JackpotChapter 2
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Jackpot: Chapter Two free porn video
Disclaimers & Warnings: This tale includes, elements of BDSM, and a healthy sprinkling of verbal humiliation. Readers who are offended or triggered by such material are advised to proceed with caution or bail out now.
© SheriffBart 2020. All rights reserved.
Feedback is welcome. Enjoy!
~~~~~ Chapter Two: Trisha ~~~~~~
I'd gone to the local Indian casino on a Friday night hoping to get lucky at the roulette table. The lovely South Asian dealer had taken all my money, but fortune smiled upon me. On my way out of the parking lot, I spotted a tall blond in daisy dukes and a white tank top standing at the side of the road with her thumb out. She had shoulder-length hair and an athletic, curvy figure. I pulled over to offer her a ride, which she accepted enthusiastically.
“Where you headed Miss?”, I asked as she tossed her backpack into the back seat.
“Tulsa please”- she said breathlessly. “Tryin' to get the fuck away from this shit-hole town as far and fast as I can. There's a 'Flying J' truck stop just outside the city. From there, I can get anywhere.”
“Okay. What's your name, Miss?”
“Trisha. Thanks for picking me up sir!”
“My pleasure Trisha. And you can call me Bart.”
“Nice to meet you Bart. And thanks again, I really appreciate it. You have no idea how bad I wanna get outta here.”
“No problem, Trisha. Tulsa huh? Well I'm not really headed that far north” - I cautioned as I pulled onto the highway - “but I've got some time. I didn't have much luck at the Casino, and I've got no plans for the rest of the night. I guess I could take you that far.”
She smiled at me with a charged look in her big blue eyes that I couldn't quite read.
“Well sir – I mean, Bart -- your luck just changed. If you get me to Tulsa, I promise you” - she spread her legs and slid her hands along her thighs - “I'll make it worth your while.”
I struggled to keep my eyes on the road. Her long, shapely legs were a major distraction, even without the suggestive promise. She had the look of a girl who spent a lot of time in the gym.
“Well, that's really not necessary Miss. Trisha. It's no trouble really.”
“Uh, yeah it is. Tulsa's about three hours away isn't it? A hundred fifty miles at least. That's a lotta time and a lotta gas. Besides, I'm okay with it, sir. I know the rules.”
“Bart. Not 'sir'. And what rules are those?”
“Sorry, si- Bart. I was raised to respect my elders. Southern charm and all that. And, according to the bumper stickers I've seen” -- she said with a glamorous smile -- “the rules are, ass, cash, or grass - nobody rides for free. Well, I don't do grass and I can't spare the cash. So...”
“Holy shit” I muttered. I had no intention of taking advantage of a young girl in trouble, but how often does a guy get a chance like this? My pulse quickened as I considered her invitation.
“Well, you do have gorgeous legs, Trisha. Are you a cheerleader? You have that look.”
“What look?” – she teased. “Long legs, tight ass, long blonde hair?” She turned towards me, cupped her tits, and arched her chest toward me. “Firm, bouncy boobs?”
“Well, yeah, now that you -”
“Big blue eyes, big smile” – her voice rose to a high-pitched parody of a Barbie doll – “big team spirit, empty head?”
“Uh no! No, I -”
“No thanks, I'd rather be a quadriplegic than bounce around hopping and smiling like some...some mindless fuck-toy! I can think of about a million things I'd rather be than arm candy for some dumb jock.”
“Good for you!” I tried to deflect her indignation. As uncomfortable as it was thinking I'd offended my sexy guest, hearing her echo one of my pet peeves was a pleasant surprise. This girl seemed more engaging by the minute.
“I've never understood the appeal of that” – I continued – “I mean, why do we even still need cheerleaders in the 21st century? It's sexist and archaic. Not to mention stupid.”
“I know, right?”, she crowed. “Buncha fuckin' brain dead bimbos!”
“Well, I mean.. I don't mean stupid”, I hedged. “I'm sure they're not all really stupid. It just looks so silly.” I tried to balance my honest contempt for cheerleaders with a little tact, but Trisha would have none of it.
“No, trust me, Bart. They're stupid. Rock, fucking dumb!”
I burst out laughing and my guffaw proved contagious.
“Bouncy Barbie bimbos! Look at me, I'm so full of team spirit I might just explode” – she squeaked in her faux Barbie voice.
We laughed together and I relaxed and shared my favorite cheerleader story.
“I remember one day, when I was in college, I was walking down to the McDonald's a few blocks from campus. Along came this giggling, bouncing, knot of cheerleaders. They were all dressed up, miniskirts, pom-poms, the whole shebang. There was no game anywhere. They were bouncing down the sidewalk in the middle of the afternoon, cheering and shouting like they were on the fifty yard line. I thought, 'What the hell are they cheering for? These are college aged women, hopping down the sidewalk like a bunch of six-year old girls. Can they possibly be that stupid? Of course that was uh... a few years ago. Maybe things have changed since then.”
“Trust me Bart, nothing's changed. They still do that. Bouncing, cheering and waving pom-poms, like they're always center-court with the whole world watching them. Jumping and twirling. Ugh” She paused a moment and looked out the window, shaking her head.
“And spreading their legs. Spreading their fucking legs! On the field, on the sidelines...under the bleachers, on the back of the bus, in the locker room. Spreading their legs, for the boys. Spreading their legs is what they do best Bart. Not that you can blame them. That's that they've been taught since they were, what six? This is what we teach women when we put cheerleaders at every sporting event. The boys take the field and impress the crowd with their...their strength and skill. And strategy. The girls stand on the sidelines, look pretty, and cheer the men on. They smile and shake their cute little pom-poms, and jump up and down, and spread their legs for the boys. For the fans! For fucking everybody!”
“You know what that says to little girls Bart? It says, 'look girls, you want to be a success? Do you want everybody to see you and love you? If you want to matter, just spread your legs and make everybody happy!' How fucked up is that?”
