Terror in the Snowstorm
©Copyright 2017 wantsomefun
Chapter 2
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 2 - A college student, Seth, finds his snooty/bitchy exGF in a wreck in a major snowstorm. Despite her attitude, he persists with trying to help her. Two huge rednecks come along and quickly show that they have ill intentions for the hot girl, and quickly take over the situation. A series of events causes the girl to reevaluate her impression of Seth in this crazy whirlwind of a story.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Teenagers Coercion Rape Heterosexual Fiction Cream Pie Masturbation Oral Sex Violence
“God, you’re insufferable! You don’t know anything about me. And you’re way too poor and ignorant to ever be able to comprehend how I live,” Tara hissed.
“Stop being a bitch and face reality, Tara! You’re going to suffer hypothermia and frostbite, if not worse, if you don’t come with me right now. Hell, I’m dressed for the weather and I’m getting cold out here. You must get out of that car and get in my truck now so I can get us out of here. There’s already a foot of snow and the wind is picking up. If we don’t leave soon, it’s going to be hard for my truck to get through the drifts. Then were both fucked!”
“Oh fine,” she sighed, sullenly. She tried to open her door. It unlatched, but it wouldn’t open. “Why can’t I get out of the car,” she asked, suddenly looking panicked.
I wiped snow off the seam between the fender and the door.
“The fender’s crushed around the door, and it looks like you have enough frame damage on this side that we won’t be able to get the door open. You’ll have to get out the passenger’s side.”
I walked around the back of the car to help to pull her out, only to find that the other door was wedged against a tree that was at least a foot in diameter. I went back to Tara’s window.
“You’re not getting out that way, either. I have a crowbar in the truck. I’m going to get it and try to pry your door open. If that doesn’t work, I can break the windshield and you can crawl out that way.”
“Just be quick about it. I can’t stop shivering, and my feet are so cold they’re getting numb.”
At that moment, we heard a vehicle approaching from the other direction. It was an old Jeep wagon. When it got next to us, I could see that it had huge mud tires and a high suspension. The entire under-carriage was at least 18” off the ground. This rig would be able to get through almost anything, I thought. The driver and his passenger got out. They were both huge. The driver looked to be about thirty-five years old, roughly 6’3” and over 300 pounds. He had a beer belly, but still looked like he was mostly muscle.
The passenger looked a little younger, but he was taller and could have been close to 400 pounds. They both looked like pro wrestlers who had degenerated into grizzled mountain men. They were dressed for the outdoors in old, ratty hunting gear. I didn’t like the look of them, and Tara seemed actually repulsed.
“Man,” the driver said, approaching Tara’s car. “Somebody really fucked up their purty little furrin car. Oh, pardon my French, little lady,” he laughed, showing his brown, broken teeth. “And pardon my manners. I’m Zeke, and this here’s my kid brother, Merle. I call him Ox, ‘cuz he’s that strong and that dumb. Ain’t you, Ox?”