Chapter 8

Once she placed herself and the circumstances that preceded it, the killing of the sadist in his van, she sniffed the air for water. Somewhere to cleanse herself and remove the hurt. Unfortunately all she smelled was fetid. Some pond that probably had runoff from the farm, filled with chemicals most likely. So she walked back to the truck stop, figuring the lone van at the edge of the parking lot wouldn’t have been noticed yet. She came onto the parking lot from the back and headed to the toilets and showers. The best thing about such large truck stops.

The showers took cash in a slot to open and use. Fortunately she still had quite a lot of cash from what Marjorie had given her. Truth be told, she didn’t need her to whore herself. But she was a libidinous creature.

The shower refreshed her, but did nothing for her pain. Fresh mountain streams, it seemed, would only do that.

Afterwards she scoped out the comings and goings of the truck stop. An older woman grabbed her attention. She waited for her to be done eating before approaching. “Could I hitch a ride?” she pleaded.

“My, you’re a lovely woman,” the driver commented.

“Thanks. You’re heading east?”

“I am.”

“Could I... ?”

“Of course. Come along.”

In the cab, the driver introduced herself as Donna.

“Karen,” Karissa told her.

“So where are you headed?” Donna asked.

“Baltimore.”

“I can get you fairly close. My haul’s going to Philadelphia.”

“That would be great.”

“So what’s in Baltimore?”

“I’m looking for my brother,” Karissa told her. “We’re both orphans. I just found out where his adoptive parents live.”

“Then you were separated?”

“When we were infants.”

“How terrible.”

“We’re twins.”

“Even worse.”

“Since we were infants, I never got to know him.”

“I think even babies experience trauma. I think they’re affected by being taken from their birth mother, even if, of course, it won’t be remembered. And losing the person you shared a womb with?”

“There’s always been ... an absence I guess.”

“Thus you’re pursuit of him at such a young age. How old are you. Eighteen?”

“Yes,” Karissa lied.

“And you just found out where your brother is?”

“Where he was raised. Unfortunately it seems as if he ran away.”

“Like you? Sorry.”

“No. I guess it’s pretty obvious. But ... my adoptive family weren’t all that nice.”

“You prefer if they don’t know where you are.”

“Please.”

“Okay. Have you eaten?”

“At the truck stop.”

“If you’re hungry, there’s sandwiches in the mini-fridge just behind you.”

“I guess I could eat.”

“Climb over then. And if you want to rest, there’s a comfortable bed.”

“And not keep you company?”

Donna chuckled. “It’s nice to have.”

Karissa found an egg salad sandwich and a small bottle of Coke.

“So how long have you been a trucker?” she asked before her first bite.

“Five years. It’s my second career.”

“You’re first?”

“Homemaker. Unfortunately my husband decided to trade me in for a newer model. Prettier. Nicer. My kids preferred her too. I suppose I can be a bit irascible.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. You seem quite intelligent.”

“For a truck driver?” Donna laughed.

“Sorry.”

“No. My husband and I met in graduate school. I was an English major. Comparative literature. A MRS degree as it turns out.”

“What did you plan to do?”

“Before I got pregnant? Either teaching or editing. I ended up moving in with my husband’s folks to raise the kids. Another followed the first. Once my husband got his PhD and his residency, he started making enough money for us to get our own place.”

“What was he?”

“Psychologist. He met another MRS candidate and fell in love I guess. At least they married before she got pregnant.”

“So you chose trucking.”

“I always liked to drive. We got a camper, and my husband let me drive it. Actually he never was much of a driver. But it was either drowning my sorrows or getting the heck out of Dodge. Both my parents and both my brothers are alcoholics, so I chose not to be.”

“You don’t drink?”

“Not since college. Not since I got pregnant. It was getting wasted that got me pregnant. Not that I didn’t like the guy. And not that I had a lot of choices. I’ve always been a Plain Jane, even if my body wasn’t all that bad. Even that’s finally giving out since I’m sitting all the time. I could say the hardest part about getting divorced was losing a sex partner, but we hadn’t had sex for years.”

“And since if you don’t mind me asking?”

“An occasional desperate trucker.”

“Any women?”

