Chapter 1

The heat from the paved road rose in shimmering waves causing psychedelic images to dance in front of unbelieving skeptics. The tall, lean figure strode purposely westward out of the evil clutches of the depths of Death Valley. The smile on his handsome face belied the grim promise of destruction in his unsmiling eyes.

A big eighteen wheeler came up from behind him barely silent in its approach. He sensed it more than heard it and stepped off to the side and held up his thumb in the universal sign language for hitchhiking a ride. The truck never stopped. In fact, it never even slowed down as if the driver was lost in a world of his own that definitely did not include a dusty figure at the side of the road.

"Fuck you too, buddy!"

The fact that those words were spoken with a studied smile made them even more pregnant to the casual observer. Each syllable dripped with venom of an unknown poison.

Charlie "X" was a traveler. He had crisscrossed the country several times never on the same road twice. He never wore underwear because he liked the sensation of his stuff swinging freely and ready for action in the blink of an eye. Sometimes he bestowed his juices on reluctant drivers taking pity on him walking alone in the wilderness. Other times, he brought light into the dreary life of a married waitress or a bar-hall girl looking for romance. He liked to take his women from behind not wanting to look into their eyes when he shot his load inside their sinning flesh. His "road" women generally received a helping of spirited spanking on their backsides that more often than not drove them into an erotic frenzy and satisfying orgasms.

The last time he had fucked a girl face-to-face was in Oklahoma City in the back of a Howard Johnson restaurant with her legs wrapped around him like a symbiotic weed. The girl was mostly Indian and she had the beadiest black eyes he had ever seen. It was like looking into the soul of a demon from hell. She worked the room service gig and delivered more than ice cream on a busy Saturday night. Most Indian girls he had fucked over the years had big, loose pussies, but this one was young and tight. He gave her his seed willingly but wanted to get away from those penetrating eyes that looked right inside his mind.

He really wanted to spank her bad, but she was having none of that. She told him her name was "Spread-Eagle" and that she would like to fuck him with her strap-on if he ever passed through again. Charlie was not entirely opposed to the idea having been broken into anal sex by a French woman in her later years with a predilection to such perverted pleasures. He got Spread-Eagle's phone number and promised her a visit the next time through. That number had been sitting in his wallet for the past two years.

Discounting the shimmering heat waves, Charlie could make out some buildings not too far ahead. Some lead-in signs promised him "Gas" "Ice" and even the possibility of "Hot dogs" and "French fries". The dirty, dusty place didn't look like much but there were a few cars in the front and the sound of music in an unseen jukebox.

He only had a couple of bucks left from the job he had taken to move some wreckage of an accident from the highway. It was sort of a gory scene, but that didn't bother Charlie at all having been in lots of tight places where life held no value.

The waitress was a washed-out blonde with an inflated chest out of proportion to the narrow waist and slender hips. The name-tag above her left nipple gave her name as "Daisy" almost making Charlie break out in a giggle at the absurdity of her given name.

"What's your pleasure, Mister?"

Charlie felt like screaming out,

"I want to twist your nipples until you fill my glass, bitch!"

Instead, he smiled his charming smile and said,

"Just a glass of water ... Daisy"

He looked up at her dangling name tag close to his face and wondered if she would scream at taking his cock up her ass.

She pushed her hair back with one hand and gave him the ice water and filled a coffee cup for him.

"Coffee is always on the house here at Scotty's House of Pancakes."

He looked at the menu and saw the pancakes were only $1.25 so he ordered a stack even though it was midafternoon.

Charlie ate the pancakes slowly and did not refuse when Daisy filled the plate a second time. It had been two days since he had eaten and the food brought his insides right up to the "full" mark. The entire time he had tried his best to be inconspicuous because a pair of highway patrolmen was slogging down apple pie and coffee at the counter. They left when their radios came to life with some confusing messages filled with coded numbers.

It was starting to push 5PM and it was time for Charlie to start scouting around for a safe place to get some shut eye. Daisy stopped at his table and asked him,

"Where you heading for, Mister? I noticed you ain't got a ride and the next town is like a whole day of walking. But if you catch a ride with one of the customers in the morning you can probably make it all the way into Bakersfield."

Charlie reached his arm out and held Daisy's waist lightly.

"Couldn't agree with you more, sis, but I don't have any money for a motel room. You can color me broke after those delicious pancakes."

The pretty waitress smiled down at him and licked her lips like a female black widow spider seizing up a possible mate.

"My girlfriend Natalia and me got us a doublewide right behind the repair shop across the highway. I know she won't mind a little company for one night. We get a little bored here at the end of nowhere."

Charlie nodded his head in agreement and allowed his devious hand to slide down slowly to cup Daisy's soft and nicely padded ass cheek. She didn't pull away or suggest he remove it so Charlie knew immediately which way the road was headed.

She got off at 7PM and they both walked across the highway laughing and carrying some leftovers that were a perk of her employment.