Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Fa/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Lesbian, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Pregnancy, 2nd POV,
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A female truck driver finds herself on a long but rewarding trip from her past to her future, when she picks up an attractive girl with problems. Their journey across the United States towards their separate destinations, parallels their growing attraction to each other. Along the way they share stories with each other, and those they meet.
I was driving a semi load of 'Starving Artists' paintings from the Port of Los Angeles to the East Coast for a series of sales to be held up and down the Central and southern Atlantic region. My first delivery would be to Greensboro, North Carolina, then three more cities in North Carolina. Then I'd pick up a load of frozen barbecue in Charlotte, and haul it up to San Francisco, then returning to LA with a load of gay boys or some such. I'm jes' kidding about the gay boys.
If you don't know what they are, 'Starving Artists' sales are those extravaganzas held in closed Sears stores, or whatever, where you walk through a bunch of folding tables set up with piles of paintings on them, and tons of cheap sculptures set up in battalions across the back and front of the 'store.' If you look hard enough, you can see the old sign work that Sears didn't bother to take down, hanging from the ceiling, like "Super Craftsman Coal Burning Stove Sale". If you really search diligently through the goods on the tables, you can find and buy "Sofa Sized Paintings" for $19, "NO PAINTINGS PRICED HIGHER" There's two cash registers set up at the front, also on folding tables, and manned by bored looking local teenaged girls.
What the paintings and sculptures are, of course, are factory produced 'artworks' from China, produced on an assembly line like a car. Can you imagine being the "artist" who gets to paint the weathered wooden fence in a landscape ... a hundred times a day, with some idiot foreman yelling at you when you don't paint it in fast enough, or because you didn't make it look exactly like the specification for the fence? Geez, talk about mind deadening
Anyway, I was making the west to east cross country run for about the five-thousandth time (ironic, huh? LOL) from LA, and I was looking forward to a nice, quiet run. I headed out of LA on I-40 and was hoping for clear weather and no traffic.
My name is Linda Cross. I'm 38, and I've been driving for Arcturus Trucking for the last ten years, ever since I got out of the Air Force. I want to be up front with you - I'm a lesbian, and you'd probably guess it pretty quick if you met me. I'm not one of those 'lipstick' gals, but I won't crack anybody's mirror, either. I'm 5'6 tall, 150 pounds, short cut blonde hair, blue eyes, and my complexion is a little weathered, but not quite shoe leather level yet. Too much sun from Arizona days flagging in A-10s in the military, followed by years of staring at rising and setting suns through a dirty truck windshield. Yeah, I've got some crows-feet, and a permanent trucker's tan too.
I don't smoke, though I used to. A scare with breast cancer five years ago kind of took the 'wild' wind out of my sails. So I don't drink either, really, though when I'm off from driving I'll occasionally have a beer. But no boilermakers, like some of those diesel dykes.
When it comes to women ... well, I haven't had much luck. Oh sure, a couple a one night stands, and I even had a gf for a couple of months when I started at Arcturus. The guys know I'm a lez, and kid me, that's fine, but they just tried to be too nice when my gf kicked me out. She said she wanted somebody more 'upscale.' She had me pegged right, I'll never be upscale, white collar, whatever, I'm just a working woman. Fuck her. Anyway, the guys stopped kidding me, stopped including me in things. It hurt me. So I said something.
"Hey, you motherfuckers, what's with all the creeping around and shutting up when I come in the room?" I said to the guys in the Arcturus break room one day.
Pete Gillespie piped up. He's an ugly mick from New York, but sweeter than maple syrup. "Linda, we heard about Tracy and you. Uh, you know, breaking up. We didn't want to say anything, you know."
"Aw, shit, Pete," I said. "It ain't gonna hurt me none if you tell me I was a knothead for chasing that little bit o' tail. What hurts me, is if you lugs stop talking to me jus' cuz that dumb-ass cunt kicks me out of her bed" I grinned at him and the other guys. Truth to tell, I WAS hurting, but them not talking to me wasn't going to make ME feel any better.
"Well, then, Linda, you come on over here and tell us which of this year's Sports Illustrated swimsuits you'd like to peel off one a these models," drawled Edgar Sessions, grinning at me.
I grinned right back. "That's more like it, you old coot," I shot back. "And I'll bet I'd get one of those girls into my bed a hell of a lot faster than YOU ever could" Well, that broke the room up, and from that point on, the guys really DID treat me like one of the boys, which was all I ever wanted.