Donna laughed. “I know. My job and my looks makes me look like a dyke. I’ve been hit on probably more by women than men. And I eventually gave it a try.”

“And?”

“It was nice enough. They do know their way around pussies. I was less interested in returning the favor, but gave it a try. It didn’t bother me like I thought it might, but it wasn’t my favorite thing. But mostly I missed the missing part,” she chuckled.

“So a girl with a tongue and a strap-on might just be ideal.”

“Are you offering?”

“I am.”

“Are you a lesbian?”

“I swing both ways. It’s the least I could do you giving me such a long ride.”

“I could say it was the companionship and, to tell you the truth, just looking at you. It’s not like women turn me on, except, for the first time, you do. But I wouldn’t say no. I like sex, and never can get nearly enough of it.”

“I like sex too.”

“But have no problem getting enough.”

“More like I can get plenty. But I guess I’m a bit of nymphomaniac.” Karissa chuckled at the sort of pun.

Donna turned in at the next rest stop. And joined Karissa at the back of the cab, pulling a curtain across to hide their actions.

Karissa stripped for her, and let Donna explore her body. But after tasting, and declaring she loved the taste, it all became about Donna’s pleasure. Karissa did the exploring. And Donna did have a nice body. Full tits and ass, with some fatness beginning in between, but still in great shape. After sending her over with her tongue, Karissa pulled the dildo, harness and KY from her bag.

“Oh wow,” said Donna. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Never about sex,” Karissa smirked and sank the fake cock into her.

“Slow,” said Donna. “At the start. But I like it hard eventually.”

Which is what Karissa did. Gently until Donna built towards a second orgasm. Hard to get her there. And hard after for two more. A relentless fuck.

“That was ... incredible,” Donna managed to say. “Would you like me to...”

“Maybe later. Rest. I’m going to explore for a while.”

“But you’ll come back?”

“Promise.”

The land was no longer flat. Foothills of the Appalachians. A stream behind the rest stop. But it would be less public and fresher farther up. So Karissa ran along its edges to some rapids and a pool at the end of them, stripped and bathed. Communed with the water. Felt whole again. Pain gone. Exhilarated.

And she heard a whisper, barely. Not connected to the water. Not even all that close to it. But there. And of water. Somewhere south. Somewhere in those mountains. “I’m here,” it said. “Where are you?”

“Coming,” she trilled into the water. “I’m coming. Keep calling.”

“Always,” she heard.

Outside the water, she didn’t hear anything. Just felt it. A place she needed to be.

When she returned to the truck, she stripped and straddled Donna’s face. “Please make me cum,” she said, and gently tongued Donna’s pussy until Donna succeeded. Then gave Donna one more cum as a reward.

Afterwards, she cuddled along Donna’s side, her face using Donna’s substantial breast as a pillow.

“I still don’t prefer women,” Donna told her. “Except you, Karen. You just gave me the best sex of my life.”

“I enjoyed it too,” Karissa returned, giving her a kiss. “Would you mind hearing my advice?”

“Of course not.”

“You have a sexy body. Spectacular. You should show it off.”

“You mean dress like a slut?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Let the men and the women know what you have to offer.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.”

“We should get going.”

“Okay.”

One more kiss and they dressed.

While driving into the mountains, they passed a sign for the Appalachian Trail. Karissa knew the trail would lead to her brother. “Could you stop whenever you can?” Karissa asked.

“Why?”

“The Appalachian Trail. I’ve always wanted to walk it, and here it is.”

“Your brother?”

“Hopefully I’ll find him. But as long as I’m here...”

“Anything you want, Karen.”

“Thanks.”

Donna drove her to a building that rested beside the Trail. Karissa gave her one more kiss, reached into her bag and handed her the dildo and strap. “Just in case,” she smiled.

“You sure?”

“I feel like you could use it more.”

Donna laughed.

“I wish we had more time,” Karissa told her.

“I’m running late already,” said Donna. “I’ll be dropping off my load and picking up another and would be leaving as soon as possible.”

“So we wouldn’t have any more time really.”

“Probably not.”

Karissa nodded, gave the older woman one more kiss, and exited the truck. After a last wave at the passenger side mirror where Donna could see her, she secured the backpack tight and began to run.

