Straightaway brought his thick, surly lips to the woman's taut, plump cunt lips. It proved to be a perfect match. Lip to lip, he sucked and she heaved her hips up and down to get a little more of his hot, ramming tongue up her cunt.
"Could I give you a little inspiration, trucker?" she said winking down at him.
"I don't know how much more you could give me," the huge man said, replacing his tongue with his wiggling, long muscular fingers, "but you could give me some head."
"Fair enough," Lorna said, feeling his thrusting fingers press up higher into already wet and willing pussy.
"You're hung like a chandelier," she said as he kicked his pants down to the floor boards. Then she licked her eager lips and brought her moist mouth down to his fire hydrant sized prick.
"You suck like a pro," Straightaway said, relaxing into her lip grip. He wondered how that must have sounded to someone who undoubtedly was one. Lorna let her practiced smooth ribbon throat down onto Straightaway's massive dick shaft. She chugged along greedily, swallowing him up every centimeter as she pulled and pushed her cheeks in all along the way. Then she pulled off and circled his huge dick knob with her darting, gyrating tongue. Then back down for more.
She reached back and grabbed his balls easily with one hand. Then she brought the other to join that one and gave him her deep massage treatment. Most men couldn't resist this one. She brought her velvet glove touch to both balls, moving them around one direction, then the other. Then in opposition. Then together. All slow and easy.
CHAPTER ONE
Lorna Stucilli drew her trench coat tightly around her protruding breasts and drew in her breath. The walls of the little two by four prison cell were covered with graffiti of every conceivable color.
It had been put on there with lipstick and eyeliner and in some cases, probably blood. The place stank like the basement room of a sewer. Three walls of grease-encrusted cement and one wall of thick mean-looking bars. Lorna wished she could grab one of those bars right out of its socket and beat herself over the head with it.
How could she have been so stupid? How could she have walked right into the trap? The trap that foul-mouthed sheriff had laid for her. Him and his sex-crazed, bubble-headed wife.
"Chow time," the guard said calmly. He slid a tray of steaming food under the cell door and stared at Lorna through squinting eyes.
"Thanks," she said, staring back at him hard. It didn't pay to be too sweet to these deputy-types. She had tried that once and wound up with her head in a cell toilet stool while the vicious bastard plugged her in the ass hole. "But I think I'll skip dinner tonight."
"What's the matter, Lady, fraid a little honest-to-goodness grub will spoil your appetite for dick?"
Lorna fixed her gaze firmly right back in the man's face. Their eyes locked. She repulsed the urge to ask him for a cigarette and turned to face the garbled writing on the cell wall.
She took a seat on the hard bunk jutting out from that same wall and stared down at her feet. Her boots definitely could use a shine. They had gotten quite a scuffing during the arrest. It felt like every man jack in the Grunion County Police Patrol had stepped on them at one point during the evening.
Fucking no-dick deputy was still chewing his cud and staring at her like a sodden cow. She wanted to open her trench coat and piss on him. That would shut his busy-body face up good.
Damn expensive boots they were, too. like the clothes she had on. Slinky, suggestive and by no means cheap. But then, she hadn't come cheap in a long time. She had learned to dress the role and demand what she felt she was worth. It hadn't been easy, but she learned how to do it. She had been a hooker long enough to pick up some knowledge of how to run her business.
"Sheriff ought to be here soon," the smart-ass deputy was talking again. She wished to hell he'd choke on his chewing tobacco. "You'll get a trial all right. Everybody in the county gets good treatment. Excepting people we don't want around here. Excepting trash!"
Lorna just kept her eyes down. The old coot could melt into the floorboards screaming the whole way and she wouldn't look up. Whatever happened to the good old days of the wild west when deputies got shot for such impudence? And where was the good guy in the white hat who should be there right now to rescue her?
The evening had started out well enough, too. There didn't seem to be any slip-ups on the horizon.
She had come into town last night late. Not that she intended to stay, but her car broke down. Fall City, for its pint size did have a garage open late and when she called a mechanic who was on-duty volunteered to haul her lame wagon to the shop and find out the problem.
Fall City. How she had already come to hate that name. She'd never even heard it before tonight. L.A., now there was a name she had heard of. And L.A. was where she was headed. If only she had used her head, she'd be behind the wheel of her car now on her way there. No such luck.
"You got a busted water pump, Ma'am," the mechanic said after poking around under her hood. The car was resting on a slant on the shoulder of the access road. That's where it had broken down. Spitting distance from the main highway. So near and yet so far.
"I got my tow hook here, I'll just whip her into the shop and take a look. You coming?" he said, looking over at her and grinning a business-like grin.
"Sure," she said, stepping toward the cab of his truck, "I guess I can't wait here."
The big blonde mechanic hooked the car up to his truck and got into the cab. He reached out and shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Hank. Hank Gilroy. You're?"
"Lorna," she answered, reaching out and grasping the huge, muscular mitt. She pumped it firmly and felt it hard as she did so. She had learned to tell a lot by a man's handshake.
She had learned to tell a lot by the way he smiled. By what he wore. By how he wiped his mouth. Things like that were the signs she had learned to read to tell about a man's character. A good hooker, a skilled working girl like herself, had to rely on those signs to judge the person's character she was to be dealing with. After all, she couldn't look at his college record, his resume, or examine his capital gains.
And from the way this rooster shook her hand, he was an eager, sexy young guy with a longer than average dick and a shorter than average attention. She would have to act fast.
"You're cute," she said, eyeing him up and down. "You from around here."
The guy blushed and she reached over to stick the car lighter down into its socket. She reached into her shoulder bag and brought out a leather cigarette case. "Smoke?" she said holding the case out to him."
"Naw," the boy said, grinning again and trying to keep his eyes on the road. He seemed a little embarrassed by her attentions. All to the good, she figured.
"I know it seems premature to ask, being as how you haven't really had a chance to check, but how much do you figure this little gambit is going to cost?"
"Better figure on at least sixty, seventy bucks." He said, shaking his head. "I may even have to call in for parts. This foreign job you're driving is a rare bird around here. We don't keep all parts for all these weird make of cars in stock. Plus, there's the tow job."
Loma nodded and moved a little closer. She calculated a moment as she closed her eyes. She always did that when she was adding and subtracting money. It was one thing she did very well. like a human computer.
"You believe in the barter system?" she said, wiggling her hips even closer to his side of the car.
"In some cases, I do," the guy said. He brushed his blonde smooth hair that was falling into his eyes away from his head with his huge hand. He was cute all right. She hadn't even had to make that part up.
Shit, Lorna thought to herself. A philosopher. I better give him a moment to puzzle it out. Watch the scenery. Whatever there is to watch in the pitch dark in this one-horse ville.
Hank Gilroy gripped the steering wheel with his hand and wondered what to do with the other one. This was about the most exciting thing that had happened to him all day, maybe all decade. A gorgeous woman, his dream girl, in fact, was sitting right next to him, driving toward an empty garage, asking him if he would consider taking something in trade for work performed on her sports car. Interesting, interesting for sure.
Okay, Lorna thought, it's time to put the old whammy on him. She unbuttoned the trench coat and slid it off slowly over her shoulders. "Early autumn sure can heat up at night," she said, slipping the coat off her arms and turning to lay it over the back seat. She was absolutely sure he wouldn't miss what she was displaying to him by doing so. No man had yet. At least not as long as she remembered.
Fucking Christ, Hank thought when he saw her high-blown knockers straining against the material of her white see-through satin blouse. This woman didn't even have on underwear. At least not up top. And furthermore, she didn't need to. Her tits were about the most perfectly vanilla scoops of ice cream he could imagine. And there were those chocolate bon-bons on top. Those big, rubbery chocolate drops of with cherries inside. Fucking far out!
Hank felt his own crotch grow a little steamier and wondered if there was some truth to what the woman was saying. It really was getting hotter, "I got nothing against it, mind you," he said, trying not to sound as eager as he felt all of a sudden.
"Against what?" Lorna said, pulling the cigarette lighter out by its handle and bringing it to the tip of long, white reefer.
"The barter system," the young man bounced back, hoping to hell she hadn't been joking with him. He really wanted her to be serious. He was starting to feel quite serious himself. At least his hard on was getting serious.
"Oh, that," she said, inhaling deeply and holding the smoke in her lungs.
"I guess if people agree about it up front, and if the medium of exchange seems fair, I mean equal . ... " Hank accelerated harder and tried to remember what he had been saying.
Lorna just let the sweet reefer smoke drift out of her mouth as she twiddled the joint between her fingers. It might take this kid a few minutes, but he would come around.
"Here we are," Hank said, pulling his wagon into the garage. "It belongs to my uncle. He's sheriff of Grunion County. Owns a lot of property, businesses around here. One of the old guys who's made out pretty well all his life."
"Old guys?" Lorna repeated, "how old?"
"Nearly forty, far as I know." Hank said, turning the ignition off and opening the driver's door.
"How old does that make his nephew?" Lorna said casually. He looked old enough, but she always wanted to check. She couldn't afford to take money from a hunk of jail bait.
"Old enough," the guy said, reaching across and opening her door.
Now he's catching on, Lorna thought, smiling to herself. Maybe he's not as dumb as his big, jock frame would indicate.
"I'm gonna have to call for a part," he said, after a few minutes of poking his head around again, "Why don't you travel on down to Edith and Joe's and try some Grunion County home cooking? You got time." .
"Maybe, but I got no appetite," Lorna said, taking a bold stroke and walking up to him. Very close. "At least not for food."
Hank watched her as she made her approach. She came in and landed like a super jet. And her body was nearly as streamlined, too. No, it was as streamlined. Maybe more so.
"I hope you don't think me rude, Ma'am," he said, shifting his weight and trying to stare somewhere in her vicinity, but feeling too shy for a direct eyeball to eyeball confrontation, "but I can't help noticing you've got a fine form on you."
"Notice all you like," Lorna said, stepping in closer and arching her back a tiny bit harder. "I like it when nice-looking men notice. After all, what's it all about if they don't. I might as well go to a cloisters and get a job as a cleaning lady."
Shit, thought Hank, I wonder how far she intends to tease me. And Hank had been teased by some of the best. His girlfriend, Luanne, Christ she was about the top tease on the block. Probably in the county. She could rub her tits in his chest for three solid hours and shake her head 'no' at the same time.
"Would you care for a soda, at least?" he offered, rummaging in his uniform pocket for change.
He thought of the old brown leather car seat that served as a customer sofa in the office. It was set up behind the desk, so no one pulling into the place could see anything, even if they shined their headlights through the office glass front. Nobody could see nothing, except if they had a key. That only left Uncle Wes. He was probably chewing the shit with his boys at the jailhouse or having a late supper at Edith and Joe's. With any luck at all, the two of them would be completely alone.
"Guess I gotta speak my mind, Lorna, guess it's time I told you what I'm thinking. Hope you don't take offense. People in this county usually talk when they got something to say. I don't aim to break tradition."
"Don't break tradition, Hank," Lorna said, leaning against the hood of car and crossing one booted leg over the other. "Say what's on your mind. I always find honesty the best weapon."
"I'm happy to fix your car, though I think it's gonna take all night to get the job done. I'm happy to fix it and I don't intend charging you one dime. But I would like to spend some time with you while we're waiting for that part to be dropped off. I'd like to spend some time getting to know you, if you know what I mean."
Christ, Lorna thought, a man who speaks his mind, even if he never quite manages to say anything.
"Now you're talking, Townie," she said, crossing over to him and running her hand through his hair. She indicated her car and then pointed toward the office, "My place or yours?"
"Let's go into the office," Hank said, feeling the heat from her hand burrow into his crotch. He hoped his hard on wouldn't get too big to walk in there under his own recognizance.
"Nice place," Lorna said, absent-mindedly unzipping her skirt. She didn't mean it, but remarks like that sort of came with the territory.
She slipped her tight leather skirt down over her hips and licked her lips. Then she put her hands on her hips and cocked them a little to one side.
Hank let out a long, low breath. Those hips were hot, hard love handles. Firm, round curves of the most breathtakingly creamy flesh he had ever seen live. The purple bikini panties accentuated every nuance of her cover girl shape. All the way from her tiny waist, over those low-lying hills and down the long, curving highway of her legs.
"God," he said aloud, feeling his pecker harden to a log texture, "you're built like a calendar girl. Every goddamn month of the year."
"Let me see you," Lorna said, coming to his collar and fumbling with the tongue of the long metal zipper of his mechanic's uniform. "I got a real thing for men in uniform, you know."
The two of them helped Hank out of his uniform and he stood there with only a T-shirt and his jockey shorts. His T-shirt was behaving normally. His jockey shorts were tenting up like a circus just come to town.
"That's a beauty," Lorna said, grabbing a hold of his bulging crotch with her practiced hands. "Enough to make any man proud."
"Thanks," Hank said, feeling his face flush a little. "I ain't heard no complaints yet."
Shit, Lorna thought to herself, aren't there any virgins around any more?
She reached up and slowly, torturously unbuttoned her blouse and unburdened her tits of it. She stood there, with just her bikini panties on, providing Hank with a full frontal view of her two high pointed and full blooming tits.
He hoped his tongue wouldn't drop out of his mouth.
"Far out," was all he could mutter, wondering how long his prick could stay in those jockey shorts without ripping them in the crotch.
"Come into my parlor," Lorna said, grabbing his sheathed dick like a hand and pulling him over to the car seat sofa. "I think the spider said that one to the fly."
Hank came obediently, like a hot little pull toy. A pull toy with a very hard wick.
Lorna sat on the sofa and pulled her hips up high. She slipped the nylon briefs over her hips and slithered them down her thighs. They fell to the floor with a hiss and Hank could see her lustrous black bush. The perfect compliment to the jet black sheeny aura of her massive head of hair.
He felt himself swallow hard as Lorna reached up and took firm command of the waistband of his shorts. She stretched it out and brought it down slowly, ever so slowly over his mighty beefcake thighs.
She let the shorts down quickly once she had worked them over the huge bulkhead of his hard on. Then she brought one smooth fingertip up to the very round dome tip of his prick and pressed it gently against his cock slit.
"Mmmmmmm," she said arching her back and purring softly, "feels like the real thing."
Hank wondered how long he could stay standing. He was pretty sure he had already started to sway a little.
The woman worked her expert index finger around the rim of his cock head in winding, continuous circles. As though she were skating around a wet, hard rink. Occasionally, she slipped the finger up and moistened it with pre-cum from his pee hole. Then she let it go around for another spin. Seven, eight, ten, a dozen times.
I think I'm in love, Hank thought as he melted into the care of this lovely lady who was taking things in such firm command.
She reached down and gathered his huge handful of bulbous ball meat in her own small paw. She massaged them from gentle to hard and all the stops along the way. Around and around, then pulling and pushing on them adding a little pressure each time.
"Oh, fuck," Hank cried out, happy they were alone, but sorry about the echo of the place. "Christ that feels good."
"It's supposed to," Lorna whispered up, "you're supposed to like it. That's what I get off on."
"No shit?" the boy said, grinning. "Hell, most girls I know...."
"Never mind about them," she said.
Those were the last words Hank heard her utter before she sunk her mouth onto his penis. He felt the tingling, the first rush of lip juice surround his huge, throbbing prick. She was kissing and smacking his dick tip. Again and again she sucked and suctioned the huge round head with her eager, sucking lips.
If I don't die right here and now, I may when I get off, Hank thought.
Lorna gripped his shaft with her right hand, worked his balls in and out with her left and continued her lip work on the head of the big boy's cock. She had learned to like sucking, especially one this big on a kid this aroused. No jaded trick, this guy. He was getting his man thrills for real. And she knew she was the one to give them to him.
"That is pure, purely incredible," he said, stumbling for suitable adjectives.
He felt the woman take his dick a little deeper into mouth vise. Into "her hot, smothering wet little oral tunnel. God, she was good. She was excellent. He felt a wave of heat rise up from his toes and bounce off his skull. It steamed down his spine and settled in the nether regions of lap. His cock had begun to swell and throb with vast longings and smartings of desire. He was so hot he had to look down to be sure he'd taken his uniform off.
She took another inch of big dick into her lip cave and kept it there. She worked down onto his shaft like a burrowing lamprey. Every inch signified another length of pleasure. He was filled to the brim with it.
He glanced down to see his shaft, only an inch or two from the hilt showing, the rest of his long rod disappearing into her sucking, slurping mouth.
He felt her tongue roll up and around his shaft as she worked his cock pole up and down. He let himself give over to the thrusting impulse and brought his hands to the back of his hips to help him get into it.
"Feels like heaven," he said, forgetting whether or not he was making any sense, "am I dead, are you an angel?"
The woman sucked further up on his dick and continued to work her roving, lusty tongue into every pore of his big flailing cock wand. She slipped and curled her tongue every which way around the ram rod and never even came up for air.
Lorna corkscrewed her mouth around and around as she beat the base of his prick up and down, up and down. She knew the combination of those two actions would bring the kid to his knees. It always did. The cock tasted good and thick in her pulsating wringer lips. Her wet, wild savage gripping little mouth hole. The one tricks would pay almost any amount she asked for once they had experienced the pleasures of it. The pleasures of that rosy, round sucking mouth machine.
"God, do you think I could fuck you?" Hank blurted out, hoping he would actually be able to achieve penetration before he sprung his trap.
He wouldn't have minded what she said, he wouldn't have cared if she said yes, no, or a week from Tuesday, as long as she kept that sucking up.
He watched as she nodded her head slowly and continued her thick, vibrating lips along their journey around his thick prick shaft. He was getting the life pumped out of him. The juices of his whole being were about to be wrenched right out his pecker slit. And he loved it. He loved every sucking, licking, slurping, mouth fucking moment of it.
"No," he said, trying to fight back the impending wall of come that welled up inside his gut, searching only for that little crack in the dike to come bursting out of.
But it was useless. The gush came. Oh, how it came. It started high up in the hinterlands somewhere, but it came rushing down, down amassing itself into a giant headwater. A huge waterfall of come. Buckets, truckloads, stream beds full of wet, wild milky liquid. He shot his load. He shot it and gripped the woman's shoulders as he pumped himself off right down her gullet. He shot shooting prick.
His eyes shot out wide in amazement as he saw the woman take the whole hot, gooey load of cream right down her sucking mouth. He watched as she licked and swallowed and gulped eagerly at his man load. He saw her take his whole big thick jism trail back into her throat.
What a sight! What a wild, wet wonderful heavenly sight!
"You're not to be believed," the woman said to him as she slowly pulled off, leaving his glistening, still rock hard schlong waving and bobbing in the still dull air of the auto shop.
"I was just thinking the same thing about you," he said, trying to find his breathing apparatus in time to save his own life.
"You're still hard, you great big bad Buckaroo," Lorna gurgled as she licked the rest of Hank's warm, moist spunk off her lips. "Want to see some more action or are you down for the night?"
"They usually want another."
"Well, then," she said, turning around and spreading her legs as she leaned over and braced herself on the back of the car seat, "climb aboard."
Hank whistled aloud as he saw the lovely moist valley of Lorna's smooth, pink cunt open to his gaze.
As Lorna felt Hank's eyes take her all in, she pulled her cunt lips apart wide with her fingers and snapped them together. "I'm gonna grip you till you hurt," she said, turning around and looking at him over one shapely shoulder.
"God, I hope so," Hank said, looking down at his still rock hard prick and saying a little prayer that he could keep it that way long enough to make whoppee with this luscious lady.
He was hard, hot and ready!
Lorna wiggled her ass high up to afford him an even more breathtaking vista of her hot, throbbing pussy slit. She diddled her clit with one finger and spread her legs a little further apart.
Hank grasped his schlong and edged into position. He bent down a little and reached up to grab the wet, quivering pussy box. It felt so wholesome and wonderfully smooth and silky under his grasp. The woman's wet thick pussy lips were twitching rhythmically as he crammed his meat into the little pocket between her cunt flaps.
"Stick it in there," she said in a hot, eager voice, wiggling her ass a little to help him fit himself up in her, "I like a man who knows where he's going. And you've got one big guide pole to help you."
"Help us both," Hank said shoving his huge, firm round head into the slick furrow of her pussy.
"Wow, I'll say," Lorna shouted as he burrowed his writhing member in deeper and deeper. "Show me what you can do now, come on," she encouraged, "show me."
Hank let go his grip on his dick and slid the thing up to the hilt. It felt so hot and wild and slippery and clinging and tight in there. He didn't want to come out. Ever.
Lorna banged her hips back on his big prick and felt it close in on her cunt. It was thick enough to choke her even from down there. She loved big dick, she had to admit. And this was one such animal. One such big thick snake meat plugging her cunt tunnel. God, that felt nice. She rode it up and down like a pogo stick.
Hank was only vaguely aware of the noise behind him. He had begun to moan pretty loud by the time his prick hit ground zero and when he built up his momentum good like he was doing now, he could almost not hear anything owing to the moans and groans and curses and language of erotic arousal. He loved to shout out curses when he fucked.
"That's right, you tight little pussy gripper, horny little cock robber, grip my dick, yeah, grip it good. That's right. Suck, that feels like it belongs in there. Fuck that thing with your cunt, Baby, that's the way. Fuck my cock with your tight vise little cunt."
By this time the noises behind had quieted down. Hank's uncle had gotten out of his patrol car and was headed straight for the office. He stepped into the den of screwing and looked directly at what was happening on his old abandoned car seat.
"Fuck me," Lorna purred back at him like a tiger in heat, "fuck my pussy with that yard stick of yours, come on. Let me have it. That makes me feel so good when you do that. Do that, oh yeah, do that."