That was nine years ago, and in that time all I had for solace was some of those 'meet and greets' with blowsy old dykes from the Ace of Spades, a girl bar near my neighborhood, and reading stories from this very Internet collection of lesbian stories. You probably don't know it, but some of these writers here can sure get a girl to imagining life isn't as hard as it really is, and that there's a beautiful woman (whether on the inside or out) waiting to bring a girl a lifetime o' happiness.
So anyway, to get to my story at long last, I pulled into a truck stop in Kingman, Arizona cuz the set of wheels on the rear left side of the trailer were making a funny noise. I pulled the tractor-trailer combo into a space alongside a Freightliner hauling auto parts, and got out to check. I own the tractor, that's the part that pulls the trailer, for all you little bitty car drivers. And by the way, yes, I DO see what y'all are doin' in there. You guys pullin' your pud - I'm just laughin' at you. You young ladies wearing tiny little shorts, or lettin' your skirt ride up to your crotch ... ohh, I'm not laughin' at YOU, no ma'am You're the stuff that dreams are made of, heh.
But as I was sayin' - I own the tractor, it's a nice sleeper - a nice 2007 Kenworth T600 Aerocab, and I haul either an Arcturus trailer, or more often, the customer's trailer. It being a sleeper, I've got the sleeping compartment nicely fixed up, with little flower vases (don't laugh) and framed photographs of my two dogs, Bruiser and Polly, and my cat Sneezer. Of course, they don't come along when I drive, though some truckers bring a pet. I just don't think it's fair to the animals. I leave 'em with my neighbor, an old widder woman named Janice, Janice Smith. She has a mole the size of a Duncan yo-yo on the side of her nose, but she don't pay it no mind.
I was outside looking at the rear axle when I heard two people arguing nearby. Actually, it was one person yelling and one person whimpering.
"Goddamn it, you ugly bitch I TOLD you to take your FUCKING pill Shit, I KNOW it's not mine anyway, don't you try to stick ME with bein' responsible. You go see the fucking guy whose dick that thing came from - don't you come 'round me anymore"
I heard what sounded like a loud 'crack' sound, followed by the slamming of an SUV door, and then peeling out. I peeked around the end of the trailer to see a black Isuzu Ascender with Arizona plates zooming directly away from my vicinity, and a bedraggled looking brown-haired teenage girl looking forlornly at it as it rapidly got smaller. I could hear her crying. She had a hand-shaped white mark on her cheek, rapidly turning red as the shocked blood from his slap rushed back in.
I've seen enough of these domestic scenes, and five'll get you ten, ninety nine percent of the time the car comes back and the woman crawls in. So I went back to checking over my rig.
I found some small debris that had got caught in between the sets of tires, and pulled it out, making sure it hadn't abraded the rubber. I didn't need one of those tires blowing out while I was doing seventy. Wouldn't likely hurt me none, but it might hurt somebody else bad. I heard about a motorcyclist passing a cotton bale truck in Nogales once, who got decapitated by a bad recap tire coming off the bale truck. I heard the bike went on straight up the road for a half a mile, while that cyclist just sat on it like nothin' happened, except his head was wedged under the guard rail back where the tire blew. Whooh
Since I had had to stop anyway, I decided to take a pee break, and then get myself some coffee. I've never taken to those little bitty energy drinks. Syed Azmir, one of our drivers, swears by 'em. I dunno, different strokes, I guess. I think he's a Muslim, but he's a nice man.
The little gal at the counter of the McDonald's was just as sweet as could be, and I sort of got a vibe that maybe she'd be interested in taking a ride, if you know what I mean. She was a young thing, couldn't a been more than nineteen, with long, blonde hair, and beautiful breasts. Not real big ones, I like 'em small (as if I could pick and choose, huh?), but she smiled like smiles were free or something, and her fingers lingered in my palm when she gave me my change, and she didn't look down or sideways the way most people do when they're talking to a stranger. She just looked me straight in the eye, her smile going back and forth from her mouth to her sweet blue eyes. Too many people never learn to smile with their eyes, but she could. Damn, could she.
Honestly, I could feel myself getting wet. I even got a little thrill run through me. Out of the blue, I said, "They got y'all working hard here?" I know it doesn't sound like much, but I get tongue-tied with beautiful girls.
"Yeah, the manager runs a little short on giving out hours, so when we do get called in, we're pretty much running around like mad all shift." She smiled again, then said, "That's a pretty vest you're wearing." I usually wear a flowered vest I picked up in Okinawa over my flannel shirts. Kind of fems me up a little.