“Damn Trisha, you're right. That's pretty keen insight. I never thought of it like that. As much as I despise the mindless zeal of cheerleaders, that really is what we teach little girls. At least on some level. That is fucked up. Look, I'm sorry Trisha, I didn't mean to imply that you were anything like that, I just ”--
“Hey, no, it's okay. Really. I get that a lot. I think I have half a brain, but I do have the look. Blonde hair blue eyes...hot bod” She smiled at me.
“True dat” I smiled back.
“But not from doing splits on the fifty yard line. These fine legs and sexy ass are from volleyball” – she said with a bit of pride, as she stretched her sexy legs and placed her feet on the dash. She paused to admire them and once again stroked her thighs with a mixture of satisfaction and invitation.
“Three years of volleyball gives you cheerleader legs and an ass that looks awesome in hot pants. Google 'volleyball shorts' and you'll see what I mean.”
“Ha! Been there, done that. Got the hard-on.”
“I'll bet!” – she laughed. Then, still stroking her thighs invitingly, she added - “Hmm, I think I'd like to see that, Bart.”
I felt heat rush to my face and blood to my groin. “I'll bet you would, Trisha.” I glanced over at her and she was staring at my crotch, smiling at the bulge she'd raised in my jeans.
“I really would like to see your wood, Bart.” Her girlish voice d****d a lace-thin veneer of innocence over the womanly desire burning in her eyes.
“And I would love to get a better look at your sexy ass. I guess you could say I've always been an 'ass man'. The sight of a healthy woman with wide hips and a firm, round butt is one of the finest things in life.”
“Well sir, that can be arranged. I'm sure you'll approve. Three years of drills, squats, and lunges, and two years competing in UIL playoffs gave me a butt you can bounce a quarter off of. We damn near won state, but our team captain blew out her knee. I may look like a cheerleader, but I'm not. I'm an athlete, not a fucking sideshow.”
She grew quiet and stared out the window.
“At least I was. I got a full scholarship offer from Southeastern. That was gonna be my ticket out. I was all set. All I had to do was make it through my senior year, get a summer job, and I'd be done and out of that shit-hole, far away from...”
She was silent for a long time. I thought I heard sniffling. As I glanced over, she wiped at her eyes and looked back my way.
“Not anymore. Now I guess I'm a just what my Mama said I'd be. She'll be so happy that she was right about me after all. I'll be just what she always said. Just another whore on the street.”
“Hey, come on, now, that's not true” I said gently. I reached over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“If it wasn't true Bart, I wouldn't be in your car and I wouldn't be planning to pay for my getaway fare by fucking you, now would I?”
The electric look in her eyes silenced any further affirmation of virtue from either of us. Suddenly I felt like dirt.
“But...but if you've earned a scholarship, there must be some way to get away to college and start over. You'll be in Durant, right? You'll be far away from -”
“Not far enough. Not from him. He'll come get me. On weekends. He's got it all planned. Living on campus is too expensive, he says. I'm supposed.. I'm supposed to come home on the weekends so we can save on room and board. He'll come get me, and bring me home. And I'll be fucking trapped. And he'll do it over and over again until there's nothing left. Then I'll be just like her, and I can't. ... I just can't.”
Her head dropped and her shoulders rocked with silent sobs. I went cold inside. I felt small and powerless.
“Who, Trisha? Who'll come and get you?”
“My sleazy, fucking stepfather. He's a worthless piece of shit. Mom won't listen to me, he's got her wrapped around his tattooed fingers. He knows she won't listen, so he fuckin' does – he does whatever he wants. Perverted bastard even got a Batman tattoo on his pubes to show me what a 'badass' he thinks he is.”
Then she raised her head, blinked away the tears and found her voice.
“That's why I'm leaving. I have to. I've got to get away and start my own life. I hate to leave her behind with him, but I. Have. To. Get. Out."
She took a deep breath, turned to me and smiled sweetly. "And you're helping me. And I thank you.”
I reached over and stroked her hair unsure of what to do or say.
“I'm so sorry, Trisha. I wish...I wish I could do more.”
“I know. Its okay. I'll be fine.”
She took my hand and held it to her cheek for a moment, then kissed it. “You're a good guy, Bart. A good man.”
“Now, I don't know about that. I " --
“I do. I have a feeling about guys. Y'know, most guys would have pulled over and fucked me silly by now. You're still driving me to Tulsa and trying to talk me out of running away. And, I know it's not because you don't want some of this. I saw you checkin' out my legs. I saw what it did to you, when I was talking about my tight, sexy ass.”
She reached over and slid her hand across my lap. My dick had wilted, but her touch restored it to painful hardness in an instant.
“Like I said sir, I'll make it worth your while. You can still get lucky tonight.”
My heart was beating like a jackhammer and it took all my self-control to keep my eyes on the road. “Look, Trisha, you're right. You are a gorgeous, sexy, smart young woman. And besides finding an alternative to you being a runaway, there's nothing I'd rather do right now than pull over, and bend you over this car...”
She squeezed my cock and purred. “Mmm, now that's what I'm talking about. Gimme that bbc, baby.”
I took a deep breath and offered up my last hope for salvaging my decency. “But here's the thing. I'm married. That may not mean anything to you, and it wouldn't to most men in this situation. But not only am I married, but I'm in an open marriage. My wife and I are polyamorous. That means –“
“Perfect! That means you can fuck me and nobody gets butt-hurt over it. Let's find a place to pull over.”
“That means --” I continued – “that we have rules. And one of those rules is, we don't have unprotected sex with strangers - with anyone without prior agreement. And, unfortunately, I don't happen to have any condoms on me. So, as gorgeous and sexy and...willing as you are, I'm going to have to pass.”
I breathed a sigh of relief tinged with regret. I knew I was doing the right thing, but I also knew I was sure as hell going to regret it later.
“Hmmm. Well that's cool, I can respect that, I guess.” The seductive purr had faded from her voice and I started to relax.
“So you and your wife fuck other people, right Bart?”
“Uh, yeah.” I was relieved to change the subject. Talking about my wife was usually the perfect antidote for overly amorous women. “We've been poly for almost three years now. It's a blast. But, like I said we have –“
“So she wouldn't be butt-hurt about you fucking a 19-year old?”
