back, the picture perfect sight of a happy girl, as she replied “Oh yes, that would be grand. Anything that can get me further northward.”

 

[Mr. D]

The satisfied grin he made when she accepted his offer was a horrible sight - it was obvious that he had other priorities then paying for a dentist. To make room for her he moved down a six pack of beer and a couple of old rugged porn magazines from the passenger seat. She got a quick look of a picture of some big busted blonde porn star getting a cucumber pressed down her throat, with the header "Good girls eat their vegetables" written in big letters over it, before he pushed the magazines down on the floor.

"Well, jump in then." he said and opened the door. The complete stranger with whom she had just agreed to spend hours, if not days, wore a pair of since long ago washed out blue jeans and a baggy t-shirt with the text "FUCK THE GOVERNMENT" printed on it in red. The sweat spots under his arms were huge, and the wunderbaum that was hanging from the rear mirror did a poor job in covering up the ingrained smell of sweat. His belt buckle, a big brass one with the lone star flag of Texas engraved on it, was opened. Maybe it was to accommodate his huge belly, or maybe he had been doing something while looking at that picture. With a beautiful young girl in the passenger seat, he wouldn't need any pictures no more.

"I'm Chuck, and I'm driving so far north you can possibly get in this country, so if you want to get the hell out of here, I'm your man." he croaked with a ingratiating voice. "I'm heading for Minneapolis, to deliver some cargo for a customer. You see, I am in the special deliveries business." While he spoke, he took the liberty to judge her body with his eyes, carefully examining it from top to toe, stoping for a long time at her cleavage. This unbrushed fatso did not bother to try to hide the fact that he was staring at her breasts. "And I don't mind bringing some extra cargo as long as it is fine looking like this." he added with a laugh.

Chuck was indeed in the delivery business. For many years now he had travelled the roads across the continent in his old pickup truck, making sure that his customers property was delivered safe and sound to its intended destination. He owned a trailer that was parked outside Houston, and maybe you could call it his "home", but he was only there once or twice a year. The rest of the time he was touring the states, and there was not a single highway in the hole nation that he had not drove. That was the way he wanted his life - always on the run, no attachments to anyone or anything, freedom in its purest and most complete form. He slept in the car most nights, and sometimes at cheap motels when he needed a shower after a week or two, and he ate at truck stops or Hooters. In fact, his real home was not that old trailer - his real home was the highways.

The jobs he took was just to be able to pay the few expenses he had, mostly food and beer. And his business payed quite well - It was mostly drugs and weapons he transported, and the risk of getting busted by the cops made it a profitable occupation. But there were no drugs and no weapons under that tarpaulin now, no, there were something that would land him in far more trouble if that big wooden crate back on the board would be opened.

 

[Cherubian]

“You’re driving all the way to Minneapolis? Would that mean you could drop me off in Des Moines? Now that’s what I call being lucky.” Her mouth broadened in a wide grin, and all the maybe not quite so aesthetic aspects of the pickup’s driver cabin immediately paled compared to the prospect of having gotten a free trip all the way on her first try. That grin was even unperturbed when his eyes feasted on her breasts and his last comment only emphasized the open display of … well, was it mere admiration, or already lustful longing?

It does not matter she told herself. The way Chuck looked like he probably had severe problems finding female company at all, even though it was not his fault, and he had to resort to that sort of magazines. She knew she might be a bit naïve at the moment, but if he really was worse than she gave him credit for, she could always deal with that when it came up. And she had to be honest, his open unconcealed stares fixated on her bosom did feel nice in a weird way, it seemed some part of her liked the attention she was getting. So if he wanted to, let him all he wanted, well as long as he was able to keep the truck on the road.

So she added a quick “Let me just stow away my backpack” before she did just that, quickly lifting the tarpaulin without checking what else was beneath it and shoving her single piece of luggage underneath, so it would be protected on the very rare chance that they would encounter rain. Once that was done she hopped into the passenger cabin – it took her a moment to adjust to the smell, but not longer – and sit down on the passenger seat, instinctively reaching back and fastening the seat belt around her chest.

“Ready to go Chuck, let the horses run” was her comment as she had closed the passenger door behind her and was smiling at him.

 

[Mr. D]

Even before the door was fully closed he pushed the gas pedal down to the bottom, the engine made a loud roar and the truck started with a jerk. Speed limits did not seem to concern him, and his seat belt wasn't even buckled. But after all the road was empty apart from the truck in this ungodly hour. He picked up a cigarette from his pocket, and left the wheel with both hands to light it.