Hank's uncle flicked on the lights to the office and stood there a moment as the fucking stopped and the two lovers froze like a statue.
"Jesus Christ," Hank said, turning around and trying to pull his rock hard aching big log of a pecker out of the woman's gripping cunt.
"What's going on here, Hank?" the man said. He stood straight and tall in his sheriffs suit with the broad-brimmed Western hat on his head and his gun in a holster at his hips. "What are you two up to?"
"Uncle Wes!" was all the boy could manage, "I was just...."
He reached around and grabbed for his uniform and held it up to cover his rock hard but slowly drooping cock machine.
"Isn't it obvious what we were doing?" Lorna said, turning around and slouching down into the seat. When she felt her ass hit the cushion, she sat up straight and crossed her legs. She brought one arm to rest along the back of the discarded car seat. She stared the sheriff back straight in the eye. She stared at him and she didn't flinch a muscle. "We were doing what comes naturally."
"Well, well," the sheriff said shaking his head and looking down at the cement floor of the office, "I never."
Hank stared at his uncle and back at Lorna. He shivered and stepped awkwardly into his uniform.
"Oh, now," Lorna said, pouting a little, "I'm sure you have. You look like a natural man to me."
"Ssshhhh," Hank said softly over to her.
"You're some kind of brazen woman, I'll give you that," the sheriff said, putting one foot up on the seat of the chair behind the office desk.
"Maybe you'll also give me a cigarette," she smiled back and arched her back in his direction, "they're in my purse there."
The sheriff tossed Lorna her purse and took in the sights. The woman looked like she stepped out of the pages of a girlie magazine. A very high class girlie magazine. The thick black curls surrounded her creamy white face and accentuated the blush of her cheeks and high arch of her eyebrows. The shoulders were a sculptor's dream and those tits! Had he ever seen a more magnificent set of knockers in his life? He couldn't recall where. Her pussy was hidden behind those shapely long legs, but he guessed from what he could see that it couldn't be bad, considering the rest of her.
"Oh, uh, Lorna," Hank said, happy to find his voice still where he left it, "this is Uncle Wes. Sheriff Hanratty to the folks when he's wearing his uniform as he is now."
Lorna took plenty of unruffled time fetching a cigarette and lighting it up. She blew the smoke out and pursed her lips.
"I like him," she said forthrightly, "what is it about a man in uniform?"
"Her car broke down," Hank blurted out, wondering what he was doing talking that way, in that very high pitched voice he thought he'd gotten rid of years ago. "Her car broke down and I've called for the parts. They should be here before midnight."
"Midnight?" Sheriff Hanratty said looking at his watch, "that's an hour and a half off yet."
"I guess you see we've been making good use of our time so far," she said, winking at the sheriff and re-crossing her legs.
"Well, I can't let you wait here all that time. Lord knows what trouble you two could get into here alone. Why don't you come on along and I'll drop you off at my place. Mrs. is there alone tonight. She'll give you a bite to eat and a place to sleep if I tell her. We can't let you go on alone tonight back on that highway after one or two or whatever time it will be before you get that wagon of yours fixed. Hell, you gotta come stay with us. What kind of town would Fall City be if we didn't extend our hospitality once in a while?"
Lorna breathed a sigh of relief and let a lot of smoke out at the same time. She had Sheriff Hanratty right where she wanted him. He wanted her to come stay with him. That would make him forget all about the scene he had walked into earlier. She'd be safe there for the night. And from the looks of things, she'd be left pretty much to herself.
Lorna closed her eyes and lay back on the bunk. That had been the one fatally wrong judgment she had made all night. She assumed the sheriff was going to take her to his house and leave her alone. She'd have been able to sneak out early in the morning if he had. Come here, picked up her car. Maybe even blown him in the patrol car on her way to his place. But she had just miscalculated so badly. And him an officer of the law!
"You gotta cigarette on you, girlie?" the deputy said, from the safety of his big oak desk and the blaring of the TV set over his head.
Lorna felt in her pocket and came up with one. How do you like this, she thought, this ass-hole is asking one of the prisoners for a cigarette. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around. Isn't the prisoner supposed to ask the guard that?
"Here," she said, tossing one out between the bars.
The deputy gave her an evil look and walked over to bend down and pick it up anyway.
She walked around in her little cage a few minutes, staring blankly at the walls that still made no sense to her. And she thought back.
Back to the events of the evening. Before the sheriff had arrested her. Before he had her hauled off in handcuffs and thrown in the clink.
Nothing about the drive over or the way the sheriff talked to her would have indicated he had anything questionable up his sleeve. He talked just like most guys do to women like her. They talk suggestively. And so did he. He even helped her into her clothes. She figured it was because he wanted to get a close up look. He talked a lot about his wife, what a looker she was, how he understood how women like her felt, because his wife got a lot of catcalls around people that didn't know her husband was the sheriff.
"She's got it all, let me tell you," he said shifting the patrol car gear into third with his huge, beefy hand. The uncle was built a lot like the nephew. He was twenty years older, but a handsome, sturdy specimen of a man. "Little honey blonde. Nowhere near as tall as you. Cute as a button. Knows how to make a man happy, she does all right. Bet you two are gonna get along like flies and jam."
Lorna stared out into the gloom and tried to make out what the man was all about. He didn't seem to want a blow job from her right then. At least that would have been language she could understand. He kept babbling on about his wife and what a wonderful little woman she was. The houses flew by like cars of a speeding train. Must be nice to be the sheriff, nobody ever gave you a ticket.
A few minutes later, they pulled into a very ordinary looking driveway of a very ordinary looking white frame and brick house. It was exactly the kind of place that made Lorna glad all over again that she wasn't living like the people inside. Being a hooker and on the road certainly had its compensations.
Maria Hanratty was indeed a honey blonde, and a lot better looking that Lorna thought, considering Sheriff Hanratty's over-eager beaver praise of her. She thought the woman would look like a milking sow before slaughter, but here was a tiny, well-stacked matron. She had a gorgeous set of well-turned legs and ample pair of knockers, and a big warm smile. She was dressed a little suburban for Lorna's big city hooker tastes, but she was a human being at least.
"Hi, Sugar," the woman said in her best broadest small town Midwestern accent, "Wes told me on the phone you were coming over here. Golly was I excited. I'm usually in bed watching some dumb old late movie and doing my nails this time of night, but hell, I'm glad to see you."
And that was all in one breathe. The woman could certainly talk a lot. Lorna found that out immediately. Wes Hanratty doffed his hat to them both and sat right down to listen to the girl talk. He doffed his hat, but he kept it on the whole time. Even as he sat in his easy chair and put his feet up on the white plastic hassock.
"Wes never does tell me what time of the night or day he'll be dropping in. Sometimes he brings boys in off the patrol with him. They have coffee and drink beer or whatever. I don't drink coffee. Do you? I'm a soda nut, myself. Wes says its making me meaner every year. He wants me to drink beer, but I won't do it. Too many chemicals. God, I hate chemicals, don't you?"
Lorna gritted her teeth and hoped to hell the woman wasn't just getting wound up. No such luck. She was a lonely, attractive woman. Some ten, maybe fifteen years younger than her husband and she wanted somebody to talk to. Lorna seemed to fit the bill.
"Gosh, how do you ever travel alone? I'm scared to go to the supermarket at night, let alone buzz down that fast road out there. What's the speed limit there now, fifty five? I hate to be alone. I won't even go out in the daytime without my CB radio. You got one in your car?"
"No," Lorna said, shaking her head, "I've heard of them, but what are they?"
"CB. Citizens Band. Locals use that frequency to talk to each other over the radio. We got our own little speakers hooked up to it. We can talk to each other and find out what's going on in the neighborhood, even in the county if we want. We all got handles, that means names. Names for what we want to be called on the CB. like mine is Road Runner and Wes here, he's Wiley Coyote. Cute, huh?"
"Cute," Lorna said, grasping only the tip of the iceberg of what the whole thing was about.
Maria sashayed to the fridge.
"I'm glad to see you two getting along so well," Sheriff Hanratty said, "ain't she every bit as pretty as I bragged on her?"
Lorna let herself take in the sight of Maria Hanratty. She was cute, that was for sure. Not bright, exactly, but cute. Lorna saw the arc upwards her tits took even the ridiculous little flowered halter top she had on. Her ass cheeks gripped each other nicely under her pedal pushers and Lorna could see that there was no panty or girdle line. The woman had a good figure. By any standard, and hers was a very high one.
"I'd hoped you two would like each other," the sheriff said, leaning back and grinning a very sly smile.
"We like each other fine, Honey," Maria said, opening the refrigerator door in the kitchen and bringing out a casserole dish. "You hungry, Lorna?"
"I could eat," she said, unable to remember where or when it was she had last done so.
"I made a scrumptuous macaroni and cheese thing today. I'm not much of a cook, but.. "
"No, and you ain't much of a doer, either," the sheriff was barking like an angry pooch on the end of a leash.
"Aw, Wes," the woman said, "gimme a minute."
"How long you think I got, Bitch?" he really sounded surly now, "I gotta get back out on that road, you know. You think Grunion County can get along without its sheriff? I work to do, woman, now let's get on with it."
Maria put the casserole down on the kitchen cutting board and smiled lamely at Lorna.
"My husband's a nice dude," she said to the woman seated at her kitchen table, "he's got some strange tastes, though, if you catch my drift."
Lorna was about to, but Maria beat her to it.
"He-likes to see me, you know, get it on with another woman. Especially a really pretty one. like you." She came over to Loma's seat and stretched one heavily-glossed fingernail out toward her shoulder.
"Oh," Lorna said, nodding her head, "well, under some circumstances, Mrs. Hanratty, uh, Maria, I would certainly love to oblige, but you see, as soon as my car gets fixed, I'm gonna blow this ... I mean, I'm gonna leave town. Leave Fall City. See?"
She felt a little penned in. Slightly strangulated. The air of the house grew tense and heavy.
"You're not going anywhere till I tell you, Lulu Belle," Wes Hanratty said like an arresting officer on the make, "you're gonna stay right here and get it on with Maria, like I say. You're gonna stay right here and get it on with the little woman. And I'm gonna see to it. I caught you tonight, Lady, I got you fucking with my nephew and he ain't even eighteen yet. I got you dead to rights and I got you right where I want you."
CHAPTER TWO
So that hot, horny lad had lied to her. Well, she thought, it had happened before. He certainly didn't look like a seventeen year old. He wasn't hung like one!
But that was in the past. What the hell was she going to do now? What was she going to do with hot Ozzie and horny Harriet here? She thought of a few ploys. The "what kind of a girl do you think I am" one. But that was no good. Sheriff Hanratty already had a pretty good idea of what kind of a girl she was. Then there was the "Gosh, I'd like to but . ... " Hadn't she just tried that one? And hadn't Sheriff Wes adjusted his gun holster and told her to skip it?
"You two get started, you little foxy ladies, you," the man said, "I'm gonna have me a quick shower and I'll be back real soon."
Guess he-likes to walk in on the action, Lorna thought. Typical profile of a hopeless voyeur. She had seen them before. She had seen it all before. And she wasn't even that old. Only five years older than the minor she had been screwing with earlier in the evening. Where had the night gone?
"I know I don't look like the type," Maria said, shyly swinging her pert buttocks back and forth a little, "but I love to suck. I mean, pussy. I love to get sucked, too. Oh, shit, why am I trying to hide anything? I love it any way I can get it. And don't you worry about Wes. He can take it. He can take both of us and have some left over. Got a cock on him that would do a horse proud."
Lorna figured it ran in the family, "okay, Maria," she said, relaxing into the plastic stuffed back of the kitchen chair and staring at the wall oven, "where do we start?"
"Well," she said, sounding very bewildered, "shouldn't we get undressed first?"
"Good idea," Lorna shot back gamely. If she was gonna play in this romper room, she might as well start thinking like a romper.
Before the words left her mouth completely, she saw Maria barreling out of her pedal pushers and panties. Then she peeled her halter top off and stood showing off her big tits.
"You like?" Maria said, reaching over and grabbing a plastic rose from the vase centerpiece on the kitchen table. She placed it firmly between her teeth and lay back on the kitchen table.
"Fine," Lorna said, wishing to hell her cunt didn't start clicking together every time she saw a naked woman, especially considering these circumstances. But then, beautiful women had always been a special weakness of hers, and tonight was to prove no exception to that weakness.
"I'm dying to see what you look like. I mean, if the inside is anything like the outside." Maria reached down from her Naked Maja pose on the kitchen table and opened Lorna's blouse a little. "Phenomenal!" she praised.
Loma had no idea she could use a word like that.
"Ooooooh," Maria squealed, "Let me," she grabbed Lorna's hands and tossed them off her buttons as she took the job in her own capable, eager hands.
She pulled her blouse off over her shoulders and cupped one hand around the woman's huge, high breast. "God, I love the color of those nipples. Mine are so pinky, pink. I wish they would get darker. But yours are really brown. like melting chocolate."
She pulled herself over closer by gripping onto the edge of the table and came face to face with Lorna. "Green eyes, fuck I love green eyes. I've got these big, ugly blue things. like cornflowers in July."
She reached down and brought her pouty little bee stung lips to meet Lorna's sculpted sensual ones. She kissed her deeply and stuck her hot, probing curled-up tongue down her throat.
Lorna noted that she may not have been artful, but she was certainly sexy. Without any warning, she made a nose dive down to her tits and popped her huge brown circular nipple into her mouth. She sucked with all her might until Lorna could feel her nipple growing up to the size of her thumb. The woman was one fine little sucker, she had to give her that.
"Take your skirt off," she said, pushing it down with her own hand as Lorna fumbled for the zipper. Much as she didn't like to admit it, this little blonde sucker was turning her on.
Turning her on good.
She pulled the skirt down hurriedly and raised her hips up just enough to let her panties off. She kicked them aside furiously and sat back down and spread her legs.
She felt an irresistible urge to diddle herself with her finger, thought of maybe fingering herself with one hand and Maria with the other, but she was interrupted from carrying out either pursuit.
"Let me," Maria cooed as she rolled over to expose her flat tanned body to the kitchen ceiling. She let her shoulders over the edge of the table in a remarkably proficient back bend and came down to let her head rest in Lorna's outstretched lap.
Lorna eyed the love buttons of the woman's big tits and made straight for them. She massaged and kneaded them expertly while the woman brought her horny tongue down into the crevice of her cunt.
Maria licked the fleshy, pink cunt lips round and round with her hot, wet tongue weapon. She felt the woman's clit engorging and pushing up between her wet, hot inner lips. She pressed it gently with her tongue and squirmed as it bounced back. This was fun!
Lorna felt the woman's tongue log rolling over and over her clit. Then around and around the spread lips of her quivering pussy.
She knew how to hit the mark all right, this woman did.
"Feels like an April shower," she mumbled, wondering with half her brain how long they would be left alone before mean old Sheriff Wes stormed back in.
She sure didn't need him.
She twirled the woman's ample pink thimbles in her fingers and reached out along her belly to find her cunt. She had to move in a little on her to do so, but she did it.
Now, at last, she could diddle this horny little lady and get the full impact of her pulsating pushing tongue on her clit and around and inside her cunt. The woman seemed to be finding places to suck Lorna had never heard of before. What a tongue.
She ran her smooth finger pads around the open circle of Maria's thick, pink cunt lips. She could just barely glimpse the luscious honey blonde bush of the woman's cunt mound from where she was seated and bouncing up and down on the kitchen chair. It was delicate and creamy and the color of flax. She sunk her fingers, one, then two, then three into the valley of the girl's cunt slit. Then she moved those fingers and out slowly. The suction sound of them being vacuumed up in there and expelled out with each rhythmic, muscular motion aroused her even more.
Maria was digging her tongue deeply into Lorna's cunt now and it felt like a velvety tunnel up in there. Smooth and wet and inviting. She wished she had an even longer diddle stick to work up in there, but right now, this tongue of hers would have to do.
"Feels better by the second," Lorna said, emitting a glow of warmth up from the space between her cunt lips. Her whole socket felt ignited. Ignited by the thrusting ramming tongue pole.
Maria brought her hands up and squeezed Lorna's nipples hard. She winced and bounced an extra high bounce off the kitchen chair seat. This woman was really going to town on her. And it didn't hurt a bit, not one bit.
It felt fantastic!
Slowly, the woman let her head up, "I gotta stop this a second," she said, heaving in big gasps of hot air, "all the blood's running to my head."
And all my blood's running to my clit, Loma thought.
"Let me get on top of you and fuck you," she chirped, swinging her legs around and sitting up.
They dangled over the edge of the table a moment and Lorna wondered just exactly how this woman intended to "fuck" her. But, she no doubts that the woman would. It was just a matter of how.
Maria pushed herself off the table and landed square in Lorna's lap. She kept her legs wide apart, straddling the seated woman and rubbed her downy, hot cunt against Lorna's pelvic bone. She pushed Lorna's thighs apart far enough so that she slipped down and her butt hit the same seat Lorna was touching.
"Now pull them together, fast," the blonde woman whispered into the same ear she had begun thrusting her tongue into.
Lorna whipped them together and felt Maria ride up to come flush against her pelvic bone.
"Pull them apart, come on," she said, thrusting her tongue into the black-haired woman's nostril. "Pull them apart and then slap them together again. Real fast."
Lorna splayed her thighs out and felt the woman's pussy lips, slide hard against her own. She felt the woman's engorged clit rub hers hard on the down slide. The upswing was every bit as arousing and the downslide and the upswing one after another, one after another in rapid fire succession was about as arousing as anything she cared to experience that night.
"Far out," Maria said, wiggling her ass cheeks together hard and letting them go as Lorna shot her legs out far apart. "Kiss me." Maria hissed.
Lorna let her lips part and felt that insistent hot roll of a tongue come careening down her throat. It slobbered and salivated and kicked up in every part of her sensual mouth opening. That woman could kiss like a son of a bitch, no doubt about it.
"Ass fuck me," the woman said, bringing her tongue away just long enough to form the words.
Loma brought her long, stately fingers around and felt the plump, hard little mounds of the woman's buttocks. They were bouncing up and down very fast now, as Lorna kept jerking her legs open and thrusting them closed.
She brought one long finger up and stuck it into the hot hole their two mouths had created. She brought it out wet and slobbery. Then she found Maria's wringing moist sphincter and worked her finger around its edge. She slipped it up inside the girl's anus smoothly and worked it up slowly inside her heaving little tight bung hole.
The moans poured out of Maria's deep, pulsating throat. She brought her lips off Lorna's a second more. "God, that's good, just keep it up."
Lorna wished she had had stamina to keep it up a long time, but she was getting very aroused. She felt Maria's huge nipples rub against her own and the woman's fingers momentarily pinching their nipples together, rubbing them for increased friction. As if they weren't creating enough of it in every other orifice of their bodies.
Then the woman would let their nipples go and find some other place of Lorna's hot rollicking body to prod, stick or massage. The bouncing and sucking and plugging and smacking went on for another three to five minutes. Lorna really wasn't certain.
"I'm gonna come," the woman whispered into her throat. "I'm gonna go off. God, hold me. Hold me!!!!!! "
The shudders began like earth tremors somewhere inside her head. By the time they got to her tits they were mini-quakes of spasmodic rumblings, and as they worked their way into her cunt and thighs, they were huge, land-splitting earthquakes, that would have measured high on the Richter scale.
"Fuck me!! " she shouted and bounced with all her might, "fuck me, oh, Christ, I can't get enough. More, fuck me more."
Lorna plunged her finger all the way into the woman's throbbing poop chute. She pulled it back out and plunged it in again. She was plugging her with everything she had and the woman still wanted more.
"God, oh, God, that's good!" she screamed.
Lorna figured she had woken up the entire neighborhood and half the county by now.
"Fuck me, oh let me feel that pussy on my pussy," she screamed louder than before, "fuck me with that big ripe pussy, that big, juicy cunt. Oh, God."
Again the woman was seized with a whole cosmos of orgasms. She came in every size and description. She pounded and ground her hips hard into Lorna's and spilled her come juice over and over again into the woman's waiting wet hole.
Lorna looked a moment to see Sheriff Wes Hanratty standing in the kitchen door holding a black leather bull whip.
"Aha!!! " he said, snapping the whip hard into the still, deodorized air, "Caught ya! Caught ya both.! "
Lorna felt a rivulet of sweat running down her temple. What the hell was this joker's game, anyway?
"Sorry, Honey, we were just . ... " Maria threw one leg over Lorna's head and brought herself over to a side-saddle position on the dark-haired woman's lap. "We were just talking, ya know."
"I know. She was Santa Claus and you were telling her what you really wanted for Christmas! Don't lie to me, woman, I saw the two of you bumping pussy. Now fess up!'
Again the whip went off like a gun shot and
Lorna found herself clenching her teeth in spite of herself.
"I'm gonna see to it that you two lezzies get what's coming to you. Don't you know that copulating with one of yer own kind is a cardinal sin. Hell, no respecting cardinal would ever do what you two are doing. And I ought to know, I been a bird watcher all my life. Ain't that so, Little Woman?"
He sneered and bared his teeth in his wife's face. Lorna noted that she looked truly terrified. Was it all an act? Probably. But it made her uncomfortable just the same. She eyed the back door of the kitchen and wondered how far she'd get if she made a run for it. About as far as the end of old Sheriff Wes's whip would reach.