"Um, thanks," I said. I couldn't think what to say next as the girl, 'Beth', her name badge said, looked expectantly at me. I guess I shoulda just asked for her phone number, but I've had a girl's sweet smile once or twice turn into the look you give three day old road kill after I thought the road was clear and DID ask, and so I'm a little gun shy. Besides, the fat trucker behind me, who smelled like a pig farm, cleared his throat like I was the only thing keeping him from his six pack of Big Macs.
So I slunk away from the counter with my coffee, and headed for the door. I glanced back to see the girl looking my way as she took the fat guy's greasy dollar bills, and I think I saw a glint of disappointment in her eyes. I coulda kicked myself, but there was no way I was going back to that counter. I pictured myself doing just that thing though, then swinging over the low stainless steel counter, taking her in my arms, and kissing the hell out of those sweet lips, and hearing her sigh with happiness.
I remember some stories from senior year of high school, about some guy named Walter Mitty, and how he'd do that kind of stuff in his head. That's me, Linda Mitty, always imaginin' a happy ending. I sighed and walked back to the truck. I walked around the rig, like I always do before I start her up. I read somewhere that pilots do that, it made sense for me to do it too. Even if it only saved the life of one stray kitten in all the years I do it, it'd be worth it, right? I think so.
I guess it was good I did it this time, because the brown haired girl from before was sitting on the ground behind the rig, indian fashion, still crying.
"Hey, what's up?" I said. She looked up at me, her eyes all red, her cheeks tear-stained. "Man, you look a mess," I breathed. I guess too loud, but she did calm down some.
"Hey, c'mon," I said. "What's the matter? Your man hasn't come back yet?" I hoped she saw me as friendly. I wanted her to get up so I didn't accidentally back into her when I let up the clutch.
She spoke. "No, he's gone, he's not coming back. I guess I was just feeling sorry for myself."
"Um, want some coffee?" I asked, sort of awkwardly, I guess. She looked at my cup and smiled.
"You went over to the McDonald's specifically to get me a coffee? You are darned considerate, lady." I don't remember the last time I was called 'lady.'
"I'll bet I got the order perfectly right," I joked. "Tell me how you like it."
"Two of those amaretto flavored creamer things, and three sugars," she said, really smiling this time. "Did you get it that way?"
"Yup," I said, grinning myself. I reached it out and she took it. She took a swig, and did a perfect spit take.
"This is black, no sugar" she protested.
"That's right," I said. "And when you finish that, then you can have your amaretto creamers and sugar." She laughed, a light, melodic laugh. I hadn't heard one of those in a while.
"Thanks," she said.
"For the coffee?" I said. "Think nothing-"
"No, for making me laugh," she interjected. "And for making me forget about Mike The Ass Hole." The way she said it made it sound like that was the name he signed to legal documents. She touched her cheek on the left side of her face gingerly, where Mike The Ass Hole had tagged her. Big man.
"He your husband, or boyfriend?" I asked. I was starting to like this girl. Just being friendly, of course.
"Neither. I was just staying with him, dealing cards at the Riverside Casino in Laughlin, and paying my rent in sex. He used to be a friend, but he changed. I think he was messing with crystal. I'm better rid of him. I'm going home to my folks in Fayetteville, North Carolina. Oh, and my name's Virginia, Virginia Staples," she said, and extended her hand to shake. I took it, and we shook. She had a nice, firm grip.
"Hey, Virginia, I'm Linda," I said. "So, how are you getting there from here?" I asked.
"I hadn't thought of that," she said. "Mike and I lived in Bullhead City, and came to Kingman to look at the locomotives and stuff on Route 66." I looked at her, I guess my look must have given away my thoughts. "Yeah, I thought it was stupid, too," she said.
We were both silent for a while, I guess maybe thinking the same thing from different directions. She was in a fix, that was for sure.
"Well, I don't usually take riders," I said, "But I think you're gonna have trouble catching anything more than Valley Fever from out of Kingman. I could drop you off in Flagstaff, you could maybe catch a train or bus from there..."
"I'd be grateful," she said.
"Okay, then," I said. I took a closer look at her. I guessed she was about nineteen or twenty, but she'd seen some recent hard times. Still, she looked like a championship dog that's been bounced around and pulled out of the city pound. You never know what they'll end up looking like if you just treat them right. Although my record at picking up chicks is pretty poor, it doesn't mean I don't appreciate 'em. I could look at the empty passenger seat for the next 2100 miles, or I could look at a dusty, pretty girl for the next 150. It was an easy call.
