Truck Stop - Cover

Truck Stop

Copyright© 2007 by Torrent

Chapter 2

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 2 - On the road to Memphis, with an Indian princess and a load of FuckFoam, Daniel finds true love.

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rough  

There wasn't no doctor or hospital nearby. I asked, but they just laughed. But one guy who was halfway human said there was a clinic in Dickson, about 25 miles away. Just get off at State Road 96 and head west.

We got to Dickson way past midnight. Everything was dark. If there was a clinic, I sure as hell didn't know where it was. I pulled into the parking lot of what once had been a shopping center, checked to see if Cherry was still alive in the bunk, then made myself as comfortable as I could on the front seat and went to sleep.

Someone hammering on the window woke me up. The sun was so bright, I couldn't see at first. Then my eyes adjusted. It was a kid, a boy about 12. He was looking through the window and yelling something about a naked lady. He pointed upward.

I waved him away and opened the door.

"Mister, you better get that naked lady out of here before folks start coming by," said the kid.

I looked where he was pointing. Cherry was sitting on top of the cab, buck naked, in one of them yoga positions — Lotus or whatever. Her eyes was closed and she seemed to be in a trance.

"Jesus, Cherry," I said. "What the hell you doing up there?"

She opened her eyes and gave me a little smile. "Getting well," she said.

"Well, damn. Get well with your clothes on, for Christ's sake," I said. I turned to the kid. He was grinning.

"She's real pretty," he said. "I've never seen a lady naked before — except my sister, once, back when I was little. She was 14."

"Well, quit looking at this one," I said in as stern a voice as I could muster. I wasn't really angry. I was glad Cherry had recovered enough to climb atop the truck. They say Di-Clones are hard to hurt and heal fast. I guess it's true.

She had gotten down onto the hood. I held out my arms, and she jumped into them. It was wonderful to hold her, but she cried out. I guess her ribs was still sore.

While Cherry got dressed, I asked the kid where we could buy food.

"You don't need to buy it," he said. "My mom would be glad to fix you something. I live right up the road."

"You sure?" I asked.

The kid nodded. "She likes to meet strangers. We don't get many."

So the kid climbed into the truck and sat between us and introduced himself. His name was Tim. I drove till he told me to stop. It was in front of a neat little brick house. There was a flower garden and a big elm tree. The only thing didn't look nice was a rusted out pickup in the side yard. I could see it hadn't been driven in a long time.

The kid raced up the steps to the front porch and yelled, "Mom, we got company." A really pretty young woman with curly brown hair came to the screen door. She had a twinkle in her eye.

I said, "Good morning, M'am. Your boy Tim said it would be okay if we came over. I hope we're not intruding."

The woman laughed. "He's not my son, he's my kid brother. Here's my mom."

Another woman joined her at the door. The mom was good-looking, too. I guessed she was about 40.

"We can pay for a meal," I said. "And if there's a market nearby, we'd like to buy food for the road."

"Yes," said Tim's mom. "There's a market in town. But you don't have to buy a meal here. We're happy to have you. My name's Mary, and this is my daughter Elsie."

They was real nice folks. If there was a mister in the family, no one mentioned him. We sat in a little breakfast room while Mary and Elsie prepared lunch in the kitchen. They asked us all about ourselves. I said there wasn't much to tell: I was a truck driver, Cherry was my cousin, who was hitching a ride to Memphis.

"Memphis," said Mary, joining us at the table. "I really don't think you ought to try to get to Memphis with things so unsettled. Plus, I hear there's a nest of Vandals up ahead, near the bridge over Duck River."

"My boyfriend says they ambushed a semi just east of the bridge," said Elsie. "The Federals showed up late, as usual. Thing is, the Vandals all live in Hickman County; it's not like they're some mysterious gang from outside."

"Elsie's right," said Mary. "The sheriff there won't do anything to stop them, but the Federals ought to. They know where these savages live — towns like Only and Spot and even Bucksnort."

"Bucksnort?" I said. "Someone told me there's great trout fishing around there."

"You bet," said Tim. "My dad used to take me there." Then he got quiet.

No one said anything for a while, then Mary said, "My husband was killed last year. Fell asleep while driving back from Jackson late one night."

"Gosh, I'm real sorry," I said. I glanced at Cherry. She looked sad.

Mary and Elsie went into the kitchen and came back with two trays full of sandwiches.

Mary said, "We've got egg salad, we've got ham and cheese, and for Tim we've got peanut butter and mayo."

Cherry wrinkled up her nose. Tim saw her and said to me, "No, it's good — really."

Mary poured us all lemonade.

We ate for a while and said nothing. I hadn't realized how hungry I was.

Finally, Tim said, "You ever go fishing?"

"No," I said. "I can't recollect ever fishing."

"Did you do any sports?" he asked.

I tried to think, but nothing came to mind. "I guess not," I said.

"What about your dad. Did he teach you any sports?"

Mary said, "Tim, I don't think you should pry. Daniel is trying to eat."

I was glad she stepped in.


After lunch, Elsie said she'd like to walk with us into town, if we had time.

"I could give you a ride in my truck," I said.

"No, I'd like to walk, if it's okay with you."

I said sure. Cherry decided to stay at the house and rest, but Tim wanted to tag along.

The town didn't seem in all that bad a shape. At least half the houses were occupied. We passed a drug store that was open for business. Tim saw a friend inside and left us.