"Anything you say, Baby," Maria gurgled. She tried sticking her tits in her husband's face, but he pushed them out of the way like a half-eaten plate of food.
"You better believe it's anything I say. Anything I say goes. And you both know I mean it. Don't you?"
Now he was glaring at Lorna and baring those yellow teeth. She looked back at him and wondered for a split second if she should agree or laugh in his face. Still that bull whip was real enough. And the way he held it. That was more than real enough. And the way he snapped it hard into the air. That was scary.
"Yes," she said, closing her eyes slightly and bowing to him. "Anything you say, Master."
"That's more like it," the man brayed, strolling to the middle of the floor and pulling a kitchen chair out and under him.
He sat down and spread his legs slightly.
"I think I want a blow job," he said nodding his head to affirm himself, "and I think I know who I want to give it to me."
"Sure thing, Sweetie," Maria said, rushing onto her knees to oblige the lord of the manor.
"Not you," Wes said, shoving her out of the way and yanking his big zipper down with a snarl. "Both of yous."
Lorna had thought she had seen it all in Chicago. She thought she had heard and seen every possible sex combination and taste, every kinky perversion and predilection possible, but there was always room for one more. A two-woman blow job. Really! But Sheriff Wes was intent on carrying out his will. He waved his bull whip around once more like a berserk cowboy and let it dangle in one hand while he fumbled for his man meat.
He hauled it out and let it dangle down onto the plastic seat cover of the kitchen chair. Lorna had seen some mighty ones in her time, and this man definitely qualified as having one. Flaccid it looked like a disused fire hose. She wondered what would happen when the thing got hard. Then she tried not to think about it.
"They grow them this big in the big city?" the man bragged, swinging his dick a little and grinning broadly.
Lorna hoped to hell he wasn't expecting an answer. She had always been able to give good head. Every customer she had ever had had praised her ability in that area. And, many times, she had enjoyed having a good, thick log rolling around her mouth. Some cocks even Fit in there so snuggly as to give her goose bumps just recalling them, but this guy was going to be a special challenge. And then, there was Maria.
"Get down on yer haunches, Cow!" he ordered to his wife, cracking that old leather thong into the air again and sitting back to let his pants down. He kicked them hard to one side, narrowly missing Lorna's chin.
"You take my balls, Suck Queen," he barked at Lorna.
So, she was to get those enormous big grapefruit to roll around in her mouth. She figured she'd be lucky to get half a one in her mouth, but both of them? The mind boggled.
"Now," the man said, getting comfortable in his hard-back plastic throne, "suck me off and take your goddamn time about it!"
"Sure thing, Big Boy," Maria purred.
Lorna noticed that she seemed to be getting into the swing of things nicely. Possibly not the first time they had had a female guest for dinner.
Sheriff Hanratty scooted his round, muscular buttocks flush with the edge of the chair and let his balls dangle down. Then he grabbed his long, thick whang and fed it, tip first, into his wife's pouty pink mouth.
"Get on those balls, Lady, and make it last!" he said, signaling that he meant business by flicking his wrist and letting the whip fly.
Lorna was getting to like the sound of it less and less.
She got onto her butt and spread her legs for balance. She looked up into the soft, round globes of Sheriff Wes's hairy, big balls. She massaged one with her hand and found the sensation not at all unpleasant.
Maria got onto her knees in the typical slave position and let her husband stick his dick up into her mouth. She lapped the dome of it round and round in ticklish, tongue movements. Then she sucked the top of it up and down a little before moving onto the rim. It would take a while to work her way down. She knew how he liked it. Slow, but with mounting pressure. She felt it harden a little as she worked her tongue, first in clockwise, then in counter-clockwise circles of lapping and slurping. Her tongue loved the feel of the man's big cock head on it.
Sheriff Hanratty eased his hardening pecker in and out from between his wife's thick pink lips. She could give head all right. And that dark-haired woman, she could knead and squeeze those balls of his right on cue. If the two of them could start working in concert now, he'd have it just like he wanted it. Just like he had always wanted it.
"Suck those balls," he said, keeping a tight grip on the whip. A man never could tell when he might need a weapon, letting two high-strung petunias work on him.
Maria felt herself getting very aroused by the sucking and licking movements. When she looked down, she could see Lorna right under her giving her old man the time with her mouth and hands. The noises of her sucking and the woman under her sucking contributed greatly to the heightening of her arousal. She pulled her lips off the man's throbbing schlong and worked it with her hands. She pumped it hard, just the foreskin up to the tip and back, Hard, thrusting little strokes. Quick ones, the kind of variety he liked. Soon he was moaning and holding his head back. Maria looked down.
"Get up on all fours," she whispered to
Lorna. "Let me sit on your hips."
By this time, Lorna's cunt lips were clacking together like castanets at a fandango festival. She figured, what the hell. So she put her weight on her hands and feet, raised her body, tits and cunt turned up, into the air. She braced herself in that position, thanked the fates that she had the muscular stamina to stay there for more than eight seconds, and continued to lick and suck like a house on fire. Those balls did taste good, damn it, they certainly did.
"Oh, do some work on my pecker, Woman," Sheriff Wes moaned, "take it into your sweet little suck hole and work on it the way I like."
Maria was sitting right on top of Lorna's cunt when she got his signal. She slowly pushed her cunt downward toward the other woman's spread out thighs. She made contact with her growing clit flap and bounced up and down until her own became engorged. As she did this, she continued to take a little more of the man's insanely huge cock rod down her throat. It tickled and choked her as she consumed ever more of it. The woman loved the feel of her man's big dick inching down her tiny throat shaft.
"Hum!" Sheriff ordered, "Hum on those balls."
Christ, thought Lorna, a hum job. He wants a hum job. What'll he think of next?
She closed her mouth trap around one huge, bouncing hairy ball and began the little hum vibration down in her throat. She could feel it vibrate all around inside her. And the ball she held there so tightly was vibrating, too. So was her pussy. As it should have been. Maria was rubbing it so hard with her own horny little clit she was getting rope burn.
"Say, Suckers," the Sheriff said with a proud smile on his lips, "you're not bad, either of you."
Maria bounced her pussy up and down and then began making little circles with her hips as she continued to suck and slurp all over Wes's prize cucumber dick. She reached one hand up and grabbed it firmly as she slid off and extended her long tongue to daub and flick the head again. She knew what he liked, all right. She slurped and licked and circled her tongue round and round the huge head as she began masturbating him up and down with her practiced hand. It was too small to go all the way around his prick, or his prick was too big to allow her hand to go around it, but she knew what to do. And from the feeling her clit was getting, from the increased pressue on her throbbing pussy lips, she knew that Lorna knew what she was doing, too.
Lorna felt Maria's bouncing and circling rhythms go straight to her insides. Somewhere in her groin. That slight little ache began. The ache that told her she was getting very aroused. The ache she always fought, knowing it was a hooker's downfall, to get excited, but then, what the hell, who was paying her for this shot? She sucked harder on the man's big bouncing balls, first one, then the other. No way she could ever get the two of them into her mouth at once. It would take a mouth the size of a cave to do that.
"Suck that dick, oooh, suck those balls," the man said, feeling his oats. Christ those women were good. Two horny little chickadees and he had them both trapped. He tried to remember how to best hold that whip like he meant it as he felt his wife take his long, thick ramrod down into her tight little pink mouth. He felt the other woman suck in one of his balls and whoosh it around her wet, hugging mouth hole, then she'd spit it out and take in the other one. She was working on him fast and furiously. And good. Christ, she knew what she was doing all right.
"Suck me, suck me good," he cried out, feeling himself very near the edge of his arousal. Soon, he would go over. Soon, he would be propelled right over and down into that delicious pit of no return. He savored the moment. He held onto the edge as long as he could.
Maria corkscrewed her head every which way as she bore down on the savage throbbing cock pole. She gobbled and slurped and ate every inch of it with greed and sheer delight. She loved her big mean husband's big thick dong and she loved proving it in front of other women. She also loved the plunging pussy-to-pussy sensation she was getting down below. It would be a toss-up as to which one of these pressures would make her come.
Lorna gyrated and thrust up so hard she went onto her tiptoes at several points. The woman's cunt was so hot and eager and throbbing and wet, yes, so fucking wet. And the man's ball bearings were so unbelievably hard and yes, still, strangely flexible. She was the first one to feel him come.
"Christ, suck me, oh, suck me harder," Sheriff Wes said, feeling himself lose the control he was so desperately trying to keep. "Suck those balls, that's right, suck them. God, suck my cock, oh suck that big sucker, yeah. Yeah, yeah."
Lorna felt his balls harden to brick rocks as he tensed way back into his hips and shot his load from the depths of his balls. She felt the load spill out of the two rock things. She felt him emptying his balls as he shot his man load right out the end of his throbbing, heaving, pulsating whang.
"Oh, shit," Lorna heard someone say. She realized, too late, that it was Maria. Maria was coming, too. She had rubbed against Lorna's hard, thick clit so long, so fiercely, that now, she too was coming. She was letting her load out all over Lorna's wet, quivering thick pussy lips. All over her silky, black mount of wispy, wavy cunt hair. All over her cunt slit. Onto her thighs. Covering her clit.
"God, I'm coming," Sheriff Wes shouted to the heavens. . "I'm letting my load out. Oh, Jesus!"
Indeed the man was coming. Just as Lorna had felt him let go first, now Maria was feeding him let go into her hot, aching, grabbing mouth socket. He let his load shoot off and up into her pink, clutching tunnel mouth. He shot and he shook all over when he spilled. He emptied an enormous load of jism right into his wife's sucking, greedy mouth hole.
Lorna was aware only of their mutual heavy rounds of breathing as she braced herself hard against the floor. She knew she was going to just keep jerking some more. She knew she couldn't stop. She was still too excited. She couldn't stop the automatic reflex of jerking up onto the woman's spread eagle cunt again. It felt so good, bruising her clit against the woman's firm, hard one. She held the man's balls in her mouth. She locked them there safely, savoring the last of their twitches and wrinklings. Then she thrust her pussy up hard onto the woman's eager, waiting hot cunt lips.
"Oh, God," Maria heard herself say as she felt the upward contact, the brisk rubbing, the warming again encircle her clit and burn down either one of her hot, wet pussy lips. "Oh, God, I'm coming again!!!!! "
She entwined her legs hard around the woman's thighs and pumped her spunk out once more onto her cunt lap. She let the woman take her load again as she thrust and heaved her hot behind up and down and up and down and she pumped her come into the pussy table under her. Her clit felt as though it would explode under so much pressure and she dumped her load again and again. She was caught in a seizure of non-stop come spasms.
"Fucking little Lesbo!!!!! " the man raged.
Lorna looked up to see the angry man shaking his wife off her cunt. She hadn't wanted her to leave. She was feeling so hot and sexy having the woman push against her wet, receiving pussy lips that way. But here was this man. Here was this angry, storming bull of a man yanking his tiny little blonde wife right off the top of her. It was unfair. It was just downright cruel.
"Fucking dyke!!! " he shouted again, "You're supposed to come cause my cock is in your mouth, not cause you're humping pussy. Homo!! Lousy lezzie Homo!!!!! "
The man was off like a car out of control. He was careening from one side of the chair to the other, yanking his balls out of Lorna's mouth with his wide, pendulum swings of full blown rage.
"'I came cause I was sucking you off, Wes," Maria pleaded, her big blue eyes welling up with tears, "I came cause your big, hard cock was stuck down my mouth. Honey, you know how I love it!!! "
Sheriff Hanratty wasn't buying any of it.
"I let one lousy dyke whore into this house and you turn lezzie on me. Fuck, am I blind. Stupid, dingbat that I am. A blind stupid husband. I must have been nuts not to see you were turning gay on me." The man was furious. He was shaking his tiny rag doll of a wife as hard as he could.
Lorna was afraid her neck might snap. She tried to catch her breath and think what to do. But in the confusion, there wasn't much she could do.
"You got it wrong, Baby," Maria begged, feeling her own breath being cut off by the big strangulating hand of her angry husband. "I wouldn't go homo on you. I love you, Honey."
"Tell me some more garbage, Dyke Girl!" he screamed, picking up his whip and cracking it a good one.
Lorna felt the sweat of arousal turn into cold sweat as the insane bantering continued.
"I didn't do nothing, Honey," the woman shrieked, sobbing as hard as she could; "It was all her fault, Baby."
"What are you saying?" the man said, stopping his movements in a freeze frame.
"That woman is a dyke. Wes," she said, gasping for air and rubbing her throat. She felt as if she had come very nearly to being choked and she had finally come up with something he would buy. "She made me fuck her, Sugar. When we were alone in here, before you came in, she paid me to sit down on her. Even while I was blowing your big one, Sweets. She told me she wanted to fuck me again, even though I would have to blow you at the same time. And she gave me money! Honest, Wes."
Lorna took in a big breath and tried to let it out as calmly as she could. She braced for the next "What's all this clap-trap?" he said, though Lorna knew from the sound of his voice he was starting to buy it.
"She made me do it! That lousy Lesbian made me fuck her. She wants to take me away from you." Maria let her words ring out like church bells on a winter day. She knew what happened next would all depend on how well she stuck to her story. Her husband's temper would rule the day if she didn't manage to keep calm now.
"What did you say?" the man said, sounding much quieter now. The quietness of his voice gave Lorna a complete set of chills in every part of her body.
She never liked admitting she was scared, but fight as she might, she was, she definitely was.
"Paid me off," the woman whispered, moving close to her husband's knees and gazing up at him like a sick puppy. "Gave me money to fuck her while I was blowing you. She's a real sicko, she is. Kick her out, Baby, kick her out on her ass. I never want to see her again."
Maria started a series of pathetic sobs. Lorna rolled her eyes toward the left and took in the back door again. Sheriff Hanratty got into his pants, grabbed his bull whip and stood up tall.
"I'll do one better than that," he said, sounding like the Commandant of a French Legion about to command a firing squad, "I'll arrest her. I'll haul her in for prostitution. I'll run her out of town on a rail. You bet I will."
CHAPTER THREE
"Well, I would," the corn-pone voice said into the phone receiver, "but as you well know, Edith and Joe's place ain't in this county."
The deputy of the jailhouse of Grunion County was sitting up with his feet on the desk again, minding the store just like daddy told him to.
"Sure, I know that," he said, chewing on a tooth pick and letting out a long, low belch, "we eat there all the time. I do, anyway. But the restaurant itself is in Belzer County. If somebody's acting drunk and disorderly, you'll just have to call Sheriff Heithaus in Belzer."
Lorna couldn't help overhearing the conversation. It was about all there was to hear in that prison cell. That and the cockroaches playing leap frog in the corners.
"Anytime, Edith, sure thing." the helpful law enforcer stuck the phone back in its cradle. "What you staring at?" he said to Lorna.
"Your watch," she said, wondering what the hell time it was getting to be. And whatever time it was, where the hell was that sheriff? From the sound of that last phone call, he was not at Edith and Joe's making an arrest.
"Four fifteen," the man pronounced, and let his wrist dangle again. "You ever give out any free samples, Lady? I mean, I can't take no money from ya, on account of that would be illegal, but how bout a little tiny teaser? Huh, what do you say?"
"Shove it up your Lorna's next word was cut off by the telephone.
The deputy answered it and said "Uh huh" about fifty times before he nodded at her. She took it from that nod that it might be Sheriff Hanratty. Whatever he was saying she wished to hell she knew.
"Yeah," the deputy mouthed at last, "she's behaving herself. Bout as well as you'd expect a smart street walker to behave. Course, we could stand to wipe some of the slut off her mouth, but I'll need a warrant for that."
The man gave her a big wink and licked his greasy lips together.
Lorna figured anything might be possible in this crazy county. What the hell was it called again? Grunion? Sounded like the name of a dwarf in a Grimm's Fairy Tale. Very grim indeed judging from the look and feel of things in this dungeon.
"Well," the deputy said, puffing himself up like a peacock and putting the phone down. "You've been tried. It's all over. And you can be thankful it didn't turn out a whole lot worse!"
"Tried?" the woman said, gripping onto the bars and trying to stay calm. "Was I sentenced?" She felt like Alice talking to the Red Queen.
"No, and that's what you've got to be thankful for."
"Mr. Deputy, Sir," she said, trying like hell to sound normal, "Begging your pardon, but how could I be tried when I wasn't even present?"
"Now how could you be present at your own trial if you were in jail?" the man rocked his chair up to all four legs and sat there glaring at her.
"Oh, I get it," she was starting to understand a little. Anything was possible in Grunion County. Anything the law had anything to say about.
"In absentia!" the law man said, proudly. "Ever hear of it?"
"No, why don't you explain?" Lorna said, beginning to tire of the whole, silly charade.
"You were tried in absentia, meaning you were tried while you were absent from the trail. You were found guilty." The deputy shook his head slowly.
"Of course," Lorna replied shaking her head the same way.
"But you were not sentenced!" The deputy stood up and walked toward her jingling his keys. "However....."
Lorna sat down on her bunk and braced herself for the worst. Then he hit her with it.
"Your car was impounded to pay for grievous damages to one Maria Hanratty, whose character I understand you defamed quite heartily, I understand."
Lorna wondered where she had ever heard that getting it on with another woman was defaming her character, but then, this was Grunion County.
"You have also been legally warned to leave the county immediately or risk further arrest and conviction. Now I'm going to let you out. I most strongly suggest that you high tail your ass out of here like the wind. Sheriff H. ain't in a good mood."
The man slipped his keys into the lock and wiggled them. The door creaked open and Lorna stepped out into the office. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
"Thanks," she said, a tinge of bitterness in her voice. She clutched her trench coat a little tighter and headed for the door. With any luck she would get out of it and live to tell about it.
As soon as she turned her back on the man, he might shoot her. The thought had occurred to her.
"Don't take any wooden nickels," the man said, cheerfully as she let the big jail house door slam behind her.
He hadn't shot her, but those tired old parting words of his had wounded her somewhat. Hadn't she already taken a wounded sheriffs wife that evening? How many hours ago had that been anyway?
She reached into her pocket as the crisp fall air hit her full in the face. She felt her comb, a tube of lipstick, a crushed package with two cigarettes left in it and a lot of loose tobacco.
Her other pocket yielded little more. A dollar bill, a bobby pin, and ticket stub. Where the hell had that come from?
Her steps lead her uncertainly out into the street. The town was absolutely dead. It was a two-lane corpse all right. The only light on was coming from the funeral home down the street. Beyond that, she could see a little strip of highway. It was the one that connected to the main road. Across it, under an overpass was a blinking neon sign with part of the lettering gone. Big semi-diesels and twoton trucks were parked out in front. Evidently, it was the one place in town left open, that is if you happened to be alive. The sign blinked on and off. "Edith and Joe's", "Edith and Joe's", it blinked. "A Fine Place To....." the rest was blacked out.
She felt her stomach walls churn around three hundred and sixty degrees and wondered if she could make it as far as the diner. She also wondered how far a dollar bill would go toward getting her anything to eat. Then she stopped in her tracks. Hadn't she been told to get out of Grunion County? She couldn't stop there. She'd have to get away to . ... but what had the deputy said on the phone? Something about Edith and Joe's. Yeah, Edith and Joe's was over the county line. In another In Blitzer, Belson, Belzer . ... that was it. Then she saw a tiny red and white sign that confirmed it. The diner across the highway was sitting in another county. At least she could go there and have a cup of coffee with impunity. Maybe. If she was lucky.
Considering how she felt right now, weak in the knees, across the highway would be about as far as she could walk anyway.
The little beacon shone out to her and gave her the necessary encouragement to make it across the four-lane road and up onto the steps. She opened the door and immediately, the aroma of hot coffee and greasy roast beef. Typical diner smells. Only tonight they smelled better than usual.
The place looked nice enough. Probably she could avoid ptomaine here. It was clean enough, and there was a big friendly red-haired woman behind the grill. She had a bust that stuck out far enough to set a whole tray of food on and a curvaceous set of hips that almost, but not quite, balanced it.
A few truckers sat in the corner. Chatting together. Another two or three sat alone at the counter in front of huge, steaming platefuls of meat and potatoes and the obligatory vegetable.
"Hi," the woman said, flipping a hamburger without even looking down at what she was doing. "Glad to see ya. Why don't you sit here at the counter? I'll take good care of you. Don't get many ladies in here this time of day. What'll you have?"
Lorna remembered that it was daytime. Almost, anyway. It was nearly five in the morning. There were some people that began their day then, instead of ending the way she usually had.
"I'm afraid not much, I'm a little short of funds at the moment. Bring me a coffee and a muffin, would you?"
Lorna hauled her aching, tired carcass onto the round swivel stool at the counter and hoped nobody would mind that she didn't exactly look her best. But then, she wasn't exactly hustling at the moment, either.
"That's no kind of breakfast, Girlie," the woman said, boldly. "Let me bring you the regular special, eggs and juice, toast, that stuff. You look like you could use it. Pay me later, Hon."
Lorna started to protest, but her stomach just wouldn't let her speak up.
"Very nice of you," she said in a quiet voice.
"I'm Edith," the buxom cutie said as she brought Lorna a huge plateful of breakfast goodies. "Who's yourself?"
"Lorna," she said, gobbling down a chunk of home fried potato and reaching across the counter to shake hands with the woman.
"Take your time with that," the woman said, watching her eat like a ravenous prisoner, "there's plenty more where that came from."
Maybe people were nicer in Belzer County, she thought as she relaxed with the food and felt her nerves calming a little. No, she doubted it. It was just too close to old Grunion. And mean old Sheriff Hanratty. And his dip stick brained wife.