The two and a half hour trip seemed to pass like nothing. It turned out that Virginia's family back
in North Carolina were ex-military, and we swapped stories about Okinawa. She'd been there as a little girl with her father being a Marine colonel, and I'd been stationed there as an airman. Of course, we'd seen the island from pretty different points of view, heh.
Before I knew it, we were approaching Flagstaff. I pulled off at a truck stop just before the city, and asked her what she wanted to do. She was kind of quiet, then she gritted her teeth, looked at me, and said, "You can let me off here, I'll decide what to do after a bit. I really appreciate all you've done." She extended her hand to shake.
I looked at her. "You don't have any money, do you?" I said. She didn't say anything. "So, you were gonna do what you had to do to get home, huh?" She still didn't say anything. I knew I was right, and we both knew what it meant. She was going to end up trying to turn a couple of tricks there in the truck stop for money to make it back East. More likely, she'd get arrested or beat up, or worse.
"Look, I don't have enough cash to lend you for the bus, all I carry is a company credit card, but if you want, I can take you along to Albuquerque, maybe we'll think of something." I shrugged, it was all I could do for her.
She looked undecided, then said, "I always pay my bills. Maybe I could have my folks wire you some money?"
"You don't need to pay, honey," I said quietly. "The seat is free, and I reckon I can afford to spring for a burger or sump'n." I grinned. "I've already got a cup o' coffee invested." She laughed, and looked relieved at having her unpleasant decision put off a while. I put the truck back into gear, and we moved out back onto I-40 without a fuss, other than some red-haired, white faced clown in a Camry cutting me off on the on-ramp.
"Goddamn motherfucker" I yelled without thinking, giving the ass hole a blast with my air horn. He sailed on, completely unconscious. I sighed.
Virginia giggled. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" she said, smiling. I felt my face turn red.
"Sorry," I said. "I don't usually have an audience."
"S'kay," she said. "That guy WAS an ass hole." I guess we talked about a lot of stuff along the way to New Mexico. Once I get rolling I can carry on a conversation as well as anybody, it's just getting the ignition coil to start things that's my problem.
About an hour along towards Albuquerque I noticed something interesting, and said, "See that yellow Mercedes?" Virginia peered over the hood.
"The convertible that just passed us?" she asked.
"Uh huh," I said. "When I pass on their left, check out what they're doing." Virginia looked curious.
"Um, okay," she said. On a downhill grade, I was able to catch up to the Mercedes ragtop. The top was down, it being a typically sunny Arizona day. Now, normally, if a Mercedes wanted to go faster than me, I'd look like a little squashed dog turd in its rear view mirror in about five seconds. But from what I'd seen when they first passed me, I had a hunch the driver wouldn't have her mind on speed right now.
"Holy shit" Virginia squealed. "The girl in the passenger seat is fucking the driver with a big ass dildo" I thought Virginia was gonna fall out, she was leaning out so far.
That's exactly what I'd seen. Two very cute, college age girls, obviously rich bitches, the passenger, a black haired cutie with her right hand under her own short tennis skirt, her panties down around her ankles, frigging her pussy for all she was worth. Her left hand holding a long dildo, maybe eight inches or so, and fucking it in and out the driver's hole. She was a hot looking blonde with ginormous tits.
It was one of those scenes you see every now and then as a trucker, and that you try to freeze in your memory like a photograph. Virginia squealed and laughed, then the Mercedes zoomed away from us like a distant memory.
"They both looked up at the same time and saw me, I guess us keeping even with them gave it away," Virginia said, stifling a laugh. "But the best was, the blonde looked pissed and started to pull away, her pedal to the metal, and the black haired girl took that dildo out of her pussy, looked back at us, smiled and started sucking on it like it was a dick"
"Whoah," I said.
"Did you ever do that?" Virginia asked.
"Do what?" I asked.
"You know ... used a dildo on another girl."
"Honey, you've GOT to figure I'm a lesbian," I said.
"Yeah, I did," she said. There was a silence for a little while. "So, did you?"
I laughed, and shook my head. "Naah, never really had a relationship that long," I said.
"What's it like?" she asked.
"Bein' a lesbian," she said.
"Honey, are you coming on to me?" I asked. I wouldn't have minded if she was.
"No," she replied, maybe a little too fast. "I was just making conversation."
"Well, I'll answer you anyway," I said. "It's probably a lot like it is for you. Usually getting fucked in the most unpleasant ways, and not getting the good kind of fucking nearly as often as I'd like."
