Chapter 2: Tuesday

Anthony groaned as he slowly came awake. Where the hell am I? he wondered, momentarily confused by his surroundings. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he looked around the tiny room, as the events of the last day slowly came back to him.

The contest, he thought, followed quickly by where are all the girls? Anthony slipped out of bed, searching on the floor for his sweat pants. He put them on, tugging the drawstring tight before exiting his bedroom and walking into the living area, half expecting to find a pile of sweaty college girls.

Instead he found a note.

Sorry Mr. Martin. We had to leave last night, hope you had a good time, we sure did. Don't tell our parents, okay? Ha ha. We tried to clean up the room, but you were hogging the bed and we didn't want to wake you up, so you might want to air out the camper, because it smells like someone had sex with six cheerleaders in here! Ha ha. Don't worry about the toys, we washed them and they're drying in the sink, and the videotapes are all beside the camera. Enjoy the movie!

The note was signed by Cindy and as he lifted it to his nose, Anthony realized it smelled like pussy juice.

Have to save this, he grinned to himself, slipping the note in a drawer. Moving to the sink, Anthony realized that the girls must have found more playthings in the Winnebago than he had realized were there, because drying in the sink were two extremely long double-ended dildos and two thin anal vibrators.

I think I will watch that video, he thought to himself, and quickly connected the camera to the television. The first part of the tape was as he remembered, chronicling his exploits with Mindy and Mandy, the twins. Anthony's cock gave a lurch as the scene shifted to the living area, and he realized this must have been what Cindy was referring to when she had mentioned that there was "lots more to film."

Anthony absentmindedly stroked his prick as he watched the action unfold on the screen. At first it was much as he remembered when he and the twins had left. April, May and June all in a tangle on the floor, kissing and licking each other, their smooth pussies shiny wet with their juices. As he watched the three friends eat each other through multiple orgasms, he quickly grabbed his scorecard and began writing down his point totals from the evening before.

Six girls showing their breasts and pussies was ninety points, watching two girls having sex was forty points. I wonder if it's worth more since it was six girls? Anthony wondered idly. Getting to touch a girl's tits and pussy and doing so while nude added sixty points, times two girls was one-twenty. Another one-twenty for two girls stroking and sucking his dick, and Anthony found to his amazement he was up to almost four hundred points.

As he watched the three girls writhing around on the floor, Anthony wondered if this counted, since it was on video. Can't hurt anything to try to get credit for it, he rationalized, and quickly watched to the end of the tape, which ended with all six girls in a tangled pile of breasts and asses and tongues and fingers on the floor of his Winnebago.

Shit, I don't know what this is worth, he thought, throwing up his hands in defeat. Six girls all having sex together, all showing their tits and pussies, and for an added bonus he found that all six girls had wished him a happy vacation at the end of the tape so that doubled his score. Fuck it, he thought. I'll just call it an even fourteen hundred points and we'll see if anybody yells at me.

Anthony quickly booted up the laptop and sent off an email, detailing his conquests from the night before and his afternoon of anal sex with Stacy. Not a bad first day, he thought. Wondering what time it was, Anthony was amazed to see it was already half past ten in the morning.

Not wanting to fall behind in his driving schedule, Anthony quickly showered, regretting for a moment that he hadn't had a chance to test the shower with another person.

Throwing on a different pair of sweats and a comfortable t-shirt, Anthony climbed behind the wheel of the Winnebago Adventurer and pulled out of the hotel parking lot, heading for Chicago, the next stop on his tour.

It was already a little after two o'clock in the afternoon, when the troubles started. Anthony was chugging along Interstate 70, fifteen miles from Indianapolis, when he was surprised to notice the gas gauge was close to empty. I should have more than a hundred miles left in the tank, he thought, but decided to go the prudent route and avoid running out of gas in the middle of nowhere.

Wanting to avoid the larger truck stops, I sure wouldn't want to fuck anything that's been riding in a big rig for the past three days, he thought, Anthony pulled off the highway and headed down a less traveled county highway, looking for a smaller gas station.

As he pulled into a local "Tank and Tummy," something that appeared to be part gas station and part restaurant, Anthony felt the big trailer start to shudder beneath him as the gas guzzling engine coughed on the last drops of fuel. Coasting to a stop, Anthony got out of his vehicle and began filling the tank. He was amazed as the numbers on the pump kept spinning and spinning, thankful once more for the piece of plastic in his pocket. As the dial spun past the one hundred dollar mark Anthony laughed once more at his good fortune. No way I could afford to own something like this, he thought.

At last the pump clicked to a stop and Anthony went inside to pay for his purchase, grabbing a couple frankfurters and a bag of chips to tide him over until he reached the Windy City. He grimaced as he bit into the rubbery hot dog, promising himself a real Chicago-style hot dog when he reached his destination.

Cursing himself for sleeping in as late as he had, Anthony quickly trotted back to the RV and climbed in, preparing to head off down the road. If I make good time I should get into town around five. That should be plenty of time to hit a club and find a lady for the evening, he thought.