“Hell no!” – I laughed – “One of her dates last year was only 22. Younger than our son. But, like I said –“
“Okay, tell ya what, Bart " – the feline purr was back in her throat and my heart started pounding again – “We don't have to fuck. But I was dead serious when I said I would like to see your wood. I'm gonna find us a nice place to pull over – ” she started stroking my hard-on through my pants – “and I'm gonna give you a proper thank you. I'm also gonna borrow your phone, and we'll take some nice pics of me sucking your big, black cock and send some to your wife. But you gotta promise to send me one too, to remember you by.”
My heart pounded. My dick strained in my jeans. I was trapped and thrilled. There was nothing more to say. Instead of protesting further, I signaled my surrender by caressing her wrist, dragging my fingers lightly up her arm, and back down until my hand was resting on top of hers. She recognized my silent surrender and gave me a firm squeeze .
Then she used her phone to find an industrial park along our route and gave me directions. I gave up all pretense of restraint and started stroking her left thigh. As we exited the highway, she applied fresh lipstick and brushed her hair.
We turned into the industrial park. It was a fairly small one with just a few commercial buildings in a wooded area. There was no one there late on a Friday night, but the area was well lit. So I drove around to the back of the main building where we wouldn't be seen from the road. I parked under a streetlamp that cast a pale yellow puddle of light behind the back door.
As soon as I had the engine turned off, Trisha had her hands in my lap squeezing my dick. I took her face in my hands, pulled her toward me, and kissed her. She returned the kiss, snaking her tongue deep into my mouth. I slid my hands down her neck and let them roam, exploring her firm breasts. She wore no bra beneath her stretchy tank top and, as I caressed her tits, her nipples stiffened under my touch. She moaned into my mouth and broke the kiss.
“Let's step outside, where the light's better” she whispered.
She got out, stood behind the car and turned around. She leaned over slightly, placed her hands on the trunk, and started swaying her hips, slowly flexing her tight ass and leg muscles. Not quite twerking, something more subtle and seductive.
Oh my God, what a beautiful sight. Such a perfect ass. The stuff of wet dreams.
“Damn Trisha, I bet you looked awesome on the volleyball court” I took out my phone and began taking pictures. She looked at me seductively over her shoulder.
“I looked even better in the locker room.” She slowly unfastened her daisy dukes and slid them slowly down ever her firm round butt and long toned legs. She was wearing a black thong. I took a video of her swaying under the glow of the street light, then walked up to her, and set my phone on the trunk. I let my hands wander over her ass and thighs, drinking in the sensation of her soft, warm skin and sensuous curves. She sighed and pushed back towards me, welcoming my touch.
I groped her bottom. As if I could have resisted. The magnetic attraction of her volleyball butt was an order of magnitude more powerful than my willpower. I thrilled in the invitation and drank in the intoxicating sensation of her cheeks, her curves. I explored the magic crevice where her cheeks bracketed her mound. I felt the warm moisture under her thong and pulled it aside. I slid my fingers inside and burrowed into her hot, moist tunnel. She moaned and writhed for a moment, then found her voice.
“Mmmmm Bart, baby, If you're not gonna fuck me...please don't tease me like that.”
“Sorry Trisha, I can't help it. I've gotta get a taste.” My oral sex fetish goes both ways. At that moment my desire to fuck her mouth took a back seat to my desire to explore her most intimate recesses with my lips and tongue.
I knelt behind her, slowly withdrew my fingers from her pussy, groped her cheeks with both hands and dragged my tongue across her derriere. She gasped as I licked and bit at her butt, then dragged my tongue along the bottom of the curve of her glutes towards that wondrous junction where mountains and valleys meet.
She bent forward and spread her legs for me. I took advantage of the opening and snaked my tongue down alongside her mound. She gasped and moaned as I traced my tongue over a ridge and down into the sweet crevice formed by the tender folds of her labia. Instinct drove my face forward as her aroma filled my nostrils and inflamed my passion. I buried my face in her sex and licked at the entrance of her love tunnel. She moaned and wiggled, inviting deeper exploration.
As delightful as that position is, I knew it wouldn't afford the access or oxygen I needed, so I withdrew and commanded her to park her sexy ass on the trunk of the car. She obliged happily, wincing momentarily as her bare warm skin touched the cool metal.
Then I stood up grabbed her thighs and spread them wide.
God, what a sight.
Even under the pale glow of a back alley streetlight, there are few sights as intoxicating as that of a wet, young pussy, glistening inches from your face. I drank in the view and slowly lowered my tongue to drag it around the perimeter of her mound, teasing once again. She moaned an incoherent request and I licked my way gently back to her slick warm lips and sucked them into my mouth, drawing a gasp and a shudder from my horny young passenger.
I took my time licking and sucking on her labia and working my tongue deep into her cleft. She started to tremble and began caressing my head.
“Fuck, that feels sooo good Bart. Please don't stop.”
I slid slowly upwards and sucked her bud into my mouth, spreading her labia apart with my lips and trapping her clit. A few gentle tentative licks sent shivers through her and I knew it wouldn't be long. I savored the moment then began teasing her clit with quick, soft flicks of my tongue. When she started gasping and bucking, I sucked it hard and began thrashing her. She bucked and grunted. I grabbed her ass cheeks, squeezed them hard and gave her my all, sucking and tormenting her clit until she clamped her legs tightly around my head, convulsing and hissing. We rode the wave together and, as the tension seeped out of her body, I planted gentle kisses on her flower.
I helped her down off the car and she landed on wobbly knees. I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply, sharing the flavor of her nectar. She licked the remnant of her juices from my chin, and, gazing steadily into my eyes, slid down into a squatting position between me and the back of the car.
Without another word, she unzipped my pants, and tugged my hard cock out of my jeans. She caressed it lightly with both hands and kissed the head.