Lorna slowed down with the coffee. She stared into the black pool of it and wondered how in the hell it had all happened so fast. And what was she going to do now? That was eating her even harder. Her car was gone, all her belongings were gone, too. Shit, she didn't have her purse with her. Sheriff Hanratty's adorable wife was probably going through it right now, trying on her lipstick.
"You from around here?" a big booming voice said turning toward her. A trucker built like a megaton bomb was swiveling her way.
"No," she said, wondering how the hell she was going to lie her way out of this one, "I'm just passing through." It was half the truth anyway.
"You ever see a twelve-shift?" the man asked, drawing himself up and sounding very chummy.
She'd seen some nine and a half inchers, but never a twelve.
"What?" she managed to get out, in a polite, school-girl tone.
"My truck," he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and leaning against the counter. "I drive one of those big twelve-gear jobs. Got twelve tires on her. Not to mention a load of very bored cattle in the back. On my way to Omaha. Ever been there?"
"No," Lorna hoped to hell she'd never have to go. "But your truck sounds very big."
She turned back to her plate a moment and thought it out. Here this nice woman had just given her a lovely breakfast, one of the best she'd ever had, in fact, and she didn't even have enough money to tip her properly. Maybe the guy would go for a little action. The question was, could she score in the parking lot, in his truck, or. .....
Her thoughts were interrupted by him. He swung his tree trunk legs around and stood up. The guy must have been seven feet tall, not to mention wide. His shoulders would block him from getting through the door.
"Excuse me, Ma'am," he said, aiming his huge frame toward the men's room door.
How he would ever get through it was a mystery to Lorna Then it occurred to her. If I can follow him in there. Let's see, not many people to notice. Ten minutes. Tops, twelve. I could score. Give him a nice John joint blow job. No big deal. Maybe I'd even have enough for a bus ticket out of this burg. Hell, I gotta give it a shot. One more hour in this part of the country and I'll qualify for a farm loan!
She slipped quietly off the stool and headed for the men's room. She kept a close watch on the customers who all seemed much to busy diving into their food and chit chat to care what she did. She got to the bathroom door and readied herself to walk in. Then she felt a tap on her shoulder. A gentle, friendly little tap.
"Come here," Edith said, beckoning her over to the end of the counter. Lorna had completely missed spotting the woman who evidently had been watching her quite closely. "I can't let you go in there. First place, you're sure to get caught."
"Huh?" Lorna said, looking around for John Law, Sheriff What's His Face, or anybody who remotely looked like an arresting officer.
"These big lugs sitting here. They don't look at ya. But they see ya anyhow. They got night vision, peripheral vision, and bathroom vision. They'd be in here like a shot. And you'd be standing there with your stripes down. You look too little to me, though God knows you're tall enough. I don't figure you'd want to take on six of 'em at once."
Lorna considered putting on her "who are you talking about, little old innocent me?" routine, but she dropped it like a hot poker. The woman had her. She knew exactly what she was up to. Well, she wasn't dealing with a fool, Lorna had to hand her that.
"If you want to pick up some lunch money," the woman said, whispering to her in a low, motherly tone, "go out to his rig with him. He asked if you wanted to see it, didn't he?"
Brother, Lorna thought to herself, this chick misses nothing.
"Now some of these road warts can't be trusted, but I know this guy a long time. They call him Straightaway. He's good for his word. Just don't get greedy and ask for too much. He's a little tight-fisted. But he's fair, I know that."
Lorna wondered if she should cut the woman in for a percentage.
"Now get going and be sure you come back. I want to talk to you when you do."
With that the red-haired gal sailed away to the back regions of the diner and left Lorna standing with her mouth slightly ajar.
"Little girls' room is that way," the trucker said emerging back out the door.
"Oh, I ... I just came over to ask if you wanted to show me your rig."
"My rig?" he said, smiling and bringing his thumbs to rest in his jeans loops.
"Right!" Lorna said, wondering how citified she must have sounded. Well, she was, in fact, a citified girl.
"Gosh, it's big," she said, feeling very dwarfed by the gigantic diesel that sat parked on the edge of the highway. The wheels came up to her shoulders. "How do you ride around with so many noisy cows in back?"
"They're all tranquilized now," Straightaway said, steering her toward the cab. "Look inside here."
Lorna had lived in apartments smaller than his cab. It had a tape deck, white upholstery, radio with head phones or speakers, she didn't know which, and an air-conditioner.
"Nice," she said, as he opened the door.
"Come on in," he said, putting his arm around her shoulder, "Let's see who we can scare up on the CB this time of morning."
"So that's a CB," she said, feeling the big man's hands go around her tiny waist and hoist her upwards, "I been wanting to check one of those out."
"Now's your chance. Just let me get my ears up."
Lorna watched as he hooked himself up to the radio and listened to the static come over it.
"Breaker, Breaker," the man said into the mouthpiece, "this is Straightaway here."
Some meaningless chit chat followed and the man put his mouthpiece down and took his earphones off.
"Can't rouse anybody this time of night." he said turning toward her in the seat, "Besides, what do I want with a CB when I got a million dollar baby sitting right here next to me."
He was certainly making it easy, Lorna thought to herself. And from the looks of the size of the bulge in his pants, the rest might actually be fun.
"A million dollars is a lot of money," she said, peeling her trench coat off and sticking her tits right where they would do the most good.
"If I had it, it would be," the trucker hunk said, admiring every inch of the round, firm pair pressing against the inside of her blouse.
"How much would you consider paying for a reasonable million dollar baby?" Lorna said, leaning over and running her hand up the inside of the man's huge, steely thighs.
"How much is she worth?" Straightaway said, feeling steamy under the cottons.
"We already established that, Driver Man," she responded, smiling and pulling her skirt up high to adjust her stocking. It wasn't necessary, but the guy could get a good look at her legs that way. "The question is, how much do you want to pay?"
Lorna leaned back in the seat and calmly, seductively unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse.
"I ain't got much on me, Sugar," the man said, feeling his long schlong straining against the denim crotch of his pants. If the woman reached down there and felt him up, she'd know he wasn't as cool as he sounded.
"How much is not much?" Lorna said, turning with her blouse hanging open daringly wide and playing all five of her fingers on Straightaway's huge crotch bulge.
"Twenty-fiver will have to do it, Babes," the trucker said, figuring it was time to talk turkey and talk turkey fast. His cock was playing "Please Release Me" in double time.
Shit, Lorna thought to herself. I haven't gone down for twenty-five since I was eighteen and really stupid. No wonder Edith said he was tight-fisted. But she was in no position to argue. And, she had to admit, the bulge in his pants looked inviting, even at this inhuman hour of the morning.
"You're on, Trucker," she said, sliding the slippery blouse off her shoulders.
"Jesus Fucking H.! " Straightaway said when her round moons came into view. "That's a pair I thought I'd never see till after I died and went to heaven."
"Looks like you've got quite a pair yourself," she cooed, burrowing her hand down under his thick wound-up snake and massaging his balls. They felt like baby pumpkins.
"Lemme get these down here," the big man said, going for his aching denim basket.
"Oh, no," Lorna said, thinking maybe there would be a way to get a little more cash out of him, "Ladies' Night. Allow me."
She reached down and disengaged his already-hot zipper. Tooth by agonizing tooth she worked it all the way down. Then she reached slowly in and wrapped her hand around something that felt like a live python. She coaxed the snake meat out of its hold with her kneading, pressing fingers. Then she pulled the thing full out and rested it on one denim-covered thigh.
"Now that's what I call a man-size machine," she said, in her low husky, honey voice. "A real ripper."
"Thank you," Straightaway said, feeling the blush go from his bronze tanned face to his engineer boots.
"Let's see if we can find some nice warm place to keep it for a few minutes," Lorna said as she tickled her fingers all along the shaft and brought them down toward the head. The man's big cock had begun to stiffen and she wondered how big it was going to get before blast off.
"Shit," the driver said, shaking his head, "you're something, ya know that?"
He reached over and steered her skirt up to her hips with his huge, capable hands.
"That's right," Lorna whispered into his ear. "If you find any place that looks good, just let me know."
Straightaway kept going past her thighs and paused a moment to look down at her nylon panties.
"I'd like to pull those things off with my teeth," he said, feeling so aroused he wondered how he could still make words that hung together.
"Suit yourself," the woman allowed him, "anything you like."
He grabbed the tight little panties waistband with his teeth and edged it down slowly. His eyes widened when he saw the delectable black bush shining in the early morning sunlight. It looked like a patch of black raspberries. And every bit as edible.
Lorna felt the man's thick slithering tongue wend its way along her inner thighs and saturate her soft spot. He certainly knew something about the fine art of using his tongue. What else did he know, she wondered.
"Lady," he said, licking his lips and staring up at her, "that's the sweetest little cloverleaf I ever licked."
"You do know how to turn it on."
"You certainly do know how to stick to the road, too," she replied, spreading her legs as far as the panty elastic would stretch.
"Why don't you let me help you off with these things?" Straightaway said, pushing his finger up in between her cunt lips and feeling his own dangling dick stiffen up on him. He hoped he would be able to climb back up onto the driver's seat in time to get the licks he knew would be coming to. Lorna raised her hips and the two of them lowered her panties over her smooth white flanks. When she raised up, she could see the man's dick dangler hardening by the second.
Straightaway brought his thick, surly lips to the woman's taut, thick cunt lips. It proved to be a perfect match. Lip to lip, he sucked and she heaved her hips up and down to get a little more of his hot, ramming tongue up her cunt.
"Could I give you a little inspiration?" she said, winking down at him.
"I don't how much more inspiration you could give me," he said, smiling up and replacing his tongue with his wiggling, long muscular fingers, "but you could give me some head."
"Far out," Lorna said, feeling his thrusting fingers press up higher into already wet and wild pussy.
"Let me get these down," he said, obligingly pulling his great denim jeans down to a safe distance before kicking them to the floor.
"You're hung like a chandelier," the dark-haired woman whispered through wet, eager lips. "One I'm anxious to get my mouth on."
"Jesus," the man said, leaning back and feeling the first moist drop of saliva on the tip of the woman's pink, curled up tongue.
He relaxed into the driver's door as Lorna began her teasingly little butterfly circles around the head of massive cock dome. It stiffened up as if called to attention by some tough marine sergeant.
"God, you're yummy," she said, before plugging her mouth onto his huge fire hydrant prick.
"You suck like a pro," the man said, wondering how that must sound to someone who was undoubtedly the real thing. She sure sucked like she was. His little girlfriend was no match to these hopped up hot lips.
Lorna let her practiced, smooth ribbon throat down on. Straightaway's huge shaft. She chugged along greedily, sucking every centimeter of the way and pulling her cheeks in hard when she rested a moment. Then she pulled back off and circled his head with her darting, gyrating tongue. Then back down for more. She slid down ever more eagerly and flicked her tongue out at his shaft all along the way. When she pulled off this time, she saw his big, veined thick knob glistening from mouth juice as she pulled off it.
What the hell, she thought, it's only going to get a whole lot wetter when I get through.
She reached back and manipulated his balls easily with one hand. Then she brought the other to join that one and gave him the deep massage treatment. Most men could not resist this one. She moved both balls around one direction, then the other, then she countered and moved each a different direction. All slow and easy. All with a velvet glove touch.
The broad knows exactly what she's doing, Straightaway thought to himself.
"Honey, I love the way you suck my overpass, and I'd love to get into your tunnel. What do you say?"
What the hell, Lorna thought, feeling herself highly aroused. As much by the game they were playing as the sweet, gentle manner that Straightaway had. He certainly was making it downright enjoyable for her.
She pulled up off his engorged cock pole slowly and nodded her head. "Sure thing," she said, looking at him questioningly. "Where do you want me."
"Right up against the back seat," Straightaway said, helping her onto her knees. "Just lean against the upholstery and spread your legs. I'm gonna come in from the back. A smooth little parking job, if I do say so."
Lorna got up on her knees and spread them apart. She stuck her ass hard into the air. There seemed to be plenty of room in that huge cab for Straightaway's body to saddle her from behind. But would there be room in her tight pussy hole for his huge waving ram wand?
"Feels like you're ready, Doll," he said, trying to control the mounting excitement of his breathing as he shoved two probing fingers into her cunt. "Gassed up and ready to go. Juiced up, I should say."
Lorna could feel that he was right. She could not deny that her cunt was twitching like a Mexican jumping bean on speed. Now, if the man knew anything at all about fucking, this would be a good fuck. Still, she wasn't sure yet. As soon as his big round head entered her pussy slit, she knew she had a tiger by the tail. But, he did know how to fuck. That she could not discount. He rammed his pecker in a little, then slithered it out and brought it up to her ass hole.
Shit, she thought, an ass man. I should have known. Hurts like hell without lubricant. Wonder how well stocked his glove compartment is.
"Guess you might say I'm kinda an anal man," the big trucker said, flipping open the glove compartment on the monstrous dashboard and reaching in for his ever-handy tube of lubricant. "Hope that's okay with you."
Lorna was about to say it wasn't, but they'd gone this far, she needed the money and her pussy was throbbing to beat the band. It added up to a combination that made her bite her lower lip waiting for him to cram his meat up her ass.
"Sure," she said, trying to laugh a little, "it's your rig."
"I do intend to behave myself, though," the big man said, laying a gob of lube on his pulsating pecker wood. "I'll slide it up slow and with a lot of grease on it."
Nice of him, she thought, relaxing more into the deep leather upholstery.
She felt his strong steel arm encircle her waist from behind as he rotated his cock around near her pulsating pink sphincter. She abandoned herself quickly to his strong grasp as he popped his cock head into her waiting, writhing anus.
Wow, she thought as she felt herself impaled on the huge round head, this guy has got one schlong I don't want to meet on a dark alley without a tube of lube. Thank God he's got some on. I'm not in the mood to bleed tonight.
Straightaway shoved his massive dick tip into the tight, cozy space of the woman's gripping tight bung hole. He loved this. That hard, friction contact of a warm, wiggling ass hole against his ramming rod head. There just wasn't any other sensation in the world to compare.
Lorna gripped the upholstery hard as she felt the man ram his eager meat loaf higher into her oppressively small butt tunnel. She wished it had been a little larger. His grease pole felt like the back field of the Houston oilers climbing up her ass. She transferred her grip from the upholstery onto her clit. She began rubbing to distract herself from the pain with a little pleasure, but quickly found her fingers displaced by Straightaway's strong hand.
"I'd like to do that," he whispered into her dark, massive curly hair, "if you'll let me."
At least this was one guy who knew she had a clit. Lorna gave over to his rubbing her clit.
And he did it like he had been doing it all his life. What a relief! He fingered her love button with an expert hand as he worked his monster machine ever higher, burrowing ever deeper into her writhing, squirming anal canal.
"Jesus!" she heard herself utter at a particular tough bend in the road. He must have come up all the way to her kidneys. She thought she could feel him ramming against them. What a load! What a big, hot hard piece of meat! What an incredible fuck!!
"Lady, I don't figure I can go no deeper," he said softly, feeling her ass sphincter enclose around the hilt of his long, thick shaft.
He pumped her in and out in secret, barely visible movements. He figured to work up to those big thrusting piston strokes in a minute or two. His cock was being strangled. Fucking in this tight, constricting hole. This dark little wet fist. This tiny love tunnel. Christ it was exciting, even life-threatening.
"Oh, God," Lorna shouted as she felt him ramming harder. She was a piece of tissue paper and he was a jackhammer. He was stuffing that mean meat all the way in and yanking it halfway out. The friction was burning her up inside.
"Holy Shit!" the man said, not believing he could hold on this long.
Lorna felt him fingering her clit harder and sneaking his other hand around in front. She winced as he brought it up between her thick, hot cunt flaps and sunk it right up her hole.
"That's the ticket," she said, feeling herself as aroused as she had ever been. "That's gonna do it!!!! "
Sparks started flying around in her head and she saw a few of them go off in front of her eyes when she remembered to open them. She felt her guts clutch themselves and brace against her rib cage.
Straightaway pushed his big dick high into the woman's ass place and drew it out. A little too far. A little too fast. He tempted fate and tried it again as he fingered her clit with one hand and pushed and pulled his long, probing fingers of the other in and out of her wet, whacking cunt.
The sounds he made splitting the woman's hole with his finger, with his cock, heightened his arousal. He knew he couldn't last much longer.
"Fuck!" Lorna shouted as her guts came careening down inside of her. "I'm coming." She humped the man's huge dick as hard as she dared, totally out of control herself. Her ass felt like it was being roasted on a spit. Each turn was another third degree burn.
The man let go a moment and lost control himself. He pounded his meat to what must be broiled hamburger inside the woman's grinding hot ass hole. He grabbed her clit and savagely drilled her cunt with his willing, wet fingers.
"No," he wailed, trying to fight back the impending onslaught of come. Then he let loose with a huge gun barrel of jism. It spilled right out him and right up into that red, raw bung hole. There was barely room for him to shoot inside her, but shoot he did.
"Wow!" was all Lorna could say as she went off like a time bomb. She exploded come out her ass, out her cunt, and probably out her mouth, though she never bothered to check. She spilled her load every which way and felt herself engulfed by the man's heavy load at the same time.
The two of them pounded each other mercilessly as they let off their come loads. As they poured spunk into and onto each other. The hot faucet squirting inside her bung hole gave her shudders and chills and giggles all at the same time. The feeling of this gorgeous creature shuddering and slamming onto his meat gave him a feeling of total power, total domination, total unconditional pleasure.
Lorna kept whacking the man's rock hard prick with her butt hole. She pushed against the back of the seat with her hands so hard she forced him back on his knees. She rode the savage pole to another climax. Another harrowing, wet, dangerous hard climax. She couldn't get enough. She fingered herself harder and harder and brought herself off still again riding hard on the man's wet, fuck stick.
"Lord, Lady," Straightaway said, after a few minutes. A few minutes of trying to regain control of their breathing and other bodily functions. "I thought you were about to put yourself into park. Shit, no, you were shifting into high gear!"
CHAPTER FOUR
Lorna limped back into the diner with her twenty five safely tucked inside her boot. The man had brought her off good all right. But he had tired her out, too. And this after such a long, fucking night. She realized she had only come for the first time all night in the cab of Straightaway's truck.
"Did I peg that highway cowboy right or did I peg him right?" Edith said as soon as
Lorna opened the door. "He's good, but Lord he's tight."
Lorna nodded and felt her ass cheeks burn as she started to take a seat at the counter. After a few attempts, she decided to stand up and talk.
"You get any money, Hon?" she said, stirring some oat meal and spooning it out into a deep ceramic bowl. "I mean you don't look like the type to get ripped off, but you look a little beat, know what I mean?"
Lorna could just imagine. She wondered if she looked like something the cat drug in. She must. It was damn near seven o'clock in the fucking morning and she hadn't slept all night.
"You got a mirror in the ladies' room?" she said, her voice starting to crack behind the zero hours of uninterrupted non-sleep.
"I don't think you need a mirror, Lorna," the woman said, in that chummy motherly voice of hers, "I think you need a bed."
"I could go for that," the woman nodded, "provided it was empty."
"Come on back and see for yourself," she said, beckoning the girl toward her.
Lorna slid behind the counter and followed Edith through the "In" door into a large, clean kitchen. In a small alcove off the pantry storage area there was a sink, a mirror, a window with white curtains and in miracle of miracles, a bed.
"Jesus," she said, not used to anybody's hospitality and feeling her old independence rise up. "I hate to impose. I mean, I got money. Enough for a motel."
"I'm sure you do," the woman said, leaning against a huge chopping block and bringing one able hand to her curvy hip, "but that wouldn't leave you much for bus fare."
Lorna had to admit that was true.
"I wouldn't be stealing your bed, would I?" she asked, feeling her resistance melt away with her exhaustion.
"No way, Hon," the woman replied, turning the covers down and giving the mattress a pat.
It looked good enough to eat. Lorna felt herself sink down into it. She felt her eyelids go closed. She was vaguely aware of the woman unzipping her boots and taking her money out. Thief, she thought, totally wiped out and too far gone to stop her. Lousy little thief, I should have known.
"I'll put this under your pillow," Edith said, sliding the money roll under her head. "You may want to check on it during the night. I know how hard those bucks are to come by."
What had the woman said to her? She knew how hard the bucks were to come by? What did she know? And how? How did she know?
Again, Lorna felt the warm, smooth hands unbutton her blouse and and pull her skirt zipper down. Then she felt her skin hit the sheets and the covers being pulled over her. What? No rape? No molestation? Kinky, she thought to herself. This is a new one. Then she faded dead away. She never remembered the lights going out faster in her life.
"What time is it?" Lorna shouted anxiously and groggily to the body in the kitchen. There was a curtain pulled closed over the alcove and she couldn't see who the human being was.
"Lunch time," came a high-pitched squeaky little voice Lorna didn't recognize. "And man, are we busy!"
Indeed Lorna could hear a lot of talking and dishes rattling against each other from outside the kitchen.
"How did you sleep?" the voice came again. "Edith said you were sagging like an old front porch before you pooped out on her.
"Guess that was right," she said, checking under her pillow for the money roll. It was right where the woman had left it. Her clothes were lying neatly over a little chair next to the bed. "Who are you?" she said, sitting up and reaching for her blouse.
"Luanne," the girl's youthful voice sprang back at her, "I work her lunch times. I'm a part timer. I go to college in Fall City."