Just as Anthony began pulling the forty-foot vehicle back onto the road, he was startled out of his reverie by a shrill ringing sound. What the hell? he wondered, realizing the sound was coming from the glove compartment. What's in there?

Putting the parking break on, Anthony reached over and flipped open the glove compartment, remembering as the sound grew in volume that he had stashed the cell phone there.

"Hello?" he said, wondering who could possibly be calling him.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, sonny?"

"What? Who is this?"

"Who is this? Who do you think this is? I'm running this damn contest, and I say you turn around right now or you're out."

"Out? What do you mean I'm out? Why?"

"Who did you fuck in the gas station?"

"What?"

"You weren't in there more than thirty seconds. Who'd you fuck?"

"How did you... ? Nobody."

"Then get back there or you're out. Read your instructions. Every time you get out of the Winnebago you have to pick up a chick. Consider this your one and only warning."

"But..."

"But nothing."

"But the only person in the gas station was an old guy!"

"Tough shit. Should have thought ahead, I guess. Now get to it."

Before Anthony could say another word the line clicked dead in his hand. He stared at the phone, wondering how in the hell the old man had known where he was, followed quickly by where in the hell he was going to find a woman.

Sighing in resignation, Anthony turned the Winnebago around and headed back to the gas station. This place doesn't look that desolate, he thought hopefully. Surely I can find something quick and get out of here. I don't have to have sex with anyone, he realized happily. Just getting a girl to show me her tits is enough, as long as I get it on tape.

Three hours later, hot and dejected, Anthony found himself still parked in the same dusty parking lot at the same deserted gas station. To his horror he found out the station closed at five o'clock, and after assuring the station owner that he was fine, there's no need to call the police, I'm just resting a little while, Anthony began to wonder if he would still be stuck here the next day when the morning shift arrived.

Why the hell didn't I just go to a big truck stop. I'm sure I could have found some woman happy to show me her tits in exchange for a good meal. Fuck!

The hot dogs and chips had long since disappeared, and Anthony found himself growing hungry. He was disappointed to see that the camper had not been stocked with food, and climbed out in search of a vending machine. Fortunately the owner of the gas station had thought to have a full complement of snack foods available, and Anthony used most of a roll of quarters, but returned to the Winnebago loaded with enough junk food to keep him satisfied for a few hours.

Around seven o'clock Anthony noticed the light outside was beginning to grow dim, and he resigned himself to the fact that it appeared more and more likely he would be stuck here all night. This really makes up for yesterday, Anthony thought.

He had considered walking into town and trying his luck there, but based on the maps he was able to bring up on the internet, the closest town was more than eleven miles away, and that kind of hike was not something Anthony was looking forward to. Not in the dark, and especially not in these shoes, he muttered, wishing again he had purchased a pair of sneakers instead of the stiff Italian loafers he was now wearing.

As he finished off the last bite of his recently purchased vending machine cupcake and washed it down with the last swallow of soda, Anthony glanced up, amazed to see a pair of headlights in the distance. Throwing aside the empty aluminum can, he raced for the door, stopping short only as his hand reached for handle.

What are you doing? he asked himself. Suppose there is a woman in the car, what were you planning? Going to scream for her to show her tits and hope she doesn't mind being videotaped? Stupid.

Deciding to lay low and see what happened, Anthony flicked off the overhead lights just as the car pulled into the darkened gas station. A young man opened the driver's side door and looked out, paying particular attention to the large motor home. Anthony was close enough that he was able to hear through the open window what the boy said to his companion.

"You see that thing before?" he asked.

"Uh uh. Never," a voice from inside the car answered. Anthony thrilled as he realized the voice belonged to a female. Maybe there's a chance I can get out of here yet!

"Is anyone in it?" the female continued, and Anthony froze, scarce daring to breath, as the young man strode over and peered in the window.

Anthony was thankful he'd thought to lock the door behind him when he had returned from the vending machines, as the boy jiggled the handle once before turning back to the car.

"Nah, there's nobody here," he called out. Anthony held his breath, still fearing discovery, when suddenly the passenger's door opened, and out climbed a beautiful girl.

She looks so young, Anthony thought, remembering that the old man running the contest had specified that the contest had a lower age limit of sixteen, with no exceptions, and that anyone caught breaking this rule would be immediately expelled from the game and might possibly be reported to the police. Anthony had scoffed when he had first read this, wondering how the old man could possibly know, but after receiving the mysterious phone call he wasn't willing to risk the chance.

It's like he was watching me, Anthony thought with a shudder. Almost like he could hear inside the Winnebago.

All thoughts of hidden microphones were quickly banished from his mind as the boy and girl started kissing, no more than ten feet from where Anthony crouched beside an open window.

"Oh Bobby," he heard the girl moan as the boy grabbed at her blue jean-covered ass. The girl opened her mouth to the insistent tongue of her young lover, and Anthony felt his prick grow hard as he watched the girl press her tits against the young man's chest.

"You're such a good kisser, Christine," the boy mumbled as he began pushing the girl to the ground.