“My turn. I can hardly wait to taste you.” She looked up at me, and licked her lips. She pumped it slowly with both hands, pulling the skin taught on my shaft and jerking the head slightly. The image was made more surreal by the soft glow of artificial light. It was exquisite. “Now take a picture for your wife.”
She laid my cock against her cheek. The contrast of my long, brown flesh against her pale skin was enchanting. I snapped a few pics with my phone.
Then she placed her closed lips back against the head and started pumping it more firmly. I reached down and grabbed her long blonde hair and thrust my hips forward. There was a moment of resistance before she yielded and parted her lips as my cock surged into her warm, wet mouth.
She kept a firm grip on my shaft, stroking it in time with her mouth as she sucked and slurped greedily. She used her hands with the skill of a saxophone player, turning them into an extension of her mouth.
“Oh fuck, Trisha, you greedy little cock-sucker!” I hissed as she stroked and sucked like a maestro. She looked up at me brazenly as she worked my cock. There was a fire in her eyes. I don't know if it was pure lust, the thrill of sex in the open air, the risk of being caught, or maybe some genuine affection from the bond we'd made on our journey. Part of me hoped it was the latter, but those concerns quickly melted away in the cauldron of her skill and passion.
I reached down and yanked her tank top upward, exposing her tits to the touch of the cool night air and my rough hands. She moaned around my cock as I kneaded and groped her tits. The vibrations from her moans sent another thrill through me as they resonated from her throat through her lips to my loins.
The added sensations from her music and my hands on her tits made me even harder and my dick throbbed in her mouth.
Damn, I think she's enjoying this almost as much as I am. What an amazing young woman! What an awesome little cock-sucker she is.
I started thrusting deeper, fucking her mouth.
What would Lilly say if she saw me now? Would she join us, or just lie back and enjoy the show?
I remembered the phone and picked it up again, held it out to the side and took more pictures. Then switched to video and shot a few short clips of this beautiful young blonde sucking my dick like a porn star.
That seemed to encourage her exhibitionism and she pulled my pants halfway down, and dipped her head down and started fondling and licking my balls with one hand and stroking my cock with the other. She looked right at the phone as I took more pics of her licking my balls.
“m0ther fuck! Where did you learn to suck cock like that, Baby?”
She gave me a fierce look and pulled her mouth away. She kept stroking and teasing, as if it were the most natural thing for her hands to be doing. She smiled mischievously at me and said, “You might say I was born to it. Being a greedy cock-sucker is in my DNA".
“Then you are a young woman of excellent heritage, and I am honored to make your acquaintance.”
I re-positioned the phone above her and shoved my cock back in her mouth. I held her hair in my left hand and used her inviting young mouth like a pussy, fucking her pretty face with pure a****l lust. She sensed when I was about to cum, gripped my shaft firmly with both hands and pumped it vigorously. She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks willing me to the point of no return. I released her hair, used both hands to steady the phone. She looked up at me, eyes glazed over with lust and parted her lips.
My knees started to buckle as I grunted and let go, firing into her mouth. She took it in stride and kept stroking. She caught several volleys in her mouth, then started swirling her fingers around the head, casually coating them with the thick, pungent cream. I struggled to steady the camera, capturing the surreal scene on vdeo as I watched my semen disappear into her mouth and accumulate on her fingers, lips, and chin.
“Holy shit, Trisha” – I gasped, as I stopped filming and set the phone down and tried to gather my senses – “I think you're heading in the wrong direction. You could make a fortune in Hollywood as a porn star. Lisa Ann's got nothin' on you.”
“Aww, thanks Bart, that's sweet. You're not just saying that, are you?”
“Definitely not. Wait a minute. You know who Lisa Ann is?”
“Hard-bodied brunette, fake tits? Looks like Sarah Palin?”
“That's her. How do you know Lisa Ann?
“Dude, half my boyfriends jerk off to her videos. I gotta admit, she's hot” – she licked her lips clean – “Mmm, not bad. You don't smoke, do you?”
“Never have. How do you? - Oh. Wow. You are um...wise beyond your years.”
“Yeah, something like that. This ain't my first rodeo. Or my first bj.” she chuckled.
She took her time pumping the last drops from my softening dick and licking her fingers clean.
“I hope you got some good pics. Uh, by the way, those are for you and your wife. Please promise me you won't post them on porn-hub or x-hamster.”
“Scout's honor. I promise.”
“Yeah, you probably were a boy scout. Actually, I'd like a few too. A keepsake of the first leg of my getaway. My first step toward freedom. Let me give you my number so you can send me some.”
She gave me her number. We got dressed and settled back in the car and scrolled through the pics. She found a few she liked and I texted them to her and saved her number in the foolish hope that somehow our paths would cross again.
She told me a little more of her story on the rest of the trip. Her father had left when she was young and her m0ther was apparently quite looker. She'd used her considerable charms finding and auditioning replacements. She finally settled on one and married him. The new guy was a 'take charge', alpha male type. He was strict, but decent enough when he was sober. but when he wasn't, he was all hands. As the years passed and Trisha began to take after her m0ther in more than hair color, his sober days became more scarce.
She had told her m0ther what was happening, but for whatever reason, she wouldn't believe her. Trisha ended up hooking up with boyfriends just to have an excuse to get out of the house. This just made things worse between her and her mom, who took to slut-shaming. Trisha said something about the pot calling the kettle black. As much as she hated being hounded and groped by her stepfather, it was her m0ther's betrayal and hypocrisy that hurt the most.
Once Trisha had saved, borrowed and scrounged up enough cash, she hit the road and ended up in my car, speeding into the unknown, her scholarship and dreams of college abandoned.
I tried again to talk her out of running away, but no nightmare scenario I put in front of her could compare with what lay behind her. I like to think some of what I said got through. I convinced her to accept the rest of my cash to help her on her way, and to allow me to contact her m0ther and let her know that she hadn't been killed or k**napped.
I felt guilty that I couldn't do more. I felt small for having played with her in a parking lot when I should have been taking her to the police station, a foster home, anywhere but a truck stop. But I convinced myself that I had done all I could and that, she wasn't a c***d. She was a grown woman determined to get away from unspeakable abuse. And I was helping her, wasn't I?