When she fastened her seat belt, he just shook his head, muttering something barely hearable. "Don't even trust the driving skill of her own driver… Such a pussy." Then he continued in a louder voice: "So, what have we got here then? A lonely teenage girl trying to catch a lift to a place far, far away… Let me guess." He pretended to think for a couple of seconds, rubbing his chin. "A dropout escaping military school? No… You look fit enough to make it through that." he said, still not taking his eyes of her body. He didn't seem to care much about the road - his eyes was on her, one hand was holding the cigarette, and the other was just resting nonchalantly on the wheel. "Maybe a lover longing to meet her long lost love?" he said with a theatrical voice, continuing his guessing game. "Or who knows, a cold blooded murderer trying to escape justice?" He laughed out loud at his own joke, blowing out smoke from his open mouth. "Come on Yesenia, tell me, what are you running away from?"

The trucks engine coughed and rumbled as the speed meter approached 150 miles per hour, and the check engine light was blinking. Chuck, however, seemed to be in his right element, feeling like a fish in water as the car rushed down the road.

 

[Cherubian]

“Oh yes, you caught me” she bent forward and intensely looked at him, her eyes rolling and her mouth a bit ajar in her best impression of lunacy. It was fortunate – well, depending on whom you ask - that her T-Shirt was rather high cut, or he would have gotten quite a look at her cleavage. “You know, I butchered the complete Callaghan boy scout group with a chainsaw. I got all their noses in my backpack to prove it. And now I am on the prowl for new and fresh meat. You want to volunteer?”

She held that position for two more moments before she slumped back into her seat, her eyes now primed on the road ahead of her. “No, it is nothing so fantastic. I am just sick of that ass of a stepfather my mother brought into the house, and I could not stand living under the same roof with him for even a day longer. Fortunately I no longer have to.” After that she fell silent, for almost a minute left to her own thoughts, only half aware at the pace the landscape outside was rushing past them and the disconcerting noises the motor made. If Chuck really did this for a living he should know what he was doing.

But finally she snapped back to the here and now, and chasing the dark thoughts away with a smile she turned to her driver again, a bit surprised to notice that even now he seemed to have been able to keep one eye on her. “You don’t mind if I make myself a bit more comfortable, do you?” Without waiting for his reply she immediately undid the seat belt, following his example and relieving her breasts of that nagging pressure, and then reached down to get her bare feet out of her sneakers and socks, tucking those under the seat as she lifted her legs up on the dashboard, reclining in her seat as she did so. “Ahh, much better” was her languorous comment. “But say, cowboy, what precious cargo are you delivering this time?”

 

[Mr. D]

He laughed at her mass murderer impersonation, playing scared and raising his hands to his cheeks in a chocked guesture. To her story about getting away from her stepdad he just nodded and commented it with a short but pithy "Shit happends." Then he let her sink into her own thoughts, and only be disturbed by the music from the stereo, and the singers tedious shouting about running to the hills, running for your life.

When she asked him about his cargo, he took his time before he spoke. For the first time since he had first laid his eyes on her, that cunning and smug look on his face disappeared and he actually looked thoughtful. "Some say its invaluable, so precious it is an insult even to try to decide its monetary worth." he explained and paused before he continued in a more easy-going voice. "But I know better than that, it can be bought and sold just like everything else in this world." He seemed satisfied with his quasiphilosophical exposition and nodded slowly to himself.

Before she got the chance to ask any follow up question on his hollow reply, he countered with an other question. "If you can ask nosy questions, so can I. How come a girl like you seem so muscular and fit? I mean you look like you could take not only the boy scouts but half of the marine without even needing a chain saw. Shouldn't a girl of your age spend more time in front of the mirror perfecting her makeup and less time at the gym? It sure would make you prettier to look at."

He spattered out his third, or maybe it was his forth, cigarette butt through the open window and looked at her with a sneer. It was obvious that he was curious how she would react to his not very carefully concealed insult.

 

[Cherubian]

Yesenia became just a tad bit suspicious when he tried to talk his way around what exactly he had loaded in the back. What could be so strange that he would not tell? Well, she could care less truth be told, and she shrugged her shoulders to communicate just that.

His next question, however, did catch her by surprise. Was her training really starting to show that obviously? She could not help but let a quick gaze wander over her bare arms. Well yes, she was not that soft, but that had not kept the boys from hitting on her, it just made them more careful which was a good thing.

She was therefore tempted to reply that a fat gut like his would not make her look pretty either, but bit that sharp retort back at the last moment. He was supposed to give her a free ride across the country, after all, so she would be more lenient. What she finally gave was the more polite reply “Well, spending time in the gym does feel good” she was not going to tell him exactly how she kept in shape “plus it helps to fit into all these clothes some of the girls in my class already have problems with. I have not heard that many complaints yet.”

And then she simply had to add “And the way you have been looking at me does not really suggest you find me ugly, either.”

 

[Mr. D]

He smiled at her last remark, her fierce attitude seemed to tickle him. "Ugly? No, not ugly…" he said with an amused voice. "But you will have to do better to keep me entertained all the way to Minnesota, girl." His remark sounded surprisingly judgmental, almost like he thought he was the jury in some kind of beauty contest. "And those clothes you are talking about can hardly be the ones you are wearing no." he continued his verdict, shaking his head in disappointment.