That seemed to satisfy her. We listened to the Sirius for another hour, then she spoke up again.
"So how long you been driving?" Virginia asked, settling in her seat.
"Trucks?" I asked.
"Yeah," she said.
I gave a short laugh. "I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari, Tehachapi to Tonopah. Does that tell you anything?" Virginia looked at me blankly.
"From Linda Ronstadt," I said. Still nothing. "'Willing'?" Still nothing.
"You never heard of Linda Ronstadt, or one of her biggest hits?" I sighed. I could feel old age creeping up, no, galloping up, on me. "Here, I've got a Ronstadt folder on the MP3 player, listen
to this." I played the song for her. When it was over, she looked at me.
"That's a beautiful song, I like it" she said. "But it's really sad."
"You think so?" I said.
"Well, yeah It's all about a trucker's loneliness, isn't it? It sure sounds like it."
"Huh, you know, I've never thought of it quite that way. I've got a whole different image in my head when I hear that song, kinda memorable and kinda sad - but a different kind of sad," I said, smiling a little.
"What's that?" she asked, looking at me curiously. I smiled again. I began my story.
"Back when I was in the Air Force, I was stationed for a time in Tucson at Davis-Monthan AFB. I met a female Lieutenant named Sherilynn Barber who had a friend who was a backup singer in Linda Ronstadt's band. Well, of course the Lieutenant was a lesbian - she's passed on, now, God rest her - she was a real hero, stick around and I'll tell her story sometime - but we were all of us like that, damn closeted - we'd a been kicked out if the government got wind of how we were. I guess times haven't changed much?
Anyway, we were in this singer's apartment in the foothills of the Catalinas, north side of Tucson, drinking red wine and smoking a little dope. She'd been a high school classmate of Linda's, only about fifteen years behind her, but Linda's roots run deep in Tucson, everybody knows her. The girl's name was Katia Hernandez, and this was around December of '95. At the time, I had no idea if the singer was a lez or not, but I sure know she was awful cute. I've got the worst 'gaydar' in the world, y'know.
Sherilynn said she had to get back to her apartment, she said she had an important call to make to some Captain ... I didn't know the captain, but I was damned sure it wasn't a guy Anyway,
there I was alone with this cute little black-haired singer, and we were just talking about this and that. Then she said, "Do you all worry much about having to sneak around for your lovin'?"
I was pretty stoned by that point, but I said, "What the fuck do you mean about sneaking around?" I coulda got in a fight or fucked, I was pretty out of it.
Virginia, on the other side of the truck cab, laughed, and said, "Yeah, sometimes that shit can fuck you up." I nodded agreement.
I said, "Now you got to remember, I looked pretty good back then, I didn't have a face like shoe leather in those days." Virginia frowned and shook her head slightly, as I returned to my story.
Katia (the singer in Tucson) smiled, and said, "Calm down, tiger, I was just feeling around to see if you're a dyke like Sherilynn. You are, aren't you?"
"Umm, if I am... ?" I said, not sure where she was going with things.
"Well, then..." she said softly. She slid over next to me on the floor, put her right hand behind my head, gently cradling it, then brought her lips to mine, and kissed me, softly and gently. We must have kissed for at least five minutes straight.
When we came up for air, she said, " ... then I'm gonna do that."
"Wow," was all I could say. "So, you like girls, huh?"
"You mean you don't?" she teased. "You don't kiss like you don't like girls..."
"Oh fuck yes," I breathed. "God, you're fucking beautiful," I said. I didn't really know what else to say, but I wanted her naked in bed with me more than anything else in the world. I just wasn't sure how to get her there. I never did have much of a smooth manner. Fortunately, she did.
"C'mon sweetie, I want you to fuck me silly," she said, getting to her feet and pulling me to mine. She took my hand and led me to her bedroom. She had it all fixed up with souvenir kind of stuff
from cities where the band had toured. "Do you mind if I put on some music?" she asked. I shook my head.
"No, please do," I said, sitting on the bed. She put on Ronstadt's 'Heart Like a Wheel' CD. I'd never heard it before, but I sure learned to love it.
When "It Doesn't Matter Anymore" came on, Katia began swaying dreamily before me. She slowly pulled her white peasant blouse off one tanned shoulder, the creamy white of her blouse against her darker skin. Then she let it slip back up, as she pulled it off her other smooth shoulder, smiling invitingly.