Running on the Appalachian Trail was definitely a curiosity. People hiked. They didn’t run. Karissa ran past gazes, individuals, couples and groups, but her running and the remarkable speed of it made the gazes short lived.

She ran for miles. Breathing deep because of it but never feeling the exhaustion that people would always feel, even the best of them. She ran until twilight ended and it became dark. Only then did she move off the trail, to a stream, got naked and bathed. Became rejuvenated. Afterwards she realized how hungry she was.

Being early spring, the air remained cool at night. Deciduous trees had regrown their leaves, but flowers or fruit, whatever they would produce, were just buds. Early spring also meant spring break. The smell of smoke barely nudged at her nose. A campfire she presumed. She followed it, following the edge of the stream, which got bigger with some tributary creeks feeding into it just as the smell of smoke became more pronounced. A sudden drop off created a waterfall, broad but not all that high, and beside the pool, a clearing. A campsite.

Four naked people emerged from the pool. Two couples. They looked to be no more than two or three years older than her. Laughing, they rushed to their clothing and some towels, dried and dressed. Three others were tending the fire. Another couple and a boy who looked younger than the rest. Though helping with the fire, he seemed separate. Disconnected. Karissa walked down the ledge a few feet into the trees, and emerged in the clearing.

“Hello,” she said. “You wouldn’t happen to have some extra food.”

Her clothes, especially her well worn coat, made her look like a drifter. Too young to be a bag lady, a runaway would have been more likely. Even so, and despite the darkness, her beauty could still be seen.

“Come join us,” one of the skinny dippers, now dressed, decided for the rest of them. A tall, handsome blond, his companion, also blonde and attractive, looked less sure about her.

“Just hot dogs and beans,” he added. “Camp food.”

“Sounds good,” Karissa smiled. She moved over to the younger camper and sat beside him on a log that served as a bench. Four logs surrounded the fire, which looked to be well made, crackling and flaming up. Except for the glasses and the lack of confidence, she could tell he was related to the gregarious blond.

She introduced herself to him while, with the warmth of the fire, removing her coat, which revealed the fullness of her breasts beneath the flannel shirt, just as her jeans had come to feel tighter around her bum. “I’m Karen.”

“Uhm ... Rory,” the boy, probably the same age as Karissa, and looking his age more than she did hers anymore, glanced at her shyly, and seemed to blush from the glance.

“You seem to be odd man out,” Karissa commented.

“My little brother is odd alright,” said the blond young man. “Some hooch?” He handed Karissa an unlabeled jug. “I’m Ollie. Oliver.”

“Karen. Thanks.” Karissa swigged. “Oh my.”

“Took it better than most girls,” Ollie laughed, sitting next to Karissa.

“Moonshine?” Karissa asked while handing the jug to Rory. He swallowed and coughed.

“Getting brave for the girl?” Ollie chuckled, taking the jug. “Our family came from this area. Hillbillies. My mom decided to get the heck out and find herself a rich husband, which she did. But we got cousins here, one of them distills this shit. I stopped by for some.”

“Are you all in college?” Karissa asked.

Ollie nodded. “Towson State. It’s in Maryland. Except for my brother. Mom insisted I bring him.”

“Is Maryland far?”

“That way a couple hundred miles or so,” Ollie pointed east.

“Baltimore’s that way?”

“A little south. Is that where you’re headed?”

“I was. I’m not sure anymore. Right now I’m just hiking the Appalachian Trail.”

“And didn’t bring food?”

“It was spur of the moment. I was hitchhiking and saw the sign.”

“Ollie?” his girlfriend whined.

“The ball and chain calls,” Ollie pouted and walked over to the other side of the fire.

“Ball and chain?” Karissa asked.

“High school sweethearts,” Rory explained. “Her family’s rich and Ollie’s supposed to marry her.”

“But Ollie isn’t so sure.”

“He flirts with the pretty ones. Sometimes they say yes.”

“Does she know?”

Rory shrugged.

The other campers started coming over to them. Rory had a stack of sticks. “You did good,” said one of the girls, a brunette with a nice smile. When Ollie picked up his and his girlfriend’s, he winked at Karissa.

“You want me to go find you a stick?” Rory asked when one remained.

“Can we share?”