He lifted his hands from the wheel in a gesture of defense. "Look, I am not out to hurt your feelings, all I am saying is that for a girl in your position sex appeal is the only working currency, and right now your just not appealing enough." He said it in a casual tone, like it was something completely normal to say to a stranger, like he was just small talking with an old friend. The contrast to the actual meaning of what he said was huge.

They were all alone, they had left the last lonely houses at the outskirts of the city some time ago. There were just the two of them, the strange, fat old man and the young, lonely girl, on the wide plains of the american south. It was like they were trapped in their own microcosm, a microcosm that was growing weirder and weirder.

He paused for a moment to let the words sink in, but he was in no way done with her yet. "No... You need to do better." he concluded. "Why don't you give me your panties? Take them off right here, right now, and give them to me." It was phrased like a question, but his suddenly stern voice made it sound like an order. "It is the least you can do to pay for the ride." His face contained no clues to if he was joking or not, there was no nervousness or doubt, just a pair of dark demanding eyes looking down into hers.

 

[Cherubian]

“Give you my…?” She did not finish the sentence. So much for him being some poor misunderstood but down at his heart nice guy trapped in an ugly shell. That request definitely was not nice.

She kept looking at him, and wondering what to do now. He could not be serious, claiming she did not appeal to him enough when at every opportunity his eyes were glued to her tits. But what were her options? Would he really stop right now and kick her out, here in the middle of nowhere? Or should she call his bluff? But why should she?

Something else stirred inside her, some formerly suppressed dark curiosity. What would happen if she did exactly what he asked her? How would he react to that, how much would his eyes bulge at that sight? That dark voice told her to go ahead and just do it, since there was nothing to be afraid of. Nothing but the arousal that odd scene might cause her…

So after those few endless seconds she just shrugged her shoulders. “Well, if you are the sort of guy that this makes happy…” and began to unbuckle her belt. With her hands tucked into her waistband she began to pull down – or rather up, as her legs were currently resting on the dashboard – her jeans, revealing her extremely well shaped legs as the fabric slid over her knees and she pulled her feet out of it, letting the pants drop to the floor. At least her T-Shirt was long enough to go over her hips and barely cover that spot of intense interest between her legs for now as she repeated the movement once more, this time with a far smaller piece of clothing. Finally her outstretched arm held it up towards him, and she added “Well, here you are cowboy, but I have my doubts that it will fit you.”

 

[Mr. D]

He followed her movements closely with his intense eyes, but his face seemed calm and showed no sign of surprise or chock - he did not even blink as she started to take her jeans off. Had he expected her to follow his perverted, outlandish order, just like a major would expect his men to follow his orders no matter how bizarre they were? Until now he had made no effort to hide his lust - he had looked outright horny - but now he just looked cold and detached.

He snatched the tiny panties from her hand, and then swung his trophy around his index finger a couple of laps. "Good girl. You are already starting to become an asset to me - such a natural talent when it comes to obedience should not be wasted." he said with a snide voice deprived of all feelings but disdain. It was hard to believe that he had sounded so playfully amused just a minute ago.

Without bothering to ask for permission, he pressed her legs wider apart with his right hand to make way to her pussy. There were no caressing, no fingertips stroking her thighs or circling her sensitive areas. No, all he did was to take the panties, and with two purposeful fingers press the little piece of cloth into her body. To make sure the job was properly done he let his index and middle finger sink all the way up her pussy, forcing her pussylips apart, pressing her panties deeper in. Without any hesitation he had crossed her private zone and turned it into his own backyard.

With his hand still resting on her belly, and his fingers still deep inside her, he continued talking. "Since you insist on calling me cowboy we better find a name for you as well. What do you think suits a girl in your position? Where do you think the cowboys went to do this?" he asked, and took out his fingers, but leaving the panties inside, giving her filled up cunt a smack just to underline the question.

 

[Cherubian]

Mostly Yesenia was just too perplexed at what he was doing to react with more than an incredulous stare down between her legs. At first she had thought all he wanted to do was grope a feel of her, and maybe get his fingers wet inside her, and while not realy what she was looking forward to - or was she? - it would at least have been acceptable. But that? Why on earth did he have to stuff her panties inside her? She was still dry, and the fabric rubbed painfully against her inner walls, it just hurt, and the way it stuffed her it felt entirely too uncomfortable.

So as soon as his hand was withdrawn her own fingers quickly dug into her, fetching the balled up piece of cloth and retrieving it to her relief. That felt much better, and she had a snide comment to boot, as she looked at him with a challenging stare "So do you want to have them now, or do you not?" as she held the crumpled piece of clothing up to him "And what exactly was this supposed to be for? You know, that hurt!"

"And where the comboys went? I think they had nuthouses even back then for guys who thought it was fun to stuff something up a girls pussy that did not belong there, horsey or not."