My name is Jim, and I am an avid dirt track racing fan. It was a warm Friday night, and I was enjoying a leisurely drive to my home on the west side of Phoenix, Ariz. I had been to the stock car races at the local dirt track. It was getting late, and both my truck and I were covered in a layer of dirt from the track. A shower was going to feel great.
About a mile from home, I noticed a smaller person fighting with two larger people next to a car on the side of the road. I slowed and pulled to the side behind the combatants' car. As my lights fell on them, I saw the smaller person was a young, black, female. She was fighting for all she was worth with two men: one of them white, the other one black. The men were trying to force her into their old, beat up, car. She was doing all she could to resist getting in that car.
I pulled up within two car lengths of the rear of their car and retrieved the pistol I keep in my truck's glove compartment. I stepped out of my truck but stayed behind the door. I aimed my pistol at the larger of the two men, and loudly called to them. "Hold it right there, guys! Mam, do you need help?"
My high beams were making it difficult for the people at the car to see me, but I had a very clear view of them. The white guy yelled back. "Who the fuck are you?"
I raised my semi-automatic pistol into view and cycled the slide. That action loaded a round into the chamber. In my best in charge voice, I replied. "I'm the guy that will blow your fucking head off, if I have to."
The two men instantly stopped fighting with the girl. Without moving my gun sights from the larger man, I again asked. "Mam, do you need help?"
"Yes! Please!" Her voice quivered. She seemed to be near tears.
"Get in the truck, Miss!" I ordered.
As the girl ran toward my truck's passenger side, I told the two men. "You two get in that piece of shit, and get the fuck out of here." They didn't seem too interested in arguing the point with me, or my pistol. Both men jumped into the car and sped off.
By the time the men were gone, the girl had gotten into the passenger side of my truck and closed the door. She was shaking with fear. She sat as close to the door as she could. I suppose she'd had enough men for one night.
Without speaking, I drove a couple of blocks to the nearest convenience store with a well-lit parking lot. In the light from the store's lot, I was able to get a good look at my passenger.
She was still shaking like a leaf in a storm and sobbing quietly. Tears were freely flowing down her cheeks. Even with her face streaked with tears, I could see she was a very nice looking young lady. She had light cocoa colored skin and fine facial features. Her black hair appeared soft and straight. It fell past her shoulders to her upper back. She looked to be in her early twenties with a slight build.
"It's okay now. They're gone. You'll be fine. I've got plenty of time. I'll take you home, or anywhere else, if you like. Where do you want to go?" I asked.
Through her sobs, she answered. "I don't know." She then burst into a full-blown cry. The tears flooded down her face.
I put my pistol away, locked the glove box, and lightly placed my hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You're safe now. You're going to be fine. Are you hurt?"
She shook her head no.
We sat in the store's lot for maybe five minutes until her sobs began to subside. I asked her. "What was that all about? Would you like to call the police?"
She again shook her head no.
"Would you like to get something to eat or drink?
"No. I ... I don't have ... I don't think so."
"I'll buy." I interrupted.
A slight smile crossed her lips. "Could I please have a Coke? If you don't mind, I think I'd like a Coke."
She agreed when I suggested she use the store's restroom to freshen up while I bought our Cokes. As she returned to my truck, I could see she was a tiny thing standing about 4" 11" and weighing less than 100 pounds. Her straight, black hair framed a cute round face. She had stopped crying and even tried to smile a bit as I handed her the Coke. She was still shaking but had calmed down a little. As she sipped her Coke, she began to relax a little.
"Would you like to talk about what just happened? You don't have to, but it might make you feel better."
She looked at me and nodded.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Jasmine! Most of my friends just call me Jay." She replied.
"Hi! My name is Jim. I'd like to be your friend. May I call you Jay?"
A smile began to form on her lips. She nodded and said. "That would be fine."
"Well, my friend Jay, I'm hungry. How about you?"
"Yes, but my purse is in that car, and I don't have any money."
"That's okay! I'll buy. Are you sure you don't want to call the police?"
"No. There's nothing important in my purse anyway. I only had a few dollars, and my ID is in my pocket. I just wish I had grabbed my clothes when I jumped out though."
"What about the assault? The cops may be able to lock those two jerks up for a while."
"No. I don't want to ever see them again."
"Alright! If you're sure. You just relax now. What would you like to eat?" I asked.
Jay shrugged and said. "I don't care. Anything will be fine."
I drove us to a local fast food joint. That's
about all that's open at night in that area of town. As we ate our sandwiches, Jay told me how she happened to find herself fighting with two jerks on the side of the road.
She said her parents had both died years ago. Her grandmother had raised her until just a couple of years ago. Shortly after Jay graduated from high school, her grandmother had suffered a stroke. She died a week later.
Jay had struggled for a couple of years trying to get by in Granny's house. She had a job, but it didn't pay enough to support her self, take care of Granny, and keep up the house. She had family in southern Los Angles and had decided to go live with them until she could get a decent job there.
Since she was nearly broke, the only way she had to California was to hitchhike. The two jerks in the car had promised to take her to Blyth, California. They tried to make her pay for the ride. When she didn't have enough money for them, they told her they would accept another form of payment. "We'll just take it out in trade." Jay quoted one of the men.
Jay said when she asked what that meant, they laughed at her. The driver then told her, "Pussy baby, pussy."
She continued. "When they stopped at the next traffic light, I jumped out of the car and ran. They caught me about 100 yards down the road. They were trying to drag me back into the car when you arrived. Thank you so much. I owe you."
"Nope! You don't owe me a thing. Jay, if I'm your friend, I will not take anything for helping you when you needed it. If you're finished eating, where can I take you?"
Jay clouded up again and the tears returned. "I don't have anywhere to go, and no money to get me there. I don't know what I'm going to do."
"Well Jay, I do. If you don't mind, you can stay in my spare room until you contact your family in Los Angles and make arrangements to get to them".
"I can't afford to pay you." She whimpered.
"You don't have to get insulting. Did I say anything about being paid? You will stay in my spare room until you can make other arrangements. It's settled. But first, we need to go to Wally World to get you something to wear."
"Thank you, Jim." Jay said as she started crying again.
"Jeez, do you ever stop crying?" I asked with a smile. I patted her shoulder and tried to comfort her. "You'll be fine. Stop your crying, now. You don't want to go shopping with your face leaking. Do you?"
"No." She cracked a very small smile.
At Wally World, she picked out a long silky nightgown, a blouse, a pair of slacks, undergarments, and, at my suggestion, a few basic cosmetics. I remembered my sister frequently said, "A little make-up can cheer a girl more than a good meal."
We then hopped back into my truck and headed toward my home.
Once there, I showed Jay the spare room and bathroom. She excused herself and disappeared down the hall to the bath. I sipped a drink and watched a little TV until she emerged from the bathroom.
Jay's silky white nightgown hung seductively over her young milk chocolate body. The gown fell down her body to just below her knees. The low neckline offered a glimpse of her smallish breasts. The silky material of her gown did very little to hide her dark brown areola and nipples. They were easily visible under the white material. Her round butt was also prominently displayed when she faced away from me.
"Jay, you're a very beautiful girl. I had better go take a shower before I embarrass myself."
She looked at me with a coy grin as I headed down the hall toward the shower. I didn't want to tell her she was turning me on. She'd had enough problems with men for one night.
.... There is more of this story ...