Those words made Lorna's whole body rock with nausea. If she ever, ever set foot in that town again it would be as a corpse. No power on earth could drag her there. That was for certain.
"Edith said you had a bad time last night. Hope you hang around and let us show you different. It's a friendly place, Fall City."
Those words again. It was as if Sheriff Wes and his whole family had sent this darling voice to torture her. How could such a sweet-sounding kid sound so much like an avenging angel?
"Could we talk about someplace else?" she said, zipping her skirt up and grabbing one of her boots.
"I would," the girl mumbled, making a terrible clatter of dishes and trays as she did so, "but I never been any place else. Chicago once. But that was when I was a little girl."
Lorna pulled the curtain back and stood all dressed in front of the young waitress. She was cute enough to be a prom queen. Dimpled cheeks, pert little upturned knockers, goldish, blonde hair in long braids. A dainty waistline. She looked like a poster girl for a shampoo add. Except for that silly pink uniform.
"Hi," she said, grabbing a tray and loading it up with empty cups. "I gotta run."
"Luanne," Lorna called after her, "do you have any make up?"
"Sure," the girl replied. She reached into her uniform pocket and tossed her a tube of lipstick.
Lorna caught the gold tube in her outstretched hand and waved to the girl as she disappeared out the "Out" door.
Well, she thought, holding up the solitary piece of make up, I jump started a car once with a bobby pin and I used a rubber glove for a condom once, now I get a chance to make up my entire face with one little tube of cherry frost tone lipstick.
"Sleep all right?" Edith's big voice boomed to the rafters of the kitchen. It was a friendly voice all right, and one that Lorna had already come to like.
"Never better," she said, replacing the lipstick lid and popping it in her skirt pocket.
Then Edith's parting words from the evening before rang into her ears again. I know how hard those bucks are to come by ... that was what she had said. But that could mean she just worked hard for her money. That didn't have to mean she had ever been a hooker. And it didn't mean she knew anything else about Lorna except that she had been low on funds the night before, gone into a big trucker's cab and undoubtedly screwed her brains out, judging from her appearance when she came back that night and the twenty five big ones she tucked under her pillow. That was that. She didn't know anything more and she didn't have to.
"You were one pooped pussy cat, I'll tell you," Edith said, throwing a huge turkey down on the chopping block. She began to cut it up with a knife as though she were a prize-winning butcher.
"I forgot to ask you, last night," Lorna said, wondering whatever gave her the nerve to ask. She didn't ever like to pry in anybody's business. Probably because she didn't like to have people prying into hers. "Where is Joe?"
"Oh," the woman said hacking the bird breast into thick, moist slices of meat, "there is no Joe. I put that name up there to make people think there was a Joe. Might give a desperate man a chance to ponder before he walked in here to try and rob or pillage or rape or whatever desperate men do on the highway alone a night. It was my idea of protection. But the truth is, it's mostly women who work here."
"Well, thanks for the bed," Lorna said, staring at the woman as she cleaned the bone of every ounce of meat and popped the remains and some giblets into a steaming pot of water. Nothing appeared to be wasted around here. Turkey soup was evidently going to be a part of tomorrow's menu.
"Anytime," Edith said, wiping her hand on her apron and reaching out to shake Lorna's.
"Guess I'll be going," Lorna said, wishing to hell she didn't feel so sentimental all of a sudden. It didn't pay to be, not in her line of work. She felt as if she had known this woman all her life. That they had been sisters, or even closer.
"Suit yourself," the woman responded heaping the turkey onto a tray. "Course if you want a job, I always got an opening for a smart gal. Name your own hours, too. I run a twenty-four hour business. Never a dull moment around here."
She grinned and reached for the salt shaker. Lorna thought to herself hard. She wondered. That damned old sheriff and his bird brain wife. Wouldn't it be funny if he came in here and saw her working. Not as a hooker, but as a waitress. With a uniform and everything. Of course, he couldn't touch her here either. It wasn't even his jurisdiction. This was Belzer County. She was safe here, as long as she didn't cross over the line. It was like living on the edge of a little danger, which she liked. But work as a waitress?
"Looks like you got a lot on your mind, Suzy Q., " the red-haired woman said as she replaced the salt and stirred the soup with a big wooden spoon.
Lorna couldn't answer right away. She smiled back at the woman and thought another moment. Why the hell not? She could make money waiting tables, nothing big, but there were always those big road men, the truckers, and if she played it very cool, she could earn some big bucks right here in the middle of Whistle Stop, Nowhere, U.S.A. Plus, she might run into Sheriff Wes again. That could be fun. She knew revenge was a dish best served up sweet. Her smile broadened.
"I been thinking about making a career change, Edith," she said, walking over to the stove and looking into the steam pot where the delicious smelling odor was coming from.
"That so?" the woman said, drawing her spoon out and tasting the soup from it. "Could use some oregano."
"I'm thinking about what kind of waitress I'd make." Lorna looked directly into the woman's big amber eyes. They were dancing with merriment. She was one woman who loved to tease, Lorna could tell that.
"Why don't you start by getting on one of those uniforms in that closet and following me out to the tables. Got a lot of hungry truckers there, sitting down holding their knife and fork skyward, waiting for some luscious angel like you to drop a plate of roast beef on their heads." She pointed to the closet and then turned back to the tray. She shouldered it and headed for the door. "The pay ain't good, but see how you like the tips around here before you start complaining to the boss."
It sounded like permission to Lorna. Permission to get money around here any way she saw fit. And of course, there had only been one way for Lorna. The easy way. The hooker's way. Edith hadn't asked her any personal questions about herself. She had nothing on her. It seemed like a great set up. Now how the hell was she going to show cleavage in a waitress uniform?
Ten minutes later, she emerged from the kitchen showing quite a bit of cleavage. She had unbuttoned the top two buttons of her uniform and managed to tape her tits together with a piece of electrician's tape she had found on a spool in the storage room. It wasn't a push-up bra exactly, but Sheriff Wes's wife was probably right now at this very minute wearing one of her very expensive collection of push-up bras. The rest looked quite good on her actually. If only it hadn't been such an insane cunty pink color. And those ruffles around the edge of the apron! She had never been one to wear ruffles.
Actually, she might have worn them. If her family had had any money. She closed her eyes and felt a rising tide of bitterness swell up in her throat. Her childhood still hurt every time she thought about it.
She had been born to a mother who was very young when she had her. And, of course, she had been unmarried at the time. But then, the house of prostitution where she raised little Lorna took a dim view of married girls working on the premises. The house was a large stone and glass affair that had seen better days. It stood on the corner of a neighborhood that had seen better days as well. It was a tough place to grow up in. Everybody knew she was illegitimate and that her mother was a prostitute. The neighborhood kids used to rag her about it. She had to get as tough, even tougher than they were to survive.
Her mother did marry, about six years after Lorna was born. To a big rugged Italian who couldn't seem to hold down a job. Lorna had gotten her last name from that marriage, but precious little else. Evidently the man had been tied into the organized crime connection of Chicago. Or he was trying to. If he had, he had not been very successful. He finally pushed Lorna's mother to go back to work.
Having a father had made her happy for a while. Kids at school actually stopped jeering at her on the way home and she made a few friends. But when she saw what he was trying to do to her mother, trying to get her to support him by taking in customers, right into their living room, all feeling for the man vanished. She could still remember vividly the day she came home from school and found her mother with another man. She knew right away what it was all about. She knew the man was there on business. She had seen it before.
"Come on in here, little girl," the blonde, mustachioed stranger had said to her. He was holding a glass of liquor in his hand and sitting in the family's tiny living with his feet up on the coffee table. "I know you're too young to drink, but you ain't too young to watch." He threw back his head and laughed heartily.
Lorna looked over at her mother for some sign. The woman was trying to empty ash trays and make things look slightly more presentable than they were. She was wearing a light, see-through pink short gown with a pair of black nylon panties underneath. Her great protruding knockers kept flying out the front slit every time she moved. Lorna had seen her mother's breasts before. They were splendid all right. But she had never seen her display them in front of another man, not since she was six. And that was over five years ago.
"Mr. Gustafson was just leaving," she said, in that sexy, deep voice of hers.
"I was," the tall blonde man said, unbuttoning a button of his vest, "but I think I just changed my mind. How come you didn't tell me you had such a cute kid, Eva?"
Evanna Stucilli stared back at the man and wished to hell her daughter hadn't walked in when she did. She had had enough trouble trying to keep her a secret from the few tricks who had already shown up at the house. When she was a baby, she could hide her easier, but now, a growing and developing girl, she just couldn't stick her upstairs in her play pen anymore.
"Come on, Gus," she said, sitting on the sofa and reaching for the man's package of cigarettes on the coffee table, "Leave the kid alone. Let's go upstairs. No extra charge, huh?"
"I like it fine where I am." The man sat back and gave Lorna a penetrating look that made her shift uncomfortably from one foot to another.
Her mother didn't like the look of any of it. Mr. Gustafson was her best client. He was a labor racketeer, so they said. He had plenty of money, and he liked young girls. Hadn't he come to see her because her husband had bragged that she was only twenty-three years old and the hottest little number on the south side? And he came over to check the next night. Paid her handsomely, too. Of course, he always wanted a lot for his money. And that sucker could spill his rocks three and four times in an hour and a half. He was the damnedest satyr she ever saw. Hung like one, too.
"Can you go in the kitchen and start supper for me, Lorna?" her young mother asked, sticking a cigarette into her succulent lips and leaning over to the man for a light.
"I was just thinking," the blonde giant said uncrossing his legs and bringing them down to the worn carpet, "that I'd like to have this little girl fix my supper, too. And the dish I have in mind, why hell, she wouldn't even have to stand over a stove to fix."
He stood up and reached in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills the size of tea cup. He peeled two off the top and set them down on the coffee table. Then he replaced them in his back pocket. Lorna could see the shoulder holster as he reached back. She had seen them before. It meant the man carried a gun.
Eva felt her cheeks flush with anger and resentment. The man was buying her daughter. And she could do very little about it. If she sent the child away, he would get her anyway, one day, any way he liked. By paying off her husband, by lifting her off the street on her way home from school, maybe by paying her himself. He could even send his goons out for her any afternoon of the week at the school playground. And here he had dumped two hundred dollars on the table. Big money. Bigger than she had seen from anybody since she was a kid herself. He had her in a bind all right.
"What do you want her to do?" the woman said, grabbing what was left of her client's drink and bolting it back. She figured it would be best just to ask, do it and get the cursed thing over with. Her own kid. And not yet twelve years old.
"I'd like to take on both of you, provided I can stand all the excitement."
Eva knew he could stand it all just fine and stay hard for more. She resigned herself to seeing the thing through. She grabbed the money and gave it to Lorna. "It's for your bank, Baby," she said, "Come on, let's go put it in."
She steered her confused daughter to the tiny bedroom and shut the door.
"Mr. Gustafson is giving you money to do what Mommy does," she said, unbuttoning the girl's plain, cotton school dress. "And I want to tell you what to do before...."
"I know what to do," Lorna said, feeling like she had just been shoved off a cliff. "I watched you before."
"I know, Sweetie," the woman said, pulling her daughter's dress off over her curly, thick mass of dark, lustrous hair. "But that hasn't been since you were a kid. You sure you remember?"
She was hoping the child wouldn't remember as she slipped her hands under her little camisole top and worked it off over head. She looked at her daughter's breasts, already starting to mold into smooth white mounds of high, pointed tits. Her nipples were bigger than her mother's already and they were much darker. She knew Gus was going to like her, she just wished it hadn't all happened so soon. She had been ten when she turned her first trick. She had wanted to spare her daughter this. But she guessed it was inevitable.
"I remember," Lorna said, helping her mother slip her cotton candy-stripped panties over her knees and onto the floor.
Eva looked at her child's bare bottom as she stood up and walked to the clothes hamper with her underwear. It was really cherubic. Beautifully rounded and tight. Her cunt was just beginning to sprout with a wispy covering of mossy black hair. But one could still see her big, thick pink cunt lips through the sparse layer.
Lorna put her hands on her hips and stared at her mother. She wondered what the woman was going too dress her in, since she had nothing sexier than flannel pajamas with feet in them.
"I'll get you one of my things," the woman said, brushing her shining copper hair away from her forehead and standing up.
She returned a few moments later with a short, black see-through nightgown and red nylon panties.
" 'Fraid this is all I got small enough for you," she said, knowing full well that it wouldn't be long before her bras would fit her daughter just Fine.
Lorna put it on like it was the most ordinary school dress she owned and stood in front of the mirror. She looked like a nymphet temptress. Her round, high tits stood out in contrast to the dark skin of her large nipples, all of it framed by the black peek-a-boo curtain draped in front of it. The nylon panties showed her dark little bush patch up to tremendous advantage. "Let's put a ribbon in that hair," she said holding the child's huge mass of curls back into a pony tail. She grabbed a red ribbon and worked it into her child's willful head of hair.
When they came into the living room again, Mr. Gustafson was sitting on the sofa very naked and very ready for action.
"Well," he said, putting his giant's hand on his huge crotch mound. It could barely cover him and he was soft. "Don't you look great? Come on over and give your uncle a kiss."
Lorna swallowed hard and advanced toward the man. She saw the man's monster whang resting in on its huge globes. He was a light skinned man and his dick looked like an unbaked loaf of bread.
"Put your hand on it, Doll," he said, bouncing the girl on his knee. "Touch my big pecker."
The girl stretched out all her fingers and brought them down lightly on the man's outsized prick. It felt warm to the touch and she knew it was going to stretch itself in a few minutes. Stretch itself out and up. No telling where the thing might stop once it got started either. She had seen a few pricks before. Once, even watched her mother suck one. But this was different. This was huge and threatening. She sensed instinctively not to do anything the man didn't want her to do. She knew she shouldn't make him cross under any circumstances.
"Oooooh," the man let out between his lips, "you're making me hurt, Honey. Just run that baby soft hand of yours up and down my rod. That's it. Spit on me, go on. I don't usually give people permission to spit on me, but you're special."
Lorna let a long, slow dribble out of her mouth and watched as it oozed down onto the man's fast-rising loaf of bread. She rubbed it in with her hands as she felt the man reach up under her nightie.
"Got a solid little pair of knockers on her, Eva," the man said, cupping his hands around them. He began to twirl her nipples around with his huge, hard fingers making Lorna feel a little strange.
She noticed it right away, actually. When she had first walked into the room with her mom. It had started down somewhere at the base of her tummy. Maybe it was high up between her legs. It began as an uncomfortable twitchy feeling, then turned into a nice, warm, cozy one. She liked it, but she couldn't figure what it had to do with this stranger. How was he involved?
"Stroke it a little harder," she heard her mother say to her, "he-likes it harder."
"I like it the way she's doing it just fine," the man said, spreading his legs and savoring the feeling of those small, untried fingers making their way along his cock shaft.
"Now, I want you to put those tiny pink lips down on me and suck me," the man said.
Lorna looked at her mother and saw her nodding. She let herself slip down between the man's knees onto the floor. She felt lost and small between those giant beefy legs of his. She looked up and dead into the cock slit of the man's throbbing dick. She wondered if she was supposed to get her tongue in there.
"Watch me," Eva said, sliding down to the floor and taking the man's prick in her expert hands. "I'll show you how to start."
"Just what I always wanted," the man said, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "two at once."
What he always wanted, Eva thought to herself. She knew for a fact he had had it several times and stayed for round two. Sometimes sticking it into three, four different mouths and cunts in one sitting. The man was a known cocksman. But, then, he always paid for it.
Lorna watched her mother bring the man's round cock top to her lips. She made tiny, almost imperceptible kissing movements with her firm, muscular lips as she fish-mouthed him. Then she slid her long tongue out and teasingly encircled his mammoth dome as far down as the rim of his head. She slid it around and around, making wide tongue circles one way, then around the other way.
"Your mom's somebody to learn from, Lorna," Gus said, feeling his cock rise to the occasion of the practiced sucking he was beginning to get.
Eva opened her mouth wide enough to admit the man's whole huge cock pole into its vast cavern. She tightened up on his shaft when she got down that far and again made little vibrations with her lips and tongue as she descended ever downward. She got as far as the shaft, with her sheer knowledge of how to deep throat an immense prick like this man had, and held it there a moment. Then she slithered off it quickly, knowing what a rush she would give to the man by doing so. She wanted him hard and she wanted him to come as quickly as she could get him to. She didn't want her daughter to choke on him longer than was necessary.
"You think you can keep up with that?" the man said, bringing his leg over her mother's head and setting it down between the two women. "I'm gonna give you a chance, right now."
He grabbed on to his big meat with both fingers and aimed the huge rod at Lorna's face. She had seen her mom do it, she hoped she could do as well.
"Go on, Lorna," her mother whispered, "suck his cock. You can do it."
She tried to reach all the way around the man's shaft, but it was hopeless with one hand. She tried with both and made it with no room to spare. She waved it back and forth a little, rocking it like a flag pole before she let it find its natural center.
Kinda fun to play with this, she thought to herself. like a game.
She looked at the man's insanely enormous gear shift once more before mounting it with her tiny mouth. Then she leaned over far enough to stick her tongue out and repeat her mother's actions on the man's wide, round prick head.
"Say now," the man said down to her in big, heavy breaths, "I think you might have some talent there, little girl."
He let go of his schlong and gave it over completely to the girl at his feet. Why not? She had had a good teacher. Eva Stucilli was the best little hooker he knew in town. She was so fucking hot and sexy. Those rosy pink-tipped knockers and that hot, savage mouth of hers. That tight, twitchy little cunt slit he loved to burrow his ramrod into. She could take it five rounds and come back for more. Little nympho. He hoped her daughter would show as much promise. And it looked like she might judging from what was happening right now.
Lorna let her tongue ease up the man's wet cock shaft. She had to control it so that it didn't slide up too fast. The path was slippery going. She brought her hands up high to explore those fleshy globe balls of his. They were every bit as fun to play with. Bouncy and springy, but as she sucked more and let her tongue dart out and around the big prick stick, the balls grew firmer, tighter, harder.
"Good," the man proclaimed. "That's just fine, little girl." He leaned over and massaged the girl's tits again. They were a couple of fine specimens of what hot, teenage tit should feel like. Tough little hard knockers, too.
"Gimma something to put in my face, Eva, Baby," he ordered, yanking her off the carpet where she had been watching Lorna to be sure the girl got off on the right footing. "I'm just dying to suck pussy right now. OOOoooooh, that's starting to hurt."
Lorna felt the man's big fuck stick stiffen up harder under the jabbing and licking motions of her tiny, pink eager little mouth. She sucked it harder and longer so as not to annoy him. She didn't want to choke on that thing. And she knew she would if he got mad and stuck it down her throat. Her eyes were watering as it was.
She watched as her mother stood up on the cushions of the sofa and pulled her panties down. She could look up and see her mother's perfectly shaped domed buttocks shining in the dim afternoon light of the living room. They were a perfectly hot, tight little pair of buns. She wondered what her mother was going to do. She sucked harder and higher up onto the cock lever.
"Come right up here and sit on my face, Hot Stuff," the man ordered.
Eva knew than to try to persuade him differently. She put her hands on the back of her high, round butt mounds and thrust herself up into his eager, wet mouth. She humped his tongue hard as it came up inside her pussy slit and rolled all around inside her pink, gyrating cunt hole.
Then she climbed up onto his shoulders, spreading her legs far apart and gripping the back of the couch for support. She let her legs sag out and she took the man's tongue deep up into her hole. It certainly knew which way to go. It certainly knew how to get her juices flowing like spring melt off.
Lorna gripped the wildly waving schlong and tongued it as hard as her little round wet log could ram it. She fought the sensation that was creeping between her legs and steaming up through her little panties. It kept coming. The man's pecker was acting like a compass needle magnetized to point north. It just stayed right up there prodding her back every time she prodded it. Warm and slimy hot roll inside her mouth. Warm and slimy tongue rolling back over it. The exchange of cock against tongue made her wetter in her cunt hole and she knew she would have to do something to make the twitching stop soon or she was going to rise right up off the floor and hit the ceiling.
"Oh, put that tongue up me," the woman cried, slobbering her own tongue into Gus's ear and ramming it in. "Fuck me with your big, wet tongue pole."
Lorna could see her mother's thrusting hot honey buns as she rammed and crammed her heaving pussy lips onto his own thick and pumping mouth lips. The sight aroused her still harder.
Gus Gustafson felt his big dick being taken into that tiny wet and round hole of the child's mouth. So tight, he thought to himself, so completely air tight. I won't have room to shoot. I'll have to stick my wick up into Eva's mouth and shoot it in there. He smiled to himself to think of the sight of mother and daughter lapping up his come cream. The child's sucking was playing a delicious stroking tattoo on his big wand. It made him twitch and thrust his hips up hard and out of control. And that was how he liked it.
Lorna reached her hand down to the elastic and pulled it anxiously away from her waist. She slipped her finger down and stroked the fuzzy, downy moss bed the clung to her chubby cunt lips. Then she circled her own cunt with her fingers, the way she saw her mother do it with her tongue on the man's cock. She wondered if the sensation was the same. Hers was tantalizing and hot. She felt sex charge through every nerve and leap every synapse in a shudder of excitation and electricity. She rammed two fingers up her eager young twat and pumped herself hard. She sucked harder in tandem and felt Mr. Gustafson jerk spontaneously as she continued the licking, flicking and sucking motions. She knew she was good. She knew that he knew she was, too.