Elsie said there was a technical college, too, and a cannery. The aluminum foundry had closed, but there were still a fair number of small employers.

"Mom says Dickson isn't really all that much worse than it was before — " Her voice trailed off.

"You finished high school?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said. "In May."

"You gonna stick around here?"

She frowned. "I guess so. I mean, my family's here — and not just my Mom and Tim. I've got a grandmother here in Dickson and an aunt and uncle over in McEwen. And my boyfriend."

"What's he like?" I asked.

"Blow jobs," she said in an exasperated voice.

"No," I said. "I mean what's he like — what kind of person is he."

"Oh," she said, blushing at her mistake. "He's very smart and pretty athletic. Not handsome in the usual sense, but I like his looks. It's just..."

"Just what?" I asked.

"Well, like I said, he keeps wanting blow jobs. And I don't like doing them, and I'm not good at it."

We looked at each other for what seemed a long time.

Then she came up to me, put her hands on my cheeks and kissed me on the mouth. Her lips were incredibly soft. It was a terrific kiss.

She stepped back, turned and started to run away, but I caught her wrist.

"Look," I said. "I don't know how you are at blow jobs, but you sure know how to kiss. I mean it."

She was blushing again. "We better get back," she said.

"I thought you were going into town to buy something," I said.

"I lied," she said, dancing ahead of me.


Cherry slept in the house, on a sofa in the living room. I slept in the truck. I was scared to be in the house with Elsie. I wanted to fuck her in the worst possible way.

In the morning, Mary fixed us breakfast. An older man, a neighbor around 70, joined us.

"Jesse knows all about traveling in this part of Tennessee," Mary explained. "He'll give you some tips."

Jesse sat down at the table and unfolded an old road map.

"Mary's done told you about the trouble in Hickman County. Well, I just heard on the radio that the Federals have cleared that stretch of I-40, so you can feel safe about staying on it all the way to where you cross the Tennessee River and about 30 miles beyond that. It's Jackson where you're almost sure to run into trouble, not from Vandals but from the Federals themselves." He looked up at me like he knew I was planning to break the law and he was trying to ignore it.

"So my advice is to get off I-40 at State Road 22. There might be a sign that says Parkers Crossroads or Huntingdon, I'm not sure which. Anyway, head south on 22 to State Road 100, which'll take you to US 64, which'll take you right into Memphis. You got a hell of a lot better chance of making it that way than by trying to get through Jackson."

"Any towns along the way where I can get hydro?" I asked.

He scratched his chin. "Well, you probably can in Henderson. It's on 100. You'll go right through it."

I thanked him and Mary and asked about Elsie.

"She's sleeping late this morning," said Mary. "Had a late date with her boyfriend last night."

I nodded sympathetically.

"And Tim," I asked.

"Here I am," he said, coming down the stairs. He was still in his pajamas.

"Come on out and let's check the truck," I said. I showed him the whole drill, everything on the company's checklist and twice what I usually do.

Then it was time to get moving. I got in, rolled down the window and called Cherry. She was on the porch, hugging Mary.

I glanced up at the dormer window above the porch. There was Elsie, pretty as a picture. She blew me a kiss. It was a real lascivious kiss.

"Did you understand what that old man was saying?" Cherry asked, as we rolled out of town.

"Sure," I said. "I-40 to State Road 22 to State Road 100 to US 64 to Memphis, capital of the Republic of Memphis and the place where I pick up 60,000 F's, the balance they owe me. Then we have a party, and I wait around til I get another truck."

She seemed deep in thought.

"You think you can get there on back roads?" she asked.

"Of course I can," I said. I was getting annoyed. If the road that had taken us to Dickson was any indication, state roads might be in better condition than I-40, maybe because hardly anyone used them anymore. On the other hand, my maps showed only Eye Roads, so I was a little worried about getting lost. In the old days, drivers had positioning satellites and cell phones and shit like that, but all I had was a compass.

What I couldn't figure was why Cherry was nervous about getting lost. It wasn't like she had an appointment anywhere.


We made it through Hickman County okay; not a Vandal in sight. And we made it across the Tennessee River okay. It was beautiful. Cherry said she wished we had a camera. After a while, I saw the sign for State Road 22. A cop came up beside us, gave me a look, but then he sped ahead as I turned off of I-40.

Two Federals were parked at the crossroads of 22 and 100. They wanted to know what we was carrying and where we was headed. But when they noticed Cherry, I decided to take advantage of the distraction.

"I'm headed to Nashville," I said, "but first I'm taking my girlfriend to see her mother. She lives in Henderson. It's not far, is it?"

Then the cops got to arguing about how far Henderson was, and Cherry, God bless her, chimes in and says, "Can't we get moving? I've gotta pee."

The cops laughed and waved us on.

I swung onto State Road 100 feeling more optimistic than I ever had in my whole life.


Actually, we did stop in Henderson. There was an old-fashioned gas station with pumps for gasoline and diesel, and soft drink machines and a pay phone on the front porch. I'd heard pay phones were making a comeback, what with the cell system pretty much destroyed, but I didn't expect to see one in Nowheresville, Tennessee. Cherry said she wanted a Coke. I went inside and asked about hydrogen.

"Okay, you have to pull around back," said the guy behind the counter. "We keep it in a building back there. But we only got one can left."

"That's okay," I said. "One can will get me where I'm going."

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