She flounced up the hem of the loose hanging blouse, showing me flashes of her smooth skin, her flat stomach, and the underside of her sweet breasts. I could feel an itching in my crotch, and ground the heel of my hand into the rough fabric there of my jeans. Katia leaned down, still swaying in time to the music, and kissed me again, her lips so soft and warm and plump, tiny tongue's tip touching mine. Her breath raced over my lips. Small, soft sounds from both of us, momentarily building pleasure.
Katia turned her back to me, lifting her blouse up from her waist, her back so beautifully formed, her shoulder blades perfect, like little angel's wings, her skin perfect, looking like cinnamon candy. She lifted the blouse up, higher, above her head, her long black hair gathering, then flowing down over that perfect back in a glossy, ebony tidal wave. She looked back at me, over her shoulder, her brown eyes big and looking so innocent.
Her plump, round butt cheeks were tight in her faded jeans, rough blue fabric focusing my eyes there. I think she knew exactly what she was doing, and I was so glad. She crossed her arms over her breasts, then slowly danced back round to face me, her innocent eyes so full of temptation. I was ready to give in, no problem She lowered one arm slightly, letting me see more and more of her full breast, then the rounded tan darkness of her areola, big, like the top of a gear shift knob.
Then the stiffness of her nipple, darker than the areola, and long, so long, like a little penis, centered in the pebbled skin of her pretty areola. She looked at first uncertain, searching my eyes for approval, then smiled, relaxing her arms, both full breasts exposed for me, my mouth gaping open in wonder at her perfection.
"You're so beautiful, Katia," I whispered. "Can I touch you? Can I taste you? Will you let me fuck you?" I wasn't sure if I said those things, or just thought them, but she came to me and offered each breast in turn, letting me lick and suck each nipple, warm and rough under my tongue, between my lips.
"Ahh, that's good," she whispered, letting me suckle for a brief minute. Then she pulled away, wagging her right index finger in a taunting, 'no-no' gesture. But I want to show you more," she teased.
She looked down at the copper rivet button of her snug jeans, shy again, and fumbled unbuttoning it, then slipped the zipper down, slowly, and endless journey of brass teeth unclenching, freeing
her. She looked up at me, her brown eyes digging deep into my blue eyes, a need there that even I could see. It made all the difference between us.
I stood up, and strode over to her, taking her in my arms, her naked and warm, soft breasts like small pillows against my own, smaller, cloth-covered ones. I pressed my lips against hers, forcing
her into a kiss. She sighed, and moaned into my mouth, her desire building rapidly now. Our tongues danced together, spit flowing from my mouth to hers, then back again, both of us symbolically fucking each other's wet and willing mouth with our thrusting tongues.
I bent her back slightly, her breasts more prominent now, and roughly sucked, then bit, her nipples. She howled with pain and pleasure, her thighs and hips quivering as my domination brought her to climax. I thrust my hand down inside her jeans, her small pubic bush wiry against my palm, my middle finger easily entering her small, tight, but so, so wet pussy.
I thrust in and out of her with my finger, while my left hand held her steady by grasping and framing her sweet, cloth-covered ass, like a baker lifting a sack of sugar. She was now small and helpless in my grasp.
"Oh yeah, fuck me Linda," she moaned, and for a fleeting instant I wondered if she was really talking to the Linda in front of her. But I didn't care, I knew I could make us both cum all night
long and even forever if she'd let me. I roughly pulled her jeans off her full hips. Even with the smell of pot still in my nose, I could smell her fresh, excited pussy, and my own got even wetter. I wanted to hump her so fucking bad
Her jeans melted to the floor, and with no panties to bother with, it was a simple matter for her to kick them off. Naked now, her body was so fully feminine against mine. I lifted her, then swung around so her back was toward the bed. She squealed to feel her lover manhandle her, and giggled.
I pushed her backwards, and she sprawled on her back on the mattress. Gathering herself together, she smiled seductively and leaned on an elbow and spread her legs slightly, an unspoken invitation to take what I wanted. And I wanted it all.
I quickly unbuttoned my blue chambray cotton work shirt and threw it off to the side, my breasts excited, my smaller pink nipples as stiff as Katia's. I unbuttoned and shrugged off my jeans, kicking them to the side, clad only in a small white pair of bikini panties. I was starting to pull them down, when Katia gasped, "no, leave them on ... for now. They're so fucking sexy on you"
Then I lay down on top of Katia, the two of us in a hot, feminine embrace as we kissed, our naked bodies caressing. My left hand found, and squeezed Katia's ass globe, my right hand under her arm and around her back, stroking her smooth back. Her arms were around my neck, pulling me tight to her. Her breathing was excited and erratic, her heart beating rapidly against my breast.