Gus felt himself give over still more to the little girl's suck machine of a mouth. For something so tiny, it sure knew what to do. He reached up and steered Eva's big thick tits as he clenched himself and prepared for climax. He knew it wasn't long off. He rammed his pecker hard down the tight, gripping slimy little mouth hole. The sensations were surrounding him everywhere. They were closing in on him. He felt his whole body turn into one huge orgasm and he buried his tongue still deeper up the seething, wrenching pussy tunnel.
Lorna felt the man's balls with her free hand and they were as hard as cement chunks. She felt his whole body stiffen up hard and felt his ass cheeks actually leave the sofa. Then she felt him lift his whole long shaft out of her mouth. He slid his long, spit-stained rod right out from her sucking place and she saw the cock slit now clogged with a white mass of come cream.
She felt her body quake and rock as the thing was torn out of her mouth. Then she watched and diddled herself harder as the man quickly thrust her mother off his shoulders and smacked her down hard against his knees.
"Suck me, Bitch," he shouted savagely, "suck my cock, it's come. I'm coming. Oh, Jesus, suck my dick, suck it. Suck my come in your mouth."
Lorna saw her mother's head dive down onto the man's exploding cock gun. She saw her bury her head in his lap and heard the slurping and chugging sounds of the woman as she gobbled up the man's come load. She ate every last ounce of his thick, milky spunk and lapped hard at the head of still rigid prick stick.
"Eat it," the man shouted, "eat my come, Bitch, that's good. Take it all down that satin pink throat of yours. That's right. Swallow it good. Eat my come. Suck that cream. Go on."
Eva Stucilli wound her head every which way and swallowed the man load of the big prick. She ate all the milky liquid juice jism the man spilled out and took it back into her throat. She felt the quenching and refreshing massage as it oozed down her gullet. She gulped hard and brought herself up to a seated position and continued to play with the man's big dick in her hand.
"Delicious," she said, rubbing the still rock cock. "I know," the man said, reaching down and pulling Lorna up off the floor. "And thanks to this little sucker here, it was one of the best comes I've had. One of the very best."
CHAPTER FIVE
Luanne Runsvold flicked one long braid over her shoulder and bent over to wipe the table off. The big trucker sitting in front of her grunted her a hello and pulled his menu up over his face.
It had been a busy lunch hour. Things were really active. It seemed like every trucker in the tri-state area had parked his rig out front and strolled through that door in the last hour.
Things were better now that there was an extra hand. Lorna had only been working two weeks but she felt like she had known her a much longer time. Good lady, she was. Never asked too many questions. Not that Luanne had anything to hide. She did seem a little surprised when she told her her boyfriend was named Hank Gilroy, and that he was a mechanic in Fall City. But later, she had learned why. From Hank himself. He told her that Sheriff Hanratty had arrested her for soliciting his wife, but hell, that had to be a lie. Everybody knew that Maria Hanratty didn't need soliciting. She was always the first one to make the move in any situation. Least as far as coming on to somebody was concerned. She had mooched up to Luanne one night after a sock hop. Fortunately Hank intervened and nothing had happened.
The day Sheriff Wes had shown up at Edith's diner was quite entertaining, though, and she chuckled a little when she thought back on it. Lorna had insisted on serving him, even though he was sitting at Edith's station.
He was sure surprised to see her there, too. Damn near dropped his water glass.
"Sheriff Wes!" the dark-haired sexpot had said, sweeping grandly up to his table and thrusting a menu out at him. "How's it going? Little woman treating you right?"
He sure had barked a blue streak at Edith when he got her cornered after picking himself up out of his seat and walking toward her in a daze.
"I can hire anybody I want when I want to," the red-haired woman shot back at him. Edith didn't take no guff off no man she ever saw. "Long as they ain't got typhoid. Go on over and have your dinner, now Wes. Why don't you try the pork chop special. It's hot and cheap. like you like it."
The Sheriffs coffee must have gone down real bitter that day. He looked pretty sour as he wolfed down his dinner. He grumbled something about "downright unfair" before he grabbed a handful of toothpicks and pushed the door open.
"Cheer up," Edith said to Lorna as they watched him go. "Maybe one of those toothpicks will poke right through that cheap pair of pants of his and stab him right in the dick."
Then the two of them laughed so hard they ended up running water in the ladies' room to drown out the noise. The two of them giggled a lot. And sometimes, when Edith took a rare afternoon off, the two of them would go to the movies or go shopping in Pickford. Lorna would not go into Fall City. And when Luanne found out that she had been run out of
Grunion County, she understood why.
The woman was definitely a knockout. She made the little diner look like a Hollywood movie set. The truckers came round more often. There had always been Edith's old reliables, and some of the younger guys dug her, she could tell. But there was Hank. He was insanely jealous of her. And she loved it.
"What'll it be?" she said to the burly hunk in the white western shirt and wide-brimmed hat. He had been driving a long time, Luanne could tell from the sun burn on his window side arm.
"Anything you. say, Shrimp Boat," the big man said in his booming base voice. "I wouldn't mind taking orders from you at all."
Luanne smiled and took out her pencil. "Try the pork chops. They're cheap and hot. Just like you'd like 'em."
Lorna moved through the narrow passage between the crowded tables and shoved one curvaceous hip hard against the "In" door.
Life hadn't been so bad here at this crossroads of confusion known as Edith and Joe's. She had never waited a table in her life. As close as she'd come to working in a restaurant was the night she blew Ron Lescombio under the table at The Four Cavaliers. Got a sizable tip, too. The tips here weren't that big, but most men had been appreciative. And then there were those who would take her out back or out front or to the big motel up on the overpass and blow, suck, fuck or diddle with her for a reasonable, if not lavish sum.
The strangest thing, not that tricking with truckers was so odd. But Edith. Edith seemed to have a damn good idea what she was doing. Often asked how so and so was. Did he tip her good. Was he cheap? And once she even asked how the rooms were at the Fast Lane Motel, where she had gone a few times. But she never tricked. Lorna figured the odds were good that Edith had been a working girl at one time. But then, she wasn't the type to ask questions, especially personal ones.
"How you making out?" that was as close as Edith ever got with the personal stuff. And that suited Lorna fine.
The hour was getting late. From now till breakfast, which started at six o'clock, truckers would just drift in by ones mostly, sometimes twos and threes, if they drove in a team .The tips would be steady, but things might pick up if she picked up a trick. That could happen any time.
She eyed the occupied seats of the diner and didn't find anything too promising. But the next moment the door swung open and she changed her mind.
Two guys walked in, straight as pokers with big, muscular chests and arms and slender waists to better set them off. Their jeans were really tight, too, both of them. The only thing that distinguished them was the difference in their ages. One was young with blonde hair the corn silk color. The other had steely gray hair and a leathery, handsome face. He had seen a lot of miles. And he looked and talked every inch like a trucker. Probably an independent. They were definitely the toughest breed of guy to come by here.
"Made up your mind yet?" she said, leaning one hand on the formica and pursing in her lips. She had been leaning over just far enough to let the younger one look down the open front of her uniform.
"If we see anything better than you look on the menu, we'll jump right to it," the older one said. He had teeth like pearls and a throaty, rugged voice. She couldn't decide who was cuter. Hmmmmmm.
"You weren't here the last time me and Pa was," the younger man said. "Was you?"
So that was it. Father and son. Son and father. Which would she pick? Which would pick her? The possibilities were exciting.
"I've only been here two weeks," she said, sliding her pencil out of her hair. "How long you been driving?"
"Pa's been on the road over twenty years. Got three of his own rigs now. We got us a long haul clean to Oregon, so the two of us are traveling together." The young guy hooked his fingers into his jeans loops and winked at her seductively.
"Too bad we couldn't stay in this burg longer, though. I didn't know they had such nice locals around here," he reached for his glass of water and took one man-size gulp after another.
"Don't mind Boxer," the older man said, elbowing his son in the ribs, "he ain't seen nothing but roadside trash till we came in here and I think he don't know how far his tongue is hanging out."
Lorna took their orders and brought them back to the table within a few minutes. She set them down and looked up at both men. Which? She just couldn't make up her mind. The possibilities intrigued her to no end. She'd have to make up her mind in a few minutes. The way they were eating, it wouldn't take them long to get back to the lot and start up the engine.
Twenty minutes later, Lorna got into the truck cab with Boxer right behind her. Pa got in from the driver's side.
"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, "I think the two of you are going to be quite a handful."
"We'll sure try," Boxer laughed and pulled his hat off. He tossed it up behind a little curtain and Lorna got the distinct impression there was a bed up there.
"Where do you want us, you Sexy Fox you," Pa said, eyeing her seductively.
He was the best damned looking gray-haired man she had seen off the silver screen. And he was built slightly better than his son. His muscles rippled under the parking lot lights when he took his shirt off. His tanned flesh against his white T-shirt gave her a wild, luscious little chill.
"I bet you got facets under that uniform," Boxer said, stroking her under the chin like a lap cat, "I bet you got facets a diamond cutter ain't seen."
"I think it's time I proved it," Lorna said, guiding her uniform buttons out of their holes. Thank God, she had made enough money to finally buy a bra. It had been embarrassing explaining to the truckers why she had to tape her tits together. It had also been good for a little extra sympathy cash from some of them. But enough of poverty.
"That is just dandy," Pa said as Lorna slid one perfectly formed tit knob out over her deeply plunging push-up bra.
"So's this," Boxer echoed as she slid the other one out.
Both men took a tit into their mouths and sucked her like champs. It was really nice to have her tits sucked. And so expertly for a change.
"Happy to get a chance to feel you so near," Lorna bubbled, arching her back and letting the truckers in for their licks.
"How about we hog-tie this wench and throw in the back seat for later?" Boxer said, in between slurps.
"Is that any way to treat a lady?" Pa said, feeling his whang thundering hard against his zipper teeth. The woman was turning him on and she was turning him on fast.
"This feels like more," Lorna said, unbuttoning herself further.
Boxer and his father helped her out of her uniform and took turns slobbering all over her lustrous pussy patch. She didn't even have time to take her garter belt off. She had taken the precaution of not wearing any panties. They had proven to be excess baggage in her current line of workcurb service.
"How do you guys like it?" Lorna said, grabbing herself two curly full heads of healthy hair with each hand and rubbing them hard. She certainly felt like she could take on two tonight. Maybe three. But then she hadn't done that for a while.
"Boxer-likes it any way he can get it," the gray-haired man said, "by the way, Sweet Stuff," he said, between tongue licks on her hot thighs and silky moist bush, "call me Steely. That's my handle."
By now Lorna knew what a handle was. It was the CB name somebody was known by.
She had picked up quite a bit of CB lingo in the two weeks she had worked at Edith's. It seemed to be pretty important to those truckers, and Lorna could guess why. There had been enough lonely nights for her in that little diner, let alone how she would have felt out on the highway. At least, with a CB, you were never alone.
"What's yours?" Boxer said, stroking her cunt and drooling over it.
"My what?" she said, wondering what he was referring to.
"Your CB handle, Sweet Stuff," Steely said, pile driving his fingers up her cunt. Nice to have two such powerful and capable sets of hands laid on you at the same time.
"Don't have one, I guess," she felt the warm pole fingers of Steeley's hand inching and stroking her cunt from the inside. It felt very comforting. Not to mention sexy as hell.
"Well, I got one for you," Boxer said, "no, I think maybe I'll wait till I see what you can do before I give you one."
Lorna knew that in that case it was bound to be a good one. Nobody had ever complained about her ability to take care of men, or women, or two at once, or two stallions in heat, if that happened to be on the program.
"How about one of you two highwaymen disengaging your jeans and letting me see how long distance truckers are hung. I've always been curious about that."
Boxer assured her they were hung very well by pulling his zipper down and going in for his big, wide man pole. It looked like a whole cob of sweet corn sticking up out of his pants. He slipped the jeans down over his knees and kicked them onto the floor boards. Then he fingered his prick hard and Lorna saw the corn cob grow into a small silo.
"Far out," she said, shaking her head and wondering how much bigger it was going to get.
Steely managed to pull his fingers out of her slippery cunt hole long enough to yank his gold zipper down and get his man load up front. It looked not unlike his son's cock, but possibly, if such a thing were possible, bigger.
"I think I'd like to try you both on for size," the woman said, grinning a lascivious grin and sneaking her hands up and around the two huge pricks pulsating on either side of her.
Steely brought his pants down low over his knees and stepped on them eagerly to get rid of them.
Lorna took one rod in her left hand and one in her right. Twin stick shifts, she thought to herself. And one thing's for sure, neither of them has a reverse gear.
She felt the gigantic cock pole knobs with the smooth tender pads of her left and right fingers simultaneously. They were both spongy and electric to the touch. She could feel little drops of pre-cum on each of them, building up to a nice sticky goo as she circled each side of her slowly and calmly.
"That feels like something I could get used to awful easy," Boxer said, feeling the pit of his stomach roll a little toward his groin.
"Thanks," Lorna said, bringing her circular motions to the opposite route and winding her fingers around them again. It felt so good getting these cock poles up to a stiff position. They were starting to glisten a little in the electric light.
"You guys think you can stand a little standing up while I double your pleasure?"
Both men nodded eagerly and brought themselves up to a slant leaning against the back seat of the truck cab. They shoved their meat sticks in the direction of Lorna's mouth as she adjusted herself on the seat so that she could hold one of them and take the other into her wet mouth hole at the same time.
Lucky I got strong arm muscles, Boxer thought to himself, otherwise I'd never be able to stand the strain.
Shit I'm glad I'm in fighting shape, Steely thought, pushing his thick, burly arms against the back of the seat. Otherwise, I couldn't take the pressure.
"I hope you two are gonna enjoy this as much as I am," Lorna said, looking at the two huge waving dick poles each within a foot of her mouth.
She grabbed Steely's long third leg first and popped his wide knob into her mouth. It glided up easily due to all the pre-cum that had formed in the cock slit when she had been fingering him. She sank her head right down on him and figuring it best not to tease too much, being as how she had double duty to perform here, got right down to business. Sucking that big man's cock was fun. She could feel his response through the thick veins of dick shaft. They were absolutely dancing around inside her mouth. His schlong was vibrating hard against the soft palette of her throat. Wanging against it. Beating right down on it.
"Suck that rod," Steely bellowed, "Baby, I know you know how."
She popped his cock out of-her mouth and replaced it with her eager, practiced hand. It slipped up, up and away over the top of his dick dome and back down again to the hilt.
Boxer was next. His dick proved to be no less excited to her touch, her mouth touch. She wagged her tongue all around the giant mushroom cap of his cock head and slurped it right down onto his pulsating shaft. She let her throat cover up the whole wet slippery log and went down hard on it. She sucked in little quick bellows motions at the throbbing ramrod and then slowly built up the size of the suctions till they came and went like respirator rounds.
"I can't take much of this!" Boxer shouted, thrusting his hips down hard onto Lorna's sucking mouth, "but I sure want to!"
Lorna skewered her mouth back off of Boxer and began her trusty hand to hand combat movements on his gyrating cock shaft. Hand to cock movements, actually.
She felt her pussy getting so moist down there, she was glad for the comfort of a friendly hand shoved up her wet, quivering cunt hole to ease the loneliness.
"Feels like more," she said between sucks.
"Fine by me," Boxer said, feeling his arms growing tired, even as strong as they were. They hadn't taken the kind of punishment leaning on them and getting his cock sucked so smartly deserved.
"I got us a suggestion," Steely said, feeling his hard whang insist that he come up with something, and come up with it fast.
"Sure," Lorna said, not even hearing it, but figuring that at this stage of her arousal anything would sound good.
"Why don't you just sit where you are, Honey, spread those milky tight thighs of yours out a bit and let Boxer here plug you with his dick while I stick mine up your pussy. I got a yen for doing it the old-fashioned way, know what I mean."
Boxer grabbed his dick and shook it hard. It felt like a coiled up snake about to strike and he wanted to hold on as long as he could. Sticking it back into this little sweetie's mouth and having her all to himself up there sounded like a square acre of heaven to him right now.
Lorna parted her thighs and felt the older man's hand going around her waist, and she felt a drop of pre-cum touch her thigh and his big dick knob right after it. She winced as he parted her cunt lips with his huge semi-diesel cock and flashed her tits up at him like two hot, horny headlights. The tight thrust of his huge pecker sinking into her hole drove her tight, hot buns right up off the upholstery.
"Holy s-shit!" she let out as he came into position. "You screw like a ratchet on speed."
The man was driving his pecker wood in so fast and furious she was afraid of a collision. She felt each inch of his big rod stick bury itself further and further up into her wet, willing pussy parts.
"Well, Road Hog," she winked at the younger boy, "You gonna come down here and get what you came for?"
The younger boy had to stand up on the seat and put both his hands on her shoulders to manipulate himself into position. Then he stuck his cock square into her mouth socket. Rocket to socket. Felt like home. He worked his cock shaft in and out her wet, wicked mouth hole. God, she was doing a job on him all right.
"Don't stop," was all he could say as he pushed further and deeper into the tight wet dark tunnel.
"Shit, you feel good," Steely said, plugging her cunt hole up" and down with his legs pushed against the floorboards for brakes. He dialed her tit nipples around like radio knobs. He plugged his pecker hard into her gripping cunt hole. He couldn't tell how much longer he had, but he calculated it couldn't be much longer. He felt like his whole body was one huge, pounding drumbeat. And his cock was calling the rhythm. In and out. In and out. He sank his dick pole down harder and pumped the gripping suctioning pussy in tight, heavy little thrusts. Then he rammed it in deep and pulled it slowly back out. Plunging it in again and again.
Boxer held his back firmly braced against the roof of the cab. The sights, the sounds, the sights. They were making his head spin like a tilt-o-whirl. His old man's cock, like that of a young stud, humping and fucking the twitching, teasing little cunt hole. So black and shiny under the lights.
"Suck it," he said, sniffing the air and smelling sex enfold around him like morning mist on the open road, "suck my dick, Truck Stop Slut," he roared, "suck that sweet hot rod dick. You little cocksucker, you little tart."
Lorna felt the constriction of her pussy tighten in for all it was worth around Steely's massive May pole. It slid up and down on his giant rod as though it had been goose-greased for the occasion. She knew though, that it was wet because she, too was wet. And excited. The taste of Boxer's big surrendering flag pole in her mouth heightened her sensations. It tasted so bitter and sweet and salty and sweaty and spicy. A different flavor for every inch. A new sensation with each thrust. God, she felt hot. Hot and horny and wild. So fucking wild, she was about to spill her come. She was close to letting go her load. She was, in fact, only moments away.
"Gonna rip," Boxer shouted first. He felt his lightning rod shooting sparks and then explode completely. His cock thrust forward, forward without brakes, without gears, without a driver's license. It just charged ahead and rolled right down to the eager woman's tonsils. He felt his load spill out his cock hole. He felt his spunk come hurdling out his prick slit. It spewed out and down the woman's mouth cunt. It spewed over her tonsils and stuck to her throat. She gulped at it, trying to catch each sweet, moist drop of succulent man come.
"Christ I can feel it going off," Steely roared. "I'm coming, oh yeah, I am. Now. Coming right now."
He winced and let go his load of spunk, his basketful of hot, wet jism come. It sprayed up onto the walls of Lorna's wringer cunt. It spilled onto the walls squirted out the hole itself. It oozed and it squirted and it covered every inch of her pussy walls. He shot his big, trucker load all over her insides.
"Finally!" Lorna called out as she felt Steely go off inside her. "Wow!" she let out as she lost control of her jerking spasms and let loose her own load of orgiastic come. She let go her spunk in a heaving, sobbing, wrenching torrent of vibrations. Then she let go and felt her own come blend into Steely's delicious goo come. Clear come and gooey stuff combined. Man come and woman come. Clear spunk and milky jism. Together again. Mixed up and mingling. And oozing. Oozing clean out her pussy hole. And all down her cream-covered thighs.
"Tastes like butter," Steely said, scooping some of their combined love juices and sticking it in his dry, heaving mouth, "tastes like sweet butter."
"Little tart," Boxer said, shaking his head and his dick out at the same time. "Hot little butter tart, you are." He grinned hard and licked a little at her sweaty ear. It tasted sweet, too. "That's it!, " he shouted, sliding onto the seat next to her. That's your CB handle. Butter Tart!"
"You like it?" Steely smiled back at her as he brought himself to the seat opposite his son, "I got a whole book you can pick from if you don't."
"No," Lorna said, smiling from ear to ear and feeling the warm come on her thighs slowly turn cooler. "I like it. I like it fine."
CHAPTER SIX
"Course," Sheriff Heithaus said in his slow, ambling Midwestern way, "you can borrow mine if you like."
Lorna shook her head. Her old independence had made a quick enough recovery after that first night when Edith let her have her bed in the back of the kitchen.
"Don't want to put you out, Sheriff," she said, "I'll buy my own CB and let you use mine, though. How's that?"
The two were sitting at the counter chatting over coffee. It was late at night and the weather had taken a little snap for the colder. The windows of the diner were covered with steam and the warmth from the kitchen felt very good every time Lorna pushed the door open.
"You're one classy little act, ya know that?" the Sheriff smiled and picked his teeth with the cover of his match box. "I'll bet you whipped up those yummy salmon croquettes, too, didn't you?"
"Me?" she replied, leaning back in total innocence, "I can't cook worth a damn." She leaned in on him and put her long, sculpted fingernails lightly into his thigh, "Few other things I do rather well, though."
Sheriff Heithaus could just imagine. He'd had his eye on her since the first morning he'd walked in here and found her drawing a cup of coffee from the stainless steel coffee machine.