As we pulled into the truck stop, she broke my reverie by asking if I had a mint. I gave her my tin of Altoids from the glove compartment.
“Thanks Bart. I think I'll have an easier time getting another ride if I don't have cum breath.” She winked at me.
“True dat” I smiled at her and winked back.
Before she got out, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and asked to borrow my phone again. She entered her m0ther's phone number in my contacts. She made me promise to give her a three-day head start before calling her. Then she got a mischievous twinkle in her eye, added an address and handed it back.
“Is that what I think it is? What do I need this for?”
“I have a feeling Mama will want to thank you in person.”
After she closed the door, she leaned her pretty head back in the window and whispered. “Mama loves dark meat.” Then she winked, flashed me that dazzling smile once more and disappeared into the night.
© SheriffBart 2020. All rights reserved.
Feedback is welcome. Enjoy!
~~~~~ Chapter Two: Trisha ~~~~~~
I'd gone to the local Indian casino on a Friday night hoping to get lucky at the roulette table. The lovely South Asian dealer had taken all my money, but fortune smiled upon me. On my way out of the parking lot, I spotted a tall blond in daisy dukes and a white tank top standing at the side of the road with her thumb out. She had shoulder-length hair and an athletic, curvy figure. I pulled over to offer her a ride, which she accepted enthusiastically.
“Where you headed Miss?”, I asked as she tossed her backpack into the back seat.
“Tulsa please”- she said breathlessly. “Tryin' to get the fuck away from this shit-hole town as far and fast as I can. There's a 'Flying J' truck stop just outside the city. From there, I can get anywhere.”
“Okay. What's your name, Miss?”
“Trisha. Thanks for picking me up sir!”
“My pleasure Trisha. And you can call me Bart.”
“Nice to meet you Bart. And thanks again, I really appreciate it. You have no idea how bad I wanna get outta here.”
“No problem, Trisha. Tulsa huh? Well I'm not really headed that far north” - I cautioned as I pulled onto the highway - “but I've got some time. I didn't have much luck at the Casino, and I've got no plans for the rest of the night. I guess I could take you that far.”
She smiled at me with a charged look in her big blue eyes that I couldn't quite read.
“Well sir – I mean, Bart -- your luck just changed. If you get me to Tulsa, I promise you” - she spread her legs and slid her hands along her thighs - “I'll make it worth your while.”
I struggled to keep my eyes on the road. Her long, shapely legs were a major distraction, even without the suggestive promise. She had the look of a girl who spent a lot of time in the gym.
“Well, that's really not necessary Miss. Trisha. It's no trouble really.”
“Uh, yeah it is. Tulsa's about three hours away isn't it? A hundred fifty miles at least. That's a lotta time and a lotta gas. Besides, I'm okay with it, sir. I know the rules.”
“Bart. Not 'sir'. And what rules are those?”
“Sorry, si- Bart. I was raised to respect my elders. Southern charm and all that. And, according to the bumper stickers I've seen” -- she said with a glamorous smile -- “the rules are, ass, cash, or grass - nobody rides for free. Well, I don't do grass and I can't spare the cash. So...”
“Holy shit” I muttered. I had no intention of taking advantage of a young girl in trouble, but how often does a guy get a chance like this? My pulse quickened as I considered her invitation.
“Well, you do have gorgeous legs, Trisha. Are you a cheerleader? You have that look.”
“What look?” – she teased. “Long legs, tight ass, long blonde hair?” She turned towards me, cupped her tits, and arched her chest toward me. “Firm, bouncy boobs?”
“Well, yeah, now that you -”
“Big blue eyes, big smile” – her voice rose to a high-pitched parody of a Barbie doll – “big team spirit, empty head?”
“Uh no! No, I -”
“No thanks, I'd rather be a quadriplegic than bounce around hopping and smiling like some...some mindless fuck-toy! I can think of about a million things I'd rather be than arm candy for some dumb jock.”
“Good for you!” I tried to deflect her indignation. As uncomfortable as it was thinking I'd offended my sexy guest, hearing her echo one of my pet peeves was a pleasant surprise. This girl seemed more engaging by the minute.
“I've never understood the appeal of that” – I continued – “I mean, why do we even still need cheerleaders in the 21st century? It's sexist and archaic. Not to mention stupid.”
“I know, right?”, she crowed. “Buncha fuckin' brain dead bimbos!”
“Well, I mean.. I don't mean stupid”, I hedged. “I'm sure they're not all really stupid. It just looks so silly.” I tried to balance my honest contempt for cheerleaders with a little tact, but Trisha would have none of it.
“No, trust me, Bart. They're stupid. Rock, fucking dumb!”
I burst out laughing and my guffaw proved contagious.
“Bouncy Barbie bimbos! Look at me, I'm so full of team spirit I might just explode” – she squeaked in her faux Barbie voice.
We laughed together and I relaxed and shared my favorite cheerleader story.
“I remember one day, when I was in college, I was walking down to the McDonald's a few blocks from campus. Along came this giggling, bouncing, knot of cheerleaders. They were all dressed up, miniskirts, pom-poms, the whole shebang. There was no game anywhere. They were bouncing down the sidewalk in the middle of the afternoon, cheering and shouting like they were on the fifty yard line. I thought, 'What the hell are they cheering for? These are college aged women, hopping down the sidewalk like a bunch of six-year old girls. Can they possibly be that stupid? Of course that was uh... a few years ago. Maybe things have changed since then.”
“Trust me Bart, nothing's changed. They still do that. Bouncing, cheering and waving pom-poms, like they're always center-court with the whole world watching them. Jumping and twirling. Ugh” She paused a moment and looked out the window, shaking her head.
“And spreading their legs. Spreading their fucking legs! On the field, on the sidelines...under the bleachers, on the back of the bus, in the locker room. Spreading their legs, for the boys. Spreading their legs is what they do best Bart. Not that you can blame them. That's that they've been taught since they were, what six? This is what we teach women when we put cheerleaders at every sporting event. The boys take the field and impress the crowd with their...their strength and skill. And strategy. The girls stand on the sidelines, look pretty, and cheer the men on. They smile and shake their cute little pom-poms, and jump up and down, and spread their legs for the boys. For the fans! For fucking everybody!”