"You want me to kiss it?" she asked, reaching up to cup the boy's cock through his jeans. The sound of the zipper being undone echoed in the dry night air, and the girl giggled, looking around for anyone who might be watching their playtime.

"There's no one there," the boy mumbled, pushing his jeans down around his ankles and freeing his cock from the tight confines of his underwear. Christine cooed as she circled the shaft with her hand and brought her face closer to the bulbous head of his prick. "Shit," the boy hissed as the girl's tongue darted out to lick at the hot poker of flesh she held in her hand.

Goddamn, Anthony thought as the girl took long swipes at the boys prick. It's almost like she's licking an ice cream cone.

As the girl continued sucking the boy's cock, Anthony moved as quietly as he could, mindful of any rocking motion the Winnebago might make, working his way to where the video camera sat on the counter. Checking to see that the tape currently in the camera had enough film, Anthony returned to the window, pressing the camera as close to the screen as he dared, and began recording.

Shit, he cursed. To his dismay, Anthony had forgotten the always-on light affixed to the video camera, and the boy and girl now found themselves frozen in a pool of light.

"Run, Bobby!" the girl cried out, struggling to her feet. Anthony realized his last chance for any sex would be tearing out of the parking lot in a few seconds, and hastily threw open the door to the RV, pointing the camera directly at the young couple's car.

"Stop!" he shouted, sighing with relief as the young couple froze. Bobby was frantically trying to pull up his pants, his now wilted erection flopping between his legs as the boy struggled to cover himself. "I said stop," Anthony repeated.

"Who are you?" the girl asked.

"Doesn't matter, does it Christine?" Anthony replied, shining the camera directly at the frightened girl. The girl gasped as she heard her name.

"You know who we are?" she asked, panic spreading through her body. If anyone found out that she had come out here with Bobby, and what they were doing, she would never be allowed out of the house again, and neither would Bobby.

"I know enough," Anthony answered, swinging the camera to shine on the nervous Bobby. "I'm pretty sure your parents wouldn't be happy to know the two of you were out here. How about I give you a lift back into town?" Anthony asked, hoping their panic at being discovered would override any common sense the two kids might have.

"No!" Bobby shouted. "If you do that, we're dead meat."

"Yeah, Mom would kill us," Christine agreed.

"Is that what would happen?" Anthony asked.

"Yeah, either that our she'd lock us up in the basement and we'd be there forever, because Dad would never let us out after he learned what the two of us were up to," the boy moaned.

Anthony laughed at that, surely these kids didn't think their punishment would be as simple as being locked up together.

"You think you'd be stuck in the basement together? Christine, what would your mom do when she found out you got caught sucking on your boyfriend's cock?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Christine said, beginning to sob. "He's... he's my..."

"I'm her brother," Bobby said, staring at the ground, and Anthony had to fight back a gasp.

"Interesting," he finally said, walking closer to the frightened couple. "So what brings you two out here, besides the obvious?" he asked, pointing at Bobby's shriveled erection. Bobby blushed, fighting the urge to cover himself, still unsure of what exactly was happening. For some reason the boy didn't think this stranger was all that upset at having discovered the two siblings like he had.

"It's all our mom's fault," Bobby answered, beginning to get angry. "She won't let us date, and it's not like we're kids anymore," he spat.

"Oh, you're all grown up, are you?"

"We're old enough," the girl mumbled.

"How old?" Anthony asked quickly.

"What?"

"How old are the two of you?"

"We're... we're eighteen," the girl finally answered.

"Bullshit," Anthony laughed. "You're definitely not eighteen."

"Seventeen," Bobby answered defiantly, daring the older man to contradict him. Anthony saw Christine give a quick glance to her brother, looking away as she noticed Anthony staring at her.

"Christine?" he asked. The girl refused to answer at first, but finally gave in under his steady gaze.

"Bobby's almost seventeen and I turned sixteen last month," she said. "Happy now?" she asked.

"Absolutely," Anthony said with a grin. More than you'll probably ever know, he thought. I don't much care for young kids, but they're legal for the contest, and I have to get out of here.

"So what are you going to do with us?" Bobby asked sullenly.

"I'm not going to do anything," Anthony replied calmly, a plan forming in his mind. "Why don't the two of you come inside my camper?" he asked. "You can make out all you want, do... whatever you kids came out here to do in the first place."

"That's it?" Bobby asked, distrustful of such a simple solution.

"That's all," Anthony promised. "I just want to watch is all."

"Fucking pervert!" Christine screamed, shaking her fist at him. Anthony stifled a laugh, as he found himself becoming aroused at the sight of the teenager's pert breasts swaying underneath her tight-fitting shirt.

"That's the deal," Anthony replied. "Take it or leave it, but are you sure your parents want to hear about this from me?" he asked, pointing the camera directly in the girl's face.

"Fine," she sulked, glancing quickly at her brother, who nodded his agreement.

"But that stays off," the boy added, pointing at the camera.

"Nope, that's part of the deal," Anthony said.

"But, that's..." the boy blustered, beginning to flush with anger.