Even I could figure out that this girl wanted to be fucked, and hard.
I rolled her onto her back, and shoved my knee between her thighs. She mewed as though resisting, but soon relaxed her legs and let me part them, exposing the soft pink of her pussy. Her lips were meaty and plump, a glistening streak of her excitement across her inner thigh. Her lips
parted slightly, a deep, pink interior just visible. The hood of her clitoris was long, but already retracting to allow her wet clit to gleam in the dim light of the bedroom.
I groaned, then scissored my legs with hers, to press my panty-covered pussy into hers. She bucked under me, gasping as electric shocks of pleasure coursed through her. She lifted her butt up, hitting her cunt against my crotch, then I hammered my hips into her, fucking into her hot, wet pussy, as she shrieked with pleasure.
"OH god, yeah, fuck me" she moaned. My hips pistoned into her warm and waiting center, again and again, as I fucked her into a wailing, quivering pudding of hot, sweaty girl sex. Our damp breasts mashed together, our mouths met sloppily as we lost coordination in the mindless pleasure of fucking and being fucked...
We both came several times, and I rolled off Katia, but still next to her. I longed for her touch after our mutual explosions. We lay like that for a little while, then Katia got up on her elbow, and kissed my damp nipples.
"That was good," she said. "Now it's my turn, bud." I smiled at her, but didn't know what she meant. Then she crawled between my legs, and parted my thighs. She pushed my legs up toward
my chest, and I got the message, and pulled them all the way up. Katia sighed, then went down on me, kissing the crotch of my panties, which was sopping wet with both our juices.
She began pressing her mouth hard into my pussy, pressing her lips against mine, kissing my
pussy lewdly, the thin fabric between her mouth and my cunt only making the pleasure even greater for me. Her hot, wet tongue pressed inside my slit, held back by the cotton panty. Finally, I couldn't stand the teasing, and reached down and pulled the fabric aside, ripping the seam. I REALLY didn't give a shit at that point.
"Lick my FUCKING cunt, BITCH" I screamed, and with my hand, pushed her face into my hole. She didn't hesitate at all, and started lapping at my shaved crotch, her tongue rolling up and down my labia, then thrusting inside my pink. My hips were pushing up into her face. I was amazed she could even breathe, but I was beyond caring about anything but my impending monstrous orgasm.
"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me" I chanted. "Eat my dyke cunt, you fucking lezzy slut" She was chowing down like mad on my carpet, and not a bit reluctant. When she bit my clit using her lips, my body spasmed in orgasm. When I came, my hips shaking and thighs trembling, my hips thrust up against her face. I thought I might have almost broke her neck. She rode me like a cowboy putting in his eight seconds on the bull, then slowed licking my pussy, figuring I'd be sensitive, and lay with her head resting on my thigh.
I pulled her up so her face was next to mine. To my surprise, her face was all wet.
"What the fuck is that?" I asked her.
"You silly bitch, you squirted when you came. Don't you know you do that?" She didn't look or sound angry. Actually, she looked pleased.
"Hell no, I've never done that before. Of course, I've never cum like that, either." She really looked pleased when she heard that.
"Okay, now I need something," I said.
"Umm, what?" Katia said lazily, kissing my cheek.
"I really want to lick you. Your little pink hole is so sweet, so beautiful, and it SO needs to be licked by my hungry, hungry tongue. I got to fuck you, and that was sweet, but I've got a taste for your hot, creamy little pink."
"You want to eat my pussy, honey?" she said. "You want to stick your tongue inside my tight, hot, creamy little girl hole? You want to make me cum all over your face? Okay, baby, I can do that for you." She rolled over to lie next to me, facing the ceiling. I got up and reversed position, and straddling her, began licking her vulva. She immediately began pulling on my hips, so I brought my hips down until I could feel her mouth on my pussy again.
I licked around the sheath over her clit, which was still sensitive. Avoiding the sensitive little pink knob of her clit, I slid my tongue along the sheath, then lifting up when her clit became engorged.
"Ohh, that's it, baby. Lick mommy's hot slit," she moaned. I guess because she was an artist, she wasn't too shy about verbalizing her desires. "Mommy wants to get fucked tonight, fuck mommy with your long, lezzy tongue, okay, baby?"
I licked along her fat labia, hot, wet and creamy from her previous orgasm, My tongue lapped her feminine cream, sweet and musky, hot and fragrant female juice.