“You know what that says to little girls Bart? It says, 'look girls, you want to be a success? Do you want everybody to see you and love you? If you want to matter, just spread your legs and make everybody happy!' How fucked up is that?”
“Damn Trisha, you're right. That's pretty keen insight. I never thought of it like that. As much as I despise the mindless zeal of cheerleaders, that really is what we teach little girls. At least on some level. That is fucked up. Look, I'm sorry Trisha, I didn't mean to imply that you were anything like that, I just ”--
“Hey, no, it's okay. Really. I get that a lot. I think I have half a brain, but I do have the look. Blonde hair blue eyes...hot bod” She smiled at me.
“True dat” I smiled back.
“But not from doing splits on the fifty yard line. These fine legs and sexy ass are from volleyball” – she said with a bit of pride, as she stretched her sexy legs and placed her feet on the dash. She paused to admire them and once again stroked her thighs with a mixture of satisfaction and invitation.
“Three years of volleyball gives you cheerleader legs and an ass that looks awesome in hot pants. Google 'volleyball shorts' and you'll see what I mean.”
“Ha! Been there, done that. Got the hard-on.”
“I'll bet!” – she laughed. Then, still stroking her thighs invitingly, she added - “Hmm, I think I'd like to see that, Bart.”
I felt heat rush to my face and blood to my groin. “I'll bet you would, Trisha.” I glanced over at her and she was staring at my crotch, smiling at the bulge she'd raised in my jeans.
“I really would like to see your wood, Bart.” Her girlish voice d****d a lace-thin veneer of innocence over the womanly desire burning in her eyes.
“And I would love to get a better look at your sexy ass. I guess you could say I've always been an 'ass man'. The sight of a healthy woman with wide hips and a firm, round butt is one of the finest things in life.”
“Well sir, that can be arranged. I'm sure you'll approve. Three years of drills, squats, and lunges, and two years competing in UIL playoffs gave me a butt you can bounce a quarter off of. We damn near won state, but our team captain blew out her knee. I may look like a cheerleader, but I'm not. I'm an athlete, not a fucking sideshow.”
She grew quiet and stared out the window.
“At least I was. I got a full scholarship offer from Southeastern. That was gonna be my ticket out. I was all set. All I had to do was make it through my senior year, get a summer job, and I'd be done and out of that shit-hole, far away from...”
She was silent for a long time. I thought I heard sniffling. As I glanced over, she wiped at her eyes and looked back my way.
“Not anymore. Now I guess I'm a just what my Mama said I'd be. She'll be so happy that she was right about me after all. I'll be just what she always said. Just another whore on the street.”
“Hey, come on, now, that's not true” I said gently. I reached over and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“If it wasn't true Bart, I wouldn't be in your car and I wouldn't be planning to pay for my getaway fare by fucking you, now would I?”
The electric look in her eyes silenced any further affirmation of virtue from either of us. Suddenly I felt like dirt.
“But...but if you've earned a scholarship, there must be some way to get away to college and start over. You'll be in Durant, right? You'll be far away from -”
“Not far enough. Not from him. He'll come get me. On weekends. He's got it all planned. Living on campus is too expensive, he says. I'm supposed.. I'm supposed to come home on the weekends so we can save on room and board. He'll come get me, and bring me home. And I'll be fucking trapped. And he'll do it over and over again until there's nothing left. Then I'll be just like her, and I can't. ... I just can't.”
Her head dropped and her shoulders rocked with silent sobs. I went cold inside. I felt small and powerless.
“Who, Trisha? Who'll come and get you?”
“My sleazy, fucking stepfather. He's a worthless piece of shit. Mom won't listen to me, he's got her wrapped around his tattooed fingers. He knows she won't listen, so he fuckin' does – he does whatever he wants. Perverted bastard even got a Batman tattoo on his pubes to show me what a 'badass' he thinks he is.”
Then she raised her head, blinked away the tears and found her voice.
“That's why I'm leaving. I have to. I've got to get away and start my own life. I hate to leave her behind with him, but I. Have. To. Get. Out."
She took a deep breath, turned to me and smiled sweetly. "And you're helping me. And I thank you.”
I reached over and stroked her hair unsure of what to do or say.
“I'm so sorry, Trisha. I wish...I wish I could do more.”
“I know. Its okay. I'll be fine.”
She took my hand and held it to her cheek for a moment, then kissed it. “You're a good guy, Bart. A good man.”
“Now, I don't know about that. I " --
“I do. I have a feeling about guys. Y'know, most guys would have pulled over and fucked me silly by now. You're still driving me to Tulsa and trying to talk me out of running away. And, I know it's not because you don't want some of this. I saw you checkin' out my legs. I saw what it did to you, when I was talking about my tight, sexy ass.”
She reached over and slid her hand across my lap. My dick had wilted, but her touch restored it to painful hardness in an instant.
“Like I said sir, I'll make it worth your while. You can still get lucky tonight.”
My heart was beating like a jackhammer and it took all my self-control to keep my eyes on the road. “Look, Trisha, you're right. You are a gorgeous, sexy, smart young woman. And besides finding an alternative to you being a runaway, there's nothing I'd rather do right now than pull over, and bend you over this car...”
She squeezed my cock and purred. “Mmm, now that's what I'm talking about. Gimme that bbc, baby.”
I took a deep breath and offered up my last hope for salvaging my decency. “But here's the thing. I'm married. That may not mean anything to you, and it wouldn't to most men in this situation. But not only am I married, but I'm in an open marriage. My wife and I are polyamorous. That means –“
“Perfect! That means you can fuck me and nobody gets butt-hurt over it. Let's find a place to pull over.”
“That means --” I continued – “that we have rules. And one of those rules is, we don't have unprotected sex with strangers - with anyone without prior agreement. And, unfortunately, I don't happen to have any condoms on me. So, as gorgeous and sexy and...willing as you are, I'm going to have to pass.”