"No doubt," he said, swiveling a little toward her on his seat, allowing her nails to sink in a deeper. He felt mildly, wickedly amused and a little aroused by her attentions. He knew he was no good looker, like herself. So what the hell was she playing around with him for? Who the hell cared, though, really. If it felt this good to be fussed over, why not?
Lorna grinned and snapped one lewd eye shut in his direction. She wanted that man to notice her all right. He was sheriff of Belzer County. Just the man who would figure into her little scheme to wreck revenge on Sheriff Hanratty. And, as luck would have it, he was playing right into her hands.
"How come you never come around when I get off work?" she said, sticking her tits full front in his line of vision. He couldn't miss these signals, she figured.
"Didn't know you ever had any free time," the man said. He knew she was turning into the most popular little piece along the interstate. Lots of drivers were making Edith and Joe's their special stop, now that she had become known. And many a late night jockey driving to Frisco had tuned in his CB to hear her charms praised along with Edith's stuffed pork chops.
"I'd make you some," she countered, nudging his elbow. "You're worth it."
Sheriff Bill Heithaus knew he was worth it. He was a big man in Belzer County. But he just wasn't much to look at. Tall and skinny with coarse stringy hair and one bad leg. Girls never came around much. He just hadn't been lucky that way. Now here was this winsome little piece of lemon meringue pie batting her eyelashes at him. How come, he wondered.
How come me?
"Come on," Lorna said, if you got a minute now, "I'd like to see your CB. I figure if I'm gonna get one of these things, I'd better learn how to use it."
Sheriff Heithaus reached for his hand held receiver on the counter and hooked it onto his back pocket. Well, maybe, he thought to himself, unable to remember when the last time he had chatted socially with a woman. Especially one this luscious. Course, there was Mrs. Pridough, his landlady. But she was seventy-three years old.
Lorna rubbed hard against the man's shoulder as she reached for his empty coffee cup and desert dish. How much signaling was she going to have to before she flagged him down?
"You got a few minutes?" he said, finally finding the courage to ask, "I don't know if you've ever seen a patrol car before, but they are kinda interesting."
As a matter-of-fact, Lorna had seen one. Inside and out. The night Sheriff Hanratty hornswoggled her into getting it on with his wife under pain of death, not to mention once or twice in the Windy City. Fortunately, none of her arrests ever saw conviction. It sure did pay to know John Law personally.
"Lemme check," she said, wiggling her hips through the "In" door and bumping into Edith.
"I'm gonna pay a neighborly call to our friend Sheriff Bill," she said, setting the crockery down on the sink board and calling to Edith.
"Now that is friendly of you," the woman answered from behind the white curtain, "can't be too nice to the men who wear the star, can we?"
She pulled the curtain back and emerged smiling as she headed toward the sink. "But don't forget to tell Lois you'll be gone for a few minutes. I'm stepping out myself for a while and she gets real nervous if she don't know where you are. And besides, customers ask about you if they walk in here and don't see you."
Lois was the cashier. She was a cute girl, but very shy. She and Luanne were friends from college. Lorna had a hard time keeping her eyes on her check book when Lois walked by. She had the daintiest, poutiest little set of school girl knockers on her. And she was a raven-haired gal, too. Lorna liked that. She could have been related to her. They had identical coloring.
"I'll be back before you will," Lorna said, checking her hair in the mirror. Sheriff Bill wasn't much to look at all right, but she needed that CB. And she needed some hot, sweet tasty revenge as well.
Edith grabbed her jacket off the wall hook and threw it over her shoulders. Business had indeed picked up since Lorna got here. And it cost her next to nothing. That was the juicy part. The girl was costing her peanuts and she was doing an advertising campaign on the place a New York ad agency would blush over. Truckers she hadn't seen since she was a girl were pulling their rigs in here regularly. Yes, it paid to advertise. Turnover was good enough now that she might even have a new sign put up. Take Joe's name off. "Edith and . ... " Who? Should be Edith and Lorna's by rights. But that sounded too obvious. Maybe "Edith's Fun House."
"Get her cleaned once a day," the Sheriff said showing Lorna his shiny white and blue patrol car. "And waxed. I guess you could say it's like a kid."
She noted that he was, indeed, proud of his car. If only he hadn't been such a hayseed, he would have attracted some woman or another around the county, gotten married, had kids of his own. Instead, he had adopted this car with its long, low lines, its glittering hub caps and sterile white side walls and that whirling cherry red light on top. She could hear him from within now, hooking his hand held back up to the dash.
"Come on in, Lorna," the man offered generously. "I want you to see this upholstery job.
Sure enough, it was real simulated Carpathian burnished wedge wood with silver metallic threads running through it. Lorna tried hard to look impressed while she wondered what the sheriff got off on sexually. He looked like a man of meat and potatoes tastes, but you could never tell.
"Had this CB a long time," he said, patting the big radio under the dash. His whole car interior was rigged with wires, speakers, amps, pre-amps, tape decks, receivers, and mikes. It looked like the inside of a sound studio. "Sure come in handy on those lonely nights when I was a little old deputy out patrolling some lonely cornfield."
"Much happen in Belzer County?" Lorna said, lying back in the seat and staring at the gold glitter in the ceiling upholstery. "I mean much that the law has to jump in and settle?"
"No, not much. Occasionally somebody's prize cow takes a notion to run out on the highway and splatter himself to death under the wheels of some oncoming car. Or, somebody goes off and gets himself a gun and starts acting the big shot. Of course, there is the occasional family squabble that gets out of hand, beatings, a few robberies. I guess most of my time is just patrolling around to see that people walk on the right side of the road and don't litter."
Lorna nodded and felt a little sad for some reason. She sighed and hoped it would pass. "You a sexy man?" She said finally, figuring she might as well try the head on approach. Tunnels and cloverleaves never were her. "I think I am," the tall skinny man said, hoping he could live up to it if called on to do so. He also felt his pecker wood start to make for his boot.
"Whatever that is, huh?" Lorna said, feeling at peace with this quiet, tall guy. He reminded of her of some Western cowboy or another. One she had seen in a movie once. Quiet, shy, he-manish. But decent, damn decent. She hoped he wouldn't be too decent.
"Bill," she said, bringing her hand over to the top of his head. She tried to relax as she continued, "you make much money being the sheriff?"
"It's a living," the man said, sternly as ever.
"I don't do too well slinging hash, myself," she said, twirling a few strands of his coarse hair around in her fingers. She hoped at least he would be clean. And she thought she could tell by the looks of impeccably white collar that he was. "Money's pretty tight and truckers aren't big spenders. I mean, the tips are fair, but nothing I could go to Europe on. Know what I mean?"
"You want money, Doll?" he said, his eyes dead front and unyielding.
Christ, he was even more direct than she was.
"I do," she said back to him just as directly. "Don't like to let people know how bad things are, but I guess it's no secret I'm on my way to California. And I don't intend to go by stagecoach. I couldn't stand the bus ride. I'm not built for it."
"I'll say you're not," Bill said, barely flinching a muscle. "But if you need money, just let me know how much."
"Depends," Lorna said, trying not to sound too coy.
"On what I want for it?" the man said. He still hadn't taken his eyes off the front windshield. Well, Lorna thought, at least he has been around a little. She would have to be careful with whatever she said next. Nice guy he may be, but still, her thoughts of tactical maneuvers were interrupted.
"Can't do that, Sugar Top," he said, looking at her for the first time since she'd begun playing with his hair.
"Oh," Lorna said, finding the strength in her fingers to pursue her activity. She brought her hands down to his chest, and massaged his shoulders, touching him in those special places she knew would arouse him.
"I can't give you money for sex, that would be against the law. So I'm glad you didn't ask me, cause that would be against the law, too." He brought one long booted foot up and let it rest on the dash board.
Lorna's heart sank into her penny loafers. She would have to find another protector. And another man to help her get back at Sheriff Wes.
"But I could give you a present," the man said, sucking on a tooth and feeling his dick edge ever downward. It was really starting to cramp now.
"Oh?" she said, with renewed interest.
"How'd you like a class A Rolls Royce stereo CB radio with all the trimmings?" He grinned a little and adjusted his cock in his pants. It was smarting all right.
"Save me buying one," Lorna said, laughing out loud. She couldn't think of a better pact between them. Especially, if there was to be no money involved.
"You're a nice kid, Lorna." the sheriff said, turning to her and bringing his hand to the back of the seat. "I hope you don't mind if I'm a little shy. It hurts to say it, but I been without a woman for too long a time. I get a little uneasy just thinking about that."
"Shy men happen to be a particular favorite of mine," Lorna said, feeling a little grateful and liking the feel of the man's straw thatched head more and more. His chest hair felt good, too.
Sheriff Bill nodded and brought his hand down to Lorna's shoulder. He knew she might be bluffing him. He knew her whole number might be bluff. Ordinarily, that would bother him too much to go through with it. But looking at those high, rounded tit tips pressing against her uniform and the way they rose and fell with each honeysuckle breath she took, feeling the sublime curve of her shoulder under his firm hand, and catching a little glimpse of those long, silky model's legs each time a car light shone past them, well, those things just added to up to a big "so what?"
And he knew a little about her, too. No law man worth his salt would let her slip by unnoticed. She had come into the county less than a month ago. Had been chased out of Grunion by the sheriff over there. Came to work at Edith's. Nobody knew much about her. Stayed a while. And now Edith's business was booming. So he had done a little investigating himself. He had a pretty damn good idea she was blowing those truckers behind their steering wheels between taking orders for French toast and cocoa. And tonight's little conversation proved it. So she was a slut. So what? Right now, with his cock wagging like the tail of a mad dog, he couldn't be bothered passing judgment. And the thought of those big truckers getting their rocks off right there in Edith's parking lot. Right in the front of their rigs with just the green light of the dash to guide them. Blowing their wad inside that hot, honey mouth girl sitting next to him, then pulling their pants on, starting up the engine and pulling out. Shit it sounded like fun.
"We gonna sit here all night gazing at the lamp post?" Lorna said, leaning over and nibbling his ear. She didn't want to rush him, but there was work. Besides this.
The insane, meaningless hum from the car radio provided the perfect backdrop to what came next.
Sheriff Bill unloosened his string tie, unsnapped the snap on his ranger pants, and breathed heavily. The tension was mounting, he could feel it. His cock wasn't going to leave him alone and he knew it.
Lorna unbuttoned her uniform and drew her huge double-barrel tits and spread her legs. She was garter belted, as usual, with tight silk stockings and no panties. It had come to be a necessity of the trade.
"Those look like milk pails full of cream," the big man said. He brought one hand over, very uneasily to let it rest on her enormous breast mound. It felt so good he let the second hand join it.
Lorna replied by hiking her skirt up over her knees and raising her hips to let it come up to her mid-section.
"How about this?" she said, gesturing suggestively toward her cunt.
"Like a jam jar full of currants," the man replied, feeling his prick stiffen again. It would probably poke out his pocket if he didn't let his pants down in a minute.
"If you see anything you like," Lorna said, feeling that she must please this man, no matter what it was he wanted. He was just too valuable an ally for her not to. "Just ask."
"I'm kind of an ordinary man," the sheriff let out between excited breaths, "Like things nice and simple, generally. The last man that said that to her ate a kielbasa out of her cunt. She thought she better take things in hand first. She reached over and the two of them together worked his zipper down slowly.
"What is there about that sound?" she said, teasingly. Then she reached in and fondled his hardening cock stick. It felt like the real thing. And a little longer and thicker than most of the real things she had touched.
"And this," she said, extracting his huge whang from its material confines, "Looks like a prize wiener."
Sheriff Bill leaned back and enjoyed the knowing, sensuous touch of the girl. She brought both her hands around the wide, smooth knob of his cockhead. Then she spread her fingers all out and played around his shaft like a family of spiders. Light, dizzying staccato touches. Up and down his hard, pulsating prick. Around and around his smooth, thick rod. Then, she drew the tension tighter by circling her hands and bringing them closer in on it. She used the fleshy arch between her thumb and index finger and worked it up and down his shaft, creating a heated friction that went right to his forehead. Of course, it went back to his dick and made it bigger, readier. The sensations were getting to him fast.
"Tell me what you like," Lorna whispered into his big, eager ear. She nibbled on the lobe and continued her handiwork on his throbbing dick wand.
"Everything you do feels fine to me," the tall giant replied, "I think you're doing great."
She whacked his cock as smoothly and evenly as she knew how. And that was plenty.
The rhythmic build up of strokes was making the man's butt muscles tighten. He seemed to rise up off the seat every time she slid her gripping hands off the tip of wet, smooth dick head.
Working the pre-cum drops down onto his shaft with her pinky fingers, she scooted closer in. She figured to give a good hand job, all right. With the biggest, softest, spongiest, hottest pair of hands she had. Her tits.
She let go his waving baton of slippery meat and cupped her hands around her tits. Then she pulled them up higher out of her encompassing half-bra and bent over toward Bill's whang. She didn't have far to bend.
"Oh, my," the man said, enjoying the scenery immensely. His prick was certainly along for the ride, too. It was jerking around under its own steam and getting a head up for real.
Lorna aimed her two white mountains of flesh so that the man's cock cut up in between them. She let herself down all the way over his ramrod and pulled her huge boobs together. Then she moved rapidly up and down. Down and up. She could feel the friction getting hotter. And she could feel the man's prick getting harder. She rubbed her giant tit cups up and back briskly creating a tremendous heat charge between them.
Bill Heithaus was nearly dying from overexposure to pleasure, but he hung on. He spread his legs hard apart and tried to take it like a man.
The dark-haired woman grabbed a hold of her two nipples and pulled them to center stage. Then she worked them up and down against his firm shaft, stirring the pre-cum drops to a tacky, slippery coating. She rubbed her nipples directly against the rim of his cock head. Round and round. The points of contact were excruciatingly sweet. Touching him like this was most enjoyable.
The long man felt his sphincter tighten in. He had wanted to hold it, to take whatever was going to come down and hold on as long as he could, but he had no idea how much more pleasure he could take all at once.
The woman was masturbating his giant dick pole with her nipples. Actually rubbing it till he flinched with tactile joy and excitement. She ran one rubbery hard nipple up the length of his shaft to the wet, sticky round crown and then right down the other side. Then she reversed the trip.
"That's unbelievable," the man said, finding his voice for the occasion.
Loma's nipples were burning like fury. The proximity of the big man's big cock to her sensitive knocker tips like this was driving her slightly batty as well as it was him.
"Could you suck me a little?" the man asked boldly. He hoped he could keep up with her.
"Glad to," Lorna said, sitting up and feeling her nipples sear with white heat from the friction of his dick.
She brought both her knees to the seat and held onto the steering wheel as she heard that non-stop of the car radio again. She adjusted her weight a little and bent over to continue working on the man, only changing the power source.
She felt her cunt light up with a steady, warm glow as she found her spot. Sitting there like this, she could stick her stockinged heels, down under her buttocks, in toward her cunt crack and feel the pressure on her pussy lips. It excited her to do so and she continued. Simultaneously, she bent down and stuck her tongue out. The instant it touched Sheriff Bill's dick it liked what it sucked. His cock was firm and receptive. The head was slippery and tasted like warm buttermilk. She flicked the head about fifty times with her snapping turtle tongue and closed her lips around the knob. Then she vibrated it hard with her cheek muscles acting as suction cups.
The big lawman could hardly distinguish one sensation from another. They all came at him in a blaze of color and a rush of feelings. He felt consumed by her sweet, sucking female mouth, driven to a fever pitch by the non-stop gyrations of her tongue.
"That is sweet," he called out in the heat of his arousal, "God, that is so sweet."
Lorna was about to move in for the kill when a voice came on the call radio.
"Sheriff Bill, this is Deputy Foster. We got one very splattered cow up on the highway. Near the overpass. Can we get somebody up there to put down some flares before a trucker hits her?"
"Fraid I gotta go, Doll," the redoubtable sheriff exclaimed, shifting on his throbbing butt cheeks and picking up the speaker, "but you stay right where you are. Christ, don't you dare go away."
He patted her on the head just as she was raising her sucking mouth to the tip of his dick.
"This is Sheriff Bill, Foster. I'm right next to the overpass. Down under it. I'll get up there right away. Over and out."
How he managed to say that he couldn't figure. But a lawman is a lawman. And duty called. A man getting his cock sucked, on the other hand, was one lucky bugger. And under no circumstances, should he be interrupted.
Bill started up the motor effortlessly, though Lorna had to adjust her seating a little. He got the car in first without much difficulty and turned on his whirling red light. It was, after all, an emergency. Any trucker could hit that dead carcass up there and get a side of beef on his windshield big enough to block his vision. Then, no telling what might happen. Or a car could run into it. That would be worse. It might skid off the road, careen into somebody else. No telling.
Loma gripped the rock hard schlong between her lips and gave it her best barreling down the pike sucking movement. She worked faster now, up and down, up and down and felt the man's heat of arousal rise a few more degrees.
So the two of them headed out of the parking lot and onto the access road, full speed ahead, cock to mouth, rocket to socket.
The sheriff bounced his hips hard up and down as he raced along. The speedometer read sixty and he stuck his foot harder down on the accelerator. His cock felt like a damn ready to burst.
Loma sucked and rammed the thing harder and harder into her wet, eager mouth trap. She let her lips ride all the way to the man's shaft, rolling when Sheriff Bill rocked his hips forward hard into the tight hot tunnel. It gripped him like a boa constrictor and he felt his dander rise to a crescendo.
"Shit," he allowed himself, as he pulled onto the main road, "I'm gonna shoot. Hold on, Lorna, here it comes."
She clutched the pecker wood hard down inside her throat and urged his come out with her flicking, pulsating tongue roll.
"Aaaaaahhhhhh," the Sheriff said, just as he pulled the car up to the soft shoulder of the road. "Shiiiiiiiiiiittttttt."
He came horde of Mongols off the steppes. Rushing, seething, heavy-breathing gushes of thick, hot come cream shot out of him. He shouted and bucked and her ears hurt. But as loud as he screamed, as long as he let out his insane wail of coming and creaming, the siren accompanied him. Nobody heard him scream. And nobody saw him shoot the heavy wet load of spunk out his prick slit. Nobody except Lorna. Nobody except the luscious little chick who was going down on him, sucking him for all her might, every inch of the way.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lorna stood back to admire the electronic beast lying against the white bedspread of the little alcove room in back of the kitchen. It was a CB and a half all right. She could hardly wait to try it out. And this little spot was the perfect hiding place. She'd have to get an antenna set up on the roof. Plenty of time to do that tomorrow. She'd have to get a big one, too. She wanted it to be able to pick up and receive signals from all three states in the surrounding area.
But her plans were interrupted by a familiar youthful voice. Only this time, instead of laughing and joshing with the customers, it was sobbing and spilling its guts.
"He says he won't give me another dime for school," she wailed. "I guess he thinks I make big bucks serving french fries over here three hours a day."
It was Luanne's little lost sheep voice. And hearing it made Lorna feel very sorry for her.
"He's doing that cause he doesn't want me to make anything of myself, the old goat. He's afraid I'll get a degree and get a job away from Fall City and he won't ever see me again. Shit!"
The girl stomped her foot and sniffled. "Course that's exactly what I'll do, so I can't blame him," she sobbed softly.
"Wish I could help you," Lois's fine, feathery voice came back. "I don't make enough behind that register to feed my cat."
"Hank says he wants to give me money," the first girl said, blowing her nose and trying to sound normal again, "but his Uncle's so damn tight-fisted, he won't even give him a raise. And Hank runs that garage all by himself!"
"Fucking misers in this burg make my blood boil," Lois said sympathetically.
"His uncle don't want him going round with me," Luanne came in again, "says I'm a little tramp on account of I work for a living. He says I shouldn't be working for Edith, not as long as Lorna Stucilli is here, too. Don't know what he's got against her. Says he ran her out of town on vagrancy. like fun!"
At the mention of her name, Lorna pulled the curtains back. Normally, she didn't like eavesdropping, but her mind was working so fast, she forgot to engage her mouth to protest.
"I'm sorry," she said, coming over to Luanne and putting her arms around her. "I heard what you said from in there. Please forgive me for listening in."
"Doesn't matter," Luanne said, feeling the warm comforting bosom of Lorna's pressed against her arms. "You're practically family anyway."
It was the first time Lorna had ever been included in such a unit. Nobody since her mother had treated her like she belonged anywhere. "I might have an idea, though," she said, cautiously, trying to feel out the two girls, "if both of you want to listen."
"If it's about getting money, count me in," Lois said, leaning her butt against the sink. "I ain't in college, okay, but I got expenses. I guess it's time you knew, Lorna, I got a three year old kid to support. Not easy."
"All right," Lorna said, heaving a sigh of relief that this was the slack hour of the evening. Only a few truckers would drop by and Edith and the one other waitress out there could no doubt handle them. "But I'm gonna have to ask you to keep an open mind."
"Unlike most of the people in this town," Luanne said, her eyes still red and smarting, "I am a liberal."
"You're gonna have to be when you hear what I got to say," the dark-haired woman said, pulling the two girls by the hand back into the little alcove.
"It couldn't be any worse than what Luanne's old man said to her," Lois popped in as she let herself be dragged back into the tiny bedroom, "or what my last boyfriend told me when I told him I had a kid to support."
"See that," Lorna said as she parted the curtains and pointed to the huge radio on the bed. "I know it looks like a CB radio."