"Unnh, I need to feel you inside me," she whined, anxious to have a long, female tongue wriggling inside her tight, hot hole. I thrust my arms between her slim legs, then under her thighs, pulling them up, way up, towards her face, delightfully exposing her cunt and asshole for me.
"Oooh," she moaned, as she felt her holes opening further. "Do me, honey, make me your woman" She was becoming excited again as I gazed on her beautiful ass and pussy, then I dove in, my chin dipping into her pussy like a cock, as my tongue licked at the sensitive skin between her anus and pussy.
"Oh, god" she blurted out. "That's so good, lick me there, that's so fucking dirty, bitch" If she thought that was dirty, she'd absolutely LOVE the rest, I thought to myself I licked further down between her legs, approaching her asshole, and lapping around the tight circle, then thrusting my tongue inside her dark hole, clean and hot, tighter than her cute little pussy, and entirely different in taste.
"Ohh, god, yes, YES, FUCK MY HOLES FUCK THEM BOTH, MY ASSHOLE, MY TWAT, FUCK, FUCK" she screamed. I poked my chin into her wet pussy again and again, making sure to open my mouth further so my chin pressed into her clit, and rubbed up and down over it as I fucked her with my face. Simultaneously, I licked the small piece of skin between her holes, and thrust my index finger into her ass as far as I could. It was so fucking hot and tight in her cute little tush
Katia shrieked with pleasure, her body trembling as spasms of ecstasy coursed through every fiber of her being. Then I backed off as I felt her tension slowly subside, lazily licking and kissing her between her legs, but avoiding her most sensitive areas. I didn't do it because I'm any great lover, I did it because I love the taste and smell of another woman's pussy ... and her ass, if she's clean and takes care of herself. Katia certainly did
I felt her nibbling at my labia, and spread my thighs further apart, to let her pleasure me. She licked along my lips, as her finger wetted itself inside of me, then she brought it to my own tender anus, gently wriggling it into my hole, as I moaned into her thighs.
"Umm," I crooned.
"Like that, baby?" she whispered, as her finger drove deeper inside me.
"Yeah, nice, lick my clit hard, you little cunt, stick your finger inside my nasty ass, make me squirt my cum inside your mouth, make you swallow my cum" She went after my clit and pussy real nice then, and pretty soon I was humping against her face, not caring if I hurt her or not, just lost in the pleasure of my own growing orgasm.
"Goddamn, bitch, I'm gonna fucking cum, I'm cumming, filling your pretty hot mouth with my cream, drink it all, you little cunt" My whole body felt like I was part of an electrical circuit, energized and every piece of me feeling indescribably thrilled from the touch of her sweet mouth on me. I think it was the best orgasm I ever had.
Later, when we were lying together there on her bed, her head resting on my breast, her arm at my hip, her fingers just kind of lazily caressing my side, she said, "Y'know, Linda (meaning Miss Ronstadt) once said that they haven't invented a word for the loneliness that everybody goes through on the road. The world is tearing by you, real fast, and all these people are just looking at you." Katia looked up at me, and it was only later, too much later, that I realized she was asking me a very, very important question.
Well, I just kind of laughed there, being full of myself, the big dyke stud who'd just fucked a near-star, and I missed the question, and more importantly, missed giving her the answer that her heart so very much wanted to hear. Instead, I just said, "Yeah, you'll never catch me doing a job that puts me on the road like that. I'd sooner die."
I could see the hope die in Katia's eyes then. But I didn't know what that meant for each of us.
I didn't realize that she wanted a way out of her lonely road life, and that I could have given it to her. I didn't realize that I would die then, too, along with her hope, not even knowing it, and end up in the very hell I scoffed about myself. So here I am, driving my truck back and forth across the country, catching a little love, here and there, but not really living."
I looked over at Virginia then. She had tears in her eyes, and wet streaks running down her cheeks. "Oh my god, that's a really sad story," she said. "Do you know what ever happened to Katia? Did she ever give you a second chance?"
"Maybe I would have gotten one," I said. "Maybe she'd have taken me back, given me another chance to do the right thing. But a week later, an old girlfriend of Katia's called her. She told Katia she had something important to discuss with her, and when she picked Katia up in her car, a real nice, new Porsche it was, about two miles down the road, she just floored the thing to about 90, and ran the damn thing into a bridge abutment. Killed them both instantly."
"I guess that girlfriend found a solution for her own loneliness, and wanted to share it with Katia. I hate to think it, but I know if we'd been together then, I wouldn't have let her get in the car with that girl."
The asphalt rolled on under our wheels.