I breathed a sigh of relief tinged with regret. I knew I was doing the right thing, but I also knew I was sure as hell going to regret it later.
“Hmmm. Well that's cool, I can respect that, I guess.” The seductive purr had faded from her voice and I started to relax.
“So you and your wife fuck other people, right Bart?”
“Uh, yeah.” I was relieved to change the subject. Talking about my wife was usually the perfect antidote for overly amorous women. “We've been poly for almost three years now. It's a blast. But, like I said we have –“
“So she wouldn't be butt-hurt about you fucking a 19-year old?”
“Hell no!” – I laughed – “One of her dates last year was only 22. Younger than our son. But, like I said –“
“Okay, tell ya what, Bart " – the feline purr was back in her throat and my heart started pounding again – “We don't have to fuck. But I was dead serious when I said I would like to see your wood. I'm gonna find us a nice place to pull over – ” she started stroking my hard-on through my pants – “and I'm gonna give you a proper thank you. I'm also gonna borrow your phone, and we'll take some nice pics of me sucking your big, black cock and send some to your wife. But you gotta promise to send me one too, to remember you by.”
My heart pounded. My dick strained in my jeans. I was trapped and thrilled. There was nothing more to say. Instead of protesting further, I signaled my surrender by caressing her wrist, dragging my fingers lightly up her arm, and back down until my hand was resting on top of hers. She recognized my silent surrender and gave me a firm squeeze .
Then she used her phone to find an industrial park along our route and gave me directions. I gave up all pretense of restraint and started stroking her left thigh. As we exited the highway, she applied fresh lipstick and brushed her hair.
We turned into the industrial park. It was a fairly small one with just a few commercial buildings in a wooded area. There was no one there late on a Friday night, but the area was well lit. So I drove around to the back of the main building where we wouldn't be seen from the road. I parked under a streetlamp that cast a pale yellow puddle of light behind the back door.
As soon as I had the engine turned off, Trisha had her hands in my lap squeezing my dick. I took her face in my hands, pulled her toward me, and kissed her. She returned the kiss, snaking her tongue deep into my mouth. I slid my hands down her neck and let them roam, exploring her firm breasts. She wore no bra beneath her stretchy tank top and, as I caressed her tits, her nipples stiffened under my touch. She moaned into my mouth and broke the kiss.
“Let's step outside, where the light's better” she whispered.
She got out, stood behind the car and turned around. She leaned over slightly, placed her hands on the trunk, and started swaying her hips, slowly flexing her tight ass and leg muscles. Not quite twerking, something more subtle and seductive.
Oh my God, what a beautiful sight. Such a perfect ass. The stuff of wet dreams.
“Damn Trisha, I bet you looked awesome on the volleyball court” I took out my phone and began taking pictures. She looked at me seductively over her shoulder.
“I looked even better in the locker room.” She slowly unfastened her daisy dukes and slid them slowly down ever her firm round butt and long toned legs. She was wearing a black thong. I took a video of her swaying under the glow of the street light, then walked up to her, and set my phone on the trunk. I let my hands wander over her ass and thighs, drinking in the sensation of her soft, warm skin and sensuous curves. She sighed and pushed back towards me, welcoming my touch.
I groped her bottom. As if I could have resisted. The magnetic attraction of her volleyball butt was an order of magnitude more powerful than my willpower. I thrilled in the invitation and drank in the intoxicating sensation of her cheeks, her curves. I explored the magic crevice where her cheeks bracketed her mound. I felt the warm moisture under her thong and pulled it aside. I slid my fingers inside and burrowed into her hot, moist tunnel. She moaned and writhed for a moment, then found her voice.
“Mmmmm Bart, baby, If you're not gonna fuck me...please don't tease me like that.”
“Sorry Trisha, I can't help it. I've gotta get a taste.” My oral sex fetish goes both ways. At that moment my desire to fuck her mouth took a back seat to my desire to explore her most intimate recesses with my lips and tongue.
I knelt behind her, slowly withdrew my fingers from her pussy, groped her cheeks with both hands and dragged my tongue across her derriere. She gasped as I licked and bit at her butt, then dragged my tongue along the bottom of the curve of her glutes towards that wondrous junction where mountains and valleys meet.
She bent forward and spread her legs for me. I took advantage of the opening and snaked my tongue down alongside her mound. She gasped and moaned as I traced my tongue over a ridge and down into the sweet crevice formed by the tender folds of her labia. Instinct drove my face forward as her aroma filled my nostrils and inflamed my passion. I buried my face in her sex and licked at the entrance of her love tunnel. She moaned and wiggled, inviting deeper exploration.
As delightful as that position is, I knew it wouldn't afford the access or oxygen I needed, so I withdrew and commanded her to park her sexy ass on the trunk of the car. She obliged happily, wincing momentarily as her bare warm skin touched the cool metal.
Then I stood up grabbed her thighs and spread them wide.
God, what a sight.
Even under the pale glow of a back alley streetlight, there are few sights as intoxicating as that of a wet, young pussy, glistening inches from your face. I drank in the view and slowly lowered my tongue to drag it around the perimeter of her mound, teasing once again. She moaned an incoherent request and I licked my way gently back to her slick warm lips and sucked them into my mouth, drawing a gasp and a shudder from my horny young passenger.
I took my time licking and sucking on her labia and working my tongue deep into her cleft. She started to tremble and began caressing my head.
“Fuck, that feels sooo good Bart. Please don't stop.”
I slid slowly upwards and sucked her bud into my mouth, spreading her labia apart with my lips and trapping her clit. A few gentle tentative licks sent shivers through her and I knew it wouldn't be long. I savored the moment then began teasing her clit with quick, soft flicks of my tongue. When she started gasping and bucking, I sucked it hard and began thrashing her. She bucked and grunted. I grabbed her ass cheeks, squeezed them hard and gave her my all, sucking and tormenting her clit until she clamped her legs tightly around my head, convulsing and hissing. We rode the wave together and, as the tension seeped out of her body, I planted gentle kisses on her flower.