"That's what it is, ain't it?" Lois said smiling at Lorna. "More than that," Lorna said, pulling a chair up so the three of them could have a nice, intimate chat, "it's a meal ticket."
* * *
Edith wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead and sat the coffee cup down in front of the heavy-set trucker. She wondered what the hell was keeping those girls of hers. And where had they gone. Five minutes ago, they were all in the kitchen and now there was no sign of them. She hadn't had time to check the alcove room, though she heard no noise coming from there when stuck her head in the "In" door. Probably they were back there, counting their tips.
"Cream?" she asked the large man.
"Black." He cast his eyes down toward his cup, indicating he wanted to be left alone.
Edith glanced around the joint and saw her new waitress wiping the tables down in the corner. Not much doing. She'd have time for a little look in the back bedroom. Maybe those three were back there smoking some grass. She wouldn't allow that on her premises. Most likely, though, they were just chewing the rag. But why the hush-hush routine.
She shoved the door open with her sexy hip and strolled boldly in. Just then she heard a little giggle coming from behind the curtain. She moved closer to where she could hear the action. The women were keeping their voices very low.
"I don't know," Lois was whispering, "I never took money before."
"You took stockings and dinners and drive-in movies, didn't you?" she recognized Lorna's sexy, husky whisper. "Well, the stock's risen, that's all."
"What do I tell Hank?" Luanne purred softly.
"You don't tell him nothing," Lorna hissed back. "You just take your fat tips, see him whenever you want, and get your college degree. He won't be able to tell a thing."
"It sounds too good to be true," Luanne came back, "but I got one huge, pressing problem."
"Such as?" Lorna was whispering again.
"You say you're gonna get this thing hooked up some time next week?"
"Yeah, it'll take a few days to do it right. Get settled in. Learn some CB slang for Chrissakes."
"Ten-four, Lorna," Luanne agreed, "but I gotta have this money soon, I mean the last day I can enroll for next semester is Friday. That's two days away."
Silence. Edith cocked her head a little more toward the curtain.
"You're saying you could use the cash right now, that it?" Lorna said, in a nearly normal tone of voice.
"It won't do me much good next week, Sister."
Silence again. Edith jumped back as the sound of chairs moving against the floor and bedsprings creaking cut off their next words.
"Hi, Edie," Lois said, grinning a phony, cover-up grin as she pulled the curtain back.
"You got a live one at the cash register," Edith said, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Thanks," she said, straightening her tight work blouse and heading for the "Out" door.
"We're gonna need a few minutes more, Edith," Lorna announced, pointing toward the front door. "Outside. We'll be right back. What's the crowd like?"
"Manageable," the red-haired woman said, then she pulled her over and whispered quietly into her ear so that Luanne couldn't hear her, "just see that you stay that way yourself."
"Not to worry, Edie," Lorna reassured her, patting the back of her hand, "I got my pedal to the medal."
Lorna grabbed her trench coat off the silver hook and disappeared back into the alcove. She peeled her uniform off and threw it in a heap on the bed. Then she put her coat on and tied the belt at the waist. Tightly. She passed through the kitchen and waved a quick Bye-Bye to Edith as she scurried out the door. She strolled briskly through the restaurant keeping her head down and motioned for Lois to follow her outside. Luanne was standing in the parking lot waiting. She turned around quickly and looked through the glass door into the restaurant. Only one customer alone. A heavy set man at the counter. He looked like chopped liver waiting to mold. A couple putting coins into the juke box. Edith and her new girl cleaning tables, nothing here. She turned around and beckoned the girls to follow her. Then she made for the access road.
"Nothing happening in there right now, so I figure we can go straight up to the main highway." As she spoke, she stared up at the huge overpass above them. It would take only a few minutes to walk the shoulder leading up to it and then....
"I still ain't sure I'm built for this," Lois sighed, holding her sweater a little closer to her neck.
"Let me tell you something," Lorna said, feeling the effect of the steep incline on her calf muscles. "I've seen a lot of shapes in my time, and you are definitely built for it!"
"I hope you know what you're doing," Luanne panted, running to keep up. She could hear the onrushing traffic louder with each step.
"I hope so, too," the dark-haired woman said, the buzzing of the speeding traffic sang in her ears.
Once topside, she struck out along the soft shoulder a few feet to avoid the glare from the cars entering from the access road. She stopped and scanned the headlights coming at her. There, after a long procession of cars were two huge bright headlights, indicating a heavy truck was approaching.
"Stand a little over there," she said to the two girls, "and smile. You're on stage, remember?"
She unfastened the belt of her coat and looked around. The setting was perfect. Few cars. Few and far between. And that big, steaming red truck barreling down at her. Just as if she had planned it. When its headlights were less then two car-lengths away, she stepped dangerously close to the far right hand lane and felt her boot hit pavement. She gripped her lapels with both her hands and FLASH!! popped her coat open and held it there a moment. Then she closed the coat and watched as the truck speeded past her.
"Jesus Christ!" the short-haired barrel-chested driver said as he whizzed by. "What the hell was that?"
"Stop this rig and find out," his co-driver said, "or I'm jumping out."
The driver drew his mighty arms across each other and steered toward the shoulder as he put on the brake.
The girls pointed excitedly when they saw the big truck's brake lights go on several car lengths away. Then they saw the truck come to a complete stop and they all rushed toward it.
"Hi Big Stranger," Lorna said up to the passenger's side, hot and invitingly.
She saw the driver stick his head out the same side and she smiled up at them.
"You ... uh ... " the driver said, feeling his member rise with his voice. "You lost?"
"Need a tire changed?" the other driver said, as fast as he could. He, too, was feeling the sweat of arousal begin to build up under his work pants.
"Do I look like I have a flat?" Lorna said, leaning one elbow on the passenger door and winking up again.
"These your friends?" the driver shouted down.
"They sure are," Lorna beamed back, "you got time to party? If so, we'll be up there to join you."
"Hop in," The burly-chested short-haired man invited. He opened his co-driver's door and let it swing free.
Luanne stood close enough to the open door to let the driver yank her up. Lois followed and Lorna helped by pushing her ass up.
She ran around the driver's side once Lois was safely up. The girls watched as she whispered something in the man's ear and he took out his wallet. He peeled some bills off it and their conversation continued a while longer. Then the second man stuck his head in too, the chatter went on. Finally, the two men sat back and Lorna's head disappered below the window. They saw her next on the passenger side.
"Give these guys a good time, Ladies," she winked, holding up a handful of crisp bills. "You do and you got a C-note each coming."
"Shit!" Lois thought aloud, then she thought to herself. "I don't make that in a week."
"You boys come by often?" Luanne chuckled a little uncomfortably. Then she felt a thick muscular arm encircle her tiny wrist.
"Not so far, but things might change after this trip," the driver said.
She noticed he was a cute, long-limbed blonde with sexy eyes and bulging muscles, especially the one in his pants.
"Name's Homer," he grinned, pulling her to him. "I didn't catch yours."
"I'm Leo," the darker one said, eyes wide as stair wells. "You're cute."
"My name's Lois," the raven-haired beauty grinned, "you really think there's room in this cab for a party?"
"Leo," Homer said, trying to contain himself, "my bird seems to want to fly the coop. I wonder if has anything to do with this here sexy little kitten I got bouncing on my lap."
"My pecker done turned to wood about eighteen hundred car lengths ago," the husky long-haired dark guy said, "so don't come complaining to me."
"If you don't mind my saying," Homer said, loud enough for a passing motorist to hear, "You look good enough to fuck."
Luanne let out a low moan and nodded her head. "I know." Then she unbuttoned her blouse, the way Hank liked her to do, real slow, real teasing, and real hot.
Lois pulled her blouse off in one yank, practically busting her buttons. She could feel Leo's big hammer thudding away under her skirt. It felt like a work gang was digging a pipe line down there.
"God, your bush feels hot, Hon," Leo said, as he reached into Lois's steaming silks and felt her pussy heaving. "I think I could rush you about two seconds from now and not care if I won or lost."
She yanked her skirt rudely over her curvy hips and straddled him. He pulled his big zipper down in one fell swoop and released his throbbing meat cleaver.
"Look like anything you'd like to find in the supermarket?" he said, swinging it around, feeling very macho and very proud of its thickness.
Lois responded by slipping her panties down over one leg and scooting in close to his crotch.
"Turn around and let me get that uniform skirt up," Homer said, releasing his rock hard prize from its denim home. He helped Luanne wiggle her skirt up high and eased her panties off over hot, shimmering little buttocks. "Put your knees on the seat and lean on the steering wheel, Sweetie," he whispered into her ready, poised ear. "I'm gonna fuck that hot little cunt of yours till kingdom come."
Lois took in a heavy gulp of air as Leo's thick rod head pierced her cunt lips. It was so hot and huge, nodding around up there. She saddled closer up on it and felt it ram in and out, creating tight muscular vibrations far out on the lips of her creamy cunt.
Luanne did as she was advised and leaned on the steering wheel with her head turned around enough to see Homer sticking his hot cock up her butt. He found her cunt opening with one willing hand and slid his shaft smoothly inside her. The contact points were exquisitely sensual.
"Fucking H!" Leo let out as his thick tool rammed into the tight little pussy constrictor. It felt every inch of his pecker rod get gripped like wet rubbery fingers were feeling it up. "You are one tight, hot little piece of ass."
"This feels all right," Homer said, in a soothing, hot voice. "I could fuck like this for about another eight seconds if I don't watch myself."
He reached around front and masturbated Luanne's pulsating love button with his sturdy fingers. He pushed his long dick up to the hilt of her cunt hole and felt for an all-too-brief moment the luxury of a really wet, hot, tiny pussy. Then he pushed her a little forward and popped his cock out. It shone wet and glistening in the dashboard light. Then he thrust it in again and proceeded to fuck her slow and smooth.
Leo looked down at Lois's ripe melon tits and grabbed her nipples between his fingers. He shook them and kneaded them like play dough and squeezed his buttocks together and shoved his cock up hard. Then he released his ass muscles and let her ride down slow on his pulsating cock pole. He repeated the whole thing again, again, and again, until his breathing rhythms matched those of fucking action.
Lois felt Leo's thick stalk charging up her and withdrawing out. She rode him in a daze of arousal and bewilderment. She couldn't believe she was getting it so good from someone she didn't know. It was exciting. Exciting and fun. Her pussy tingled so hard it shook.
Lorna stood next to the huge front wheels of the truck and counted the money again. She could hear the sounds of arousal coming from inside the cab and the smells of sex drifting out the passenger side of the partially opened door.
The combination had her hot enough to want to jump right up in there and get her pussy sucked off. But, by whom? And there was nothing as bad as a fifth wheel at some parties. She stood on the soft shoulder and watched the cars whiz by.
"Oh, fuck that thing, you Highway Cunt," Leo shouted, ramming his meat high up in the girl's throbbing wet pussy hole.
"Come on, Baby," Homer added, "Let me see that pussy slide up and down on my gear shift. Yeah."
He watched in total fascination as she gripped the steering wheel with her hands and let herself up and down on his fuck stick, holding her pink, moist pussy lips dead against his throbbing, driving cock.
Lois felt her nipples pinched hard as the big dick inside her kept up its insane pace of pumping a mile a minute. She felt like she was being pile drived all the way home.
"Shit!" Leo let out as he felt himself spring loose from his moorings and fall off the launching dock. "I gotta come now. Oh, shit, I gotta come."
He let loose with a whoop and loosed his load into the young thing's sweet, stifling cunt. He shot his spunk in and partially out of her wild, gripping fuck hole. He was amazed to see her slide off it, bend down and take the still shooting barrelhead into her quivering, wet mouth and suck the rest of his come right off the top. She was some sport.
"God, that hurts like a son-of-a-bitch!" Homer said, his cock getting ready to spray and squirt its contents up inside the tight little chick's pussy slit. He fingered her hard and felt her spasms match his own as they shot off together. Nice timing, considering how long they'd known each other.
"Suck that off," Leo whispered to Lois "then let me stick it back in. It ought to stay up the way you're treating it. I like to see my date enjoy herself, too, if you know what I mean."
Lois and Leo guided his thick prick back up into her swollen, raw pussy crack. Holding onto it with one of his hands and one of hers, they crammed it up and down, in and out for another unbelievable minute and a half. They worked his fuck stick in and out her quivering cunt. They pushed the greased pole hard inside her waiting, wet wad and beat it as she came up off it a little. Then, they stuck it back in and Leo felt her begin a series of shudders that told him she was about to get off. And get off good.
Lois felt herself pitch forward and come down harder on the thick, working ramrod. It filled her insides so tightly her cunt couldn't breathe. It choked her off and she cried out for air as she split the night into pieces with her wild yelling and screaming. She was coming all right. She shot down hard against Leo's throbbing wick wand. She covered his greased meat with her own clear liquid coating of joy juice.
Lorna jumped up to look inside the cab window as Lois shouted out her coming sequence. It sounded like the girl might be in pain. But no, She was just coming, with the force of Niagara.
"That's yours," Lorna said to Lois a few minutes later. "Keep it in a safe place."
They were dressed again and headed down the off ramp toward Edith and Joe's. Lorna figured it was good she had shown them they could get fast money fast, if that were the necessity. The good stuff, the stuff she had planned for and savored, that wouldn't happen till next week. Maybe not till the week after.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The big red-haired owner of Edith and Joe's pulled her car up to her special reserved parking space and looked up on the roof. That antenna sure did look like a natural up there. It made her joint look like a radio station. And, in fact, that's sort of what it had become. Not two weeks had passed since that thing went up and already business had picked up mightily. If such a thing were possible.
Edith knew full well what the reasons for that were. She made it her business to know everybody's business who worked under her roof. And she had made that knowledge pay. Besides improving her business tremendously, Lorna was also cutting her for a hefty percentage of what she took in off the road from the CB calls she put out at nights. The CB calls from her radio, the one Sheriff Bill Heithaus had gifted her with. The one sitting back there in her own kitchen corner room with the curtain closed safely over it. The one truckers in three states got calls on whenever they came within a fifty mile radius of the area. The one they answered when they wanted to get their ever-loving rocks off.
She smiled as she walked past the big green semi-diesel parked in the lot. She saw Lois's head pressed against the side of the passenger's window. The girl turned and waved to her from the cab as she walked past. Then she rolled down her window. "Hi," she called, "You going to work?"
"Yeah," Edith said showing a little leer on her thick, sensual rouged lips. "Somebody's gotta feed these poor truckers. Keep their stamina up."
She saw Luanne getting out of the driver's side of a small pickup truck. "Hello, Edith," the girl said, buttoning the top of her uniform.
"Small rig, huh?" the red-haired matriarch hollered.
"In more ways than just the one you're looking at," she winked, pocketing a thick roll of bills.
"I wonder if it's safe of me to ask where Lorna is now," Edith said as she and Luanne entered the restaurant together.
"She's got her ears on, betcha." Luanne said, glancing around. About five of the tables were filled and there was a new girl at the cash register ringing up a trucker's tab.
There had been a lot of new girls hired at that place in the last couple of weeks. Maybe that was because Luanne, Lorna, and Lois didn't spend too much time in the restaurant these days.
"Butter Tart to Knockwurst," Edith heard Lorna say into the radio speaker as she entered the kitchen. "That's a big ten-four." Edith shook her head and set her purse down in the storage closet. This place of hers had turned into a regular bakery. Lorna was Butter Tart. Luanne, with that blonde hair, was Lemon Meringue. And Lois affectionately known over the wires as Deep Dish Boysenberry Pie. Fun it was, but she clucked to herself as wondered just how safe. The boys in Sheriff Heithaus's department were no fools. Neither was the Sheriff Boy himself. And
Lorna and he had been spending a lot of time together.
"Would it be asking too much of you, Lorna," Edith said, sticking her head behind the curtain, "to kind of ask your girls to button up their blouses and pocket their hard-earned cash before they get out of the car?"
"Ten-four, Strawberry Pop." Lorna took her head phones off a minute and let the radio run to static. "I mean it, Lorna," she said, finding her waitress cap and sticking a bobby pin in her hair to make it stay on her head. "Can't be too careful."
"You're right," Lorna said, stepping into her shoes. "I'll give the girls a crash course on roadside manners. How are you doing, Edie?"
"Better now. Man from Fall City says he can replace the sign over the diner. Wants to charge me an arm and a leg for it, though."
"Bring him round this evening," Lorna said, tying her apron behind her back, "I know a few cuties who can change his mind. And if they can't, maybe you and I can."
"You and I?" Edith bellowed as Lorna disappeared out the kitchen door and headed toward the restaurant, "what are you talking about?"
Lorna stuck her head right back in the "In" door slit, "A threesome, Red Rocks, you know, like bacon, lettuce, and tomato!"
Edith shook her head hard as Lorna disappeared again. That gal! What would she think of next. But, come to think of it, maybe it might be fun. It just might be at that.
Lorna sailed out into the restaurant and headed for the ladies' room. One quick cigarette and . ... She stopped dead in her tracks. There, straight ahead of her, seated alone in a booth under the front window, was Maria Hanratty. Wearing her favorite gold strap platform shoes and best black satin skirt!
She did a double take and stood there like a deer caught in a headlight. Then, she brought her hands down hard on her hips and gave the woman the piercing look treatment. What the hell was she doing here, she wondered? If she came for a haircut, she had come to the right place. Lorna felt like snatching her bald at the moment.
"Hi, Lorna," the bubble-headed blonde waved. "Got a minute?"
Lorna considered going straight into the ladies' room, taking a shit, and serving it to the woman on one of Edith's blue plates, but she scratched it.
"What's on your mind, Maria?" she said, wondering at the same time if this daffy duckling really had a mind.
"Come on over," the heavily-made up woman cooed, "I'd love to talk to you."
"Suppose you would," Lorna said, crossing defiantly to the booth where she was seated "what would you say to me?"
"Don't be too hard on me, Lorna," she said, tapping the table top with her high gloss nails. "I left Wes."
"How come?" she said, standing over her like the ghost of doom, "he didn't like your girlfriend's clothes?" She stared down hard at Maria's feet.
Maria sighed.
"He was lousy in bed, he snored, and he never gave me a single penny," she said, uncrossing her legs uncomfortably. "That enough for you?"
'Guess it was for you." Lorna said, sinking down into the wooden booth seat.
She stared hard at the woman who kept evading her glance. Then a thought occurred to her. A sweet, plotting little flash of a thought. It stuck to her brain like caramel.
"I don't know what to do. I got no money, I got no friends. Mom hasn't talked to me since I married Wes. I can't hold down a job. I married the little tight wad straight out of high school. I was the Prom Queen that spring. Our colors were lilac and lime. I wore purple. Should have seen me."
"Sorry I missed it," Lorna said, crabbing Maria's cigarette pack and pulling out a fag. "Got a match?"
"I came here, cause I figured, ya know, being as how you and I were friends . ... You think you can get me a job, Lorna? I mean, a good job?" Lorna wished she could take a screwdriver and unloosen one of the already loose screws in the blonde woman's head and peek inside. Did she or did she not know that Lorna was running a roadside whore house?
"I never waited tables before, but I look the part, don't you think?" the woman bit down on her lower lip and shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
If she knew, she wasn't saying. But, it didn't matter anyway. Not really.
"Okay, Maria," the dark-haired sexy waitress said, "I'll put in a word for you with the boss."
"The way I hear tell it at the beauty parlor, you are the boss," Maria said keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the ashtray in the center of the table.
She knew. That was for sure. Lorna looked up and thought about where to go from here. She didn't have to think long. The diner door opened swiftly and an old familiar form walked through.
"Straightaway!" she said, getting up
The big man pinched the cute, hot, sexy waitress gal's rear end. "Can you come out with me right now? Or do I have to wait a respectable amount of time. Say two more minutes?"
"I would just love to," Lorna said, nodding in Maria's direction, "but my friend here spotted you first."
"What?" the man said, staring at the cute little blonde across the table. Not that she was dog's lunch, but he had been dreaming about Lorna all the way from Shreveport. "Excuse me, Ma'am," he said politely, extending his hand to her, "Name's Straightaway. You're?"
"Monique," the blonde woman said in a Midwestern French accent. She batted her eyes at him and lit a cigarette in an especially sultry way.
"I am sorry, Big Guy," she said to him, "but I gotta stay right here and keep an eye on the place. Do you think my friend could replace me just this once. She's no slouch, I guarantee it."
She didn't look it to him, either. He was disappointed and he didn't intend to hide it, but it felt like he had no choice. The little blonde with the big knockers didn't seem like a bad second. By any means.
"Okay," he said amiably. "You talked me into it. What's the going rate around here?" today?"
Lorna pulled his big shoulder toward her and whispered in his ear. Then he smoothly reached back in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He parted company with two big ones and gave them to Lorna. She promptly kicked Maria under the table and reached her hand under toward her. She slapped the bills into the blonde woman's hand and sat up again, smiling. So far, her plan had worked to a turn.
"I zaw you from ze door, Monsieur," Maria oozed through her front teeth, "I zaid to myzelf, what a strong man. And how handzome!"
"Thank you, all right, let's go!" Straightaway pivoted on his powerful ass muscles and swung his feet into the diner aisle. He stood up and watched as the blonde creature did the same.
Lorna sat down on the counter stool and looked at the clock above the grill. Five minutes. That's how long she would wait. That's how long she would give those two before she called Sheriff Bill. Before she called Sheriff Bill to make the arrest. Before she asked him to arrest that blonde bitah for solin the parking lot of a public restaurant. Before she had Sheriff Wes Hanratty's little wife arrested for prostitution.