I helped her down off the car and she landed on wobbly knees. I pulled her to me and kissed her deeply, sharing the flavor of her nectar. She licked the remnant of her juices from my chin, and, gazing steadily into my eyes, slid down into a squatting position between me and the back of the car.
Without another word, she unzipped my pants, and tugged my hard cock out of my jeans. She caressed it lightly with both hands and kissed the head.
“My turn. I can hardly wait to taste you.” She looked up at me, and licked her lips. She pumped it slowly with both hands, pulling the skin taught on my shaft and jerking the head slightly. The image was made more surreal by the soft glow of artificial light. It was exquisite. “Now take a picture for your wife.”
She laid my cock against her cheek. The contrast of my long, brown flesh against her pale skin was enchanting. I snapped a few pics with my phone.
Then she placed her closed lips back against the head and started pumping it more firmly. I reached down and grabbed her long blonde hair and thrust my hips forward. There was a moment of resistance before she yielded and parted her lips as my cock surged into her warm, wet mouth.
She kept a firm grip on my shaft, stroking it in time with her mouth as she sucked and slurped greedily. She used her hands with the skill of a saxophone player, turning them into an extension of her mouth.
“Oh fuck, Trisha, you greedy little cock-sucker!” I hissed as she stroked and sucked like a maestro. She looked up at me brazenly as she worked my cock. There was a fire in her eyes. I don't know if it was pure lust, the thrill of sex in the open air, the risk of being caught, or maybe some genuine affection from the bond we'd made on our journey. Part of me hoped it was the latter, but those concerns quickly melted away in the cauldron of her skill and passion.
I reached down and yanked her tank top upward, exposing her tits to the touch of the cool night air and my rough hands. She moaned around my cock as I kneaded and groped her tits. The vibrations from her moans sent another thrill through me as they resonated from her throat through her lips to my loins.
The added sensations from her music and my hands on her tits made me even harder and my dick throbbed in her mouth.
Damn, I think she's enjoying this almost as much as I am. What an amazing young woman! What an awesome little cock-sucker she is.
I started thrusting deeper, fucking her mouth.
What would Lilly say if she saw me now? Would she join us, or just lie back and enjoy the show?
I remembered the phone and picked it up again, held it out to the side and took more pictures. Then switched to video and shot a few short clips of this beautiful young blonde sucking my dick like a porn star.
That seemed to encourage her exhibitionism and she pulled my pants halfway down, and dipped her head down and started fondling and licking my balls with one hand and stroking my cock with the other. She looked right at the phone as I took more pics of her licking my balls.
“m0ther fuck! Where did you learn to suck cock like that, Baby?”
She gave me a fierce look and pulled her mouth away. She kept stroking and teasing, as if it were the most natural thing for her hands to be doing. She smiled mischievously at me and said, “You might say I was born to it. Being a greedy cock-sucker is in my DNA".
“Then you are a young woman of excellent heritage, and I am honored to make your acquaintance.”
I re-positioned the phone above her and shoved my cock back in her mouth. I held her hair in my left hand and used her inviting young mouth like a pussy, fucking her pretty face with pure a****l lust. She sensed when I was about to cum, gripped my shaft firmly with both hands and pumped it vigorously. She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks willing me to the point of no return. I released her hair, used both hands to steady the phone. She looked up at me, eyes glazed over with lust and parted her lips.
My knees started to buckle as I grunted and let go, firing into her mouth. She took it in stride and kept stroking. She caught several volleys in her mouth, then started swirling her fingers around the head, casually coating them with the thick, pungent cream. I struggled to steady the camera, capturing the surreal scene on vdeo as I watched my semen disappear into her mouth and accumulate on her fingers, lips, and chin.
“Holy shit, Trisha” – I gasped, as I stopped filming and set the phone down and tried to gather my senses – “I think you're heading in the wrong direction. You could make a fortune in Hollywood as a porn star. Lisa Ann's got nothin' on you.”
“Aww, thanks Bart, that's sweet. You're not just saying that, are you?”
“Definitely not. Wait a minute. You know who Lisa Ann is?”
“Hard-bodied brunette, fake tits? Looks like Sarah Palin?”
“That's her. How do you know Lisa Ann?
“Dude, half my boyfriends jerk off to her videos. I gotta admit, she's hot” – she licked her lips clean – “Mmm, not bad. You don't smoke, do you?”
“Never have. How do you? - Oh. Wow. You are um...wise beyond your years.”
“Yeah, something like that. This ain't my first rodeo. Or my first bj.” she chuckled.
She took her time pumping the last drops from my softening dick and licking her fingers clean.
“I hope you got some good pics. Uh, by the way, those are for you and your wife. Please promise me you won't post them on porn-hub or x-hamster.”
“Scout's honor. I promise.”
“Yeah, you probably were a boy scout. Actually, I'd like a few too. A keepsake of the first leg of my getaway. My first step toward freedom. Let me give you my number so you can send me some.”
She gave me her number. We got dressed and settled back in the car and scrolled through the pics. She found a few she liked and I texted them to her and saved her number in the foolish hope that somehow our paths would cross again.
She told me a little more of her story on the rest of the trip. Her father had left when she was young and her m0ther was apparently quite looker. She'd used her considerable charms finding and auditioning replacements. She finally settled on one and married him. The new guy was a 'take charge', alpha male type. He was strict, but decent enough when he was sober. but when he wasn't, he was all hands. As the years passed and Trisha began to take after her m0ther in more than hair color, his sober days became more scarce.
She had told her m0ther what was happening, but for whatever reason, she wouldn't believe her. Trisha ended up hooking up with boyfriends just to have an excuse to get out of the house. This just made things worse between her and her mom, who took to slut-shaming. Trisha said something about the pot calling the kettle black. As much as she hated being hounded and groped by her stepfather, it was her m0ther's betrayal and hypocrisy that hurt the most.
Once Trisha had saved, borrowed and scrounged up enough cash, she hit the road and ended up in my car, speeding into the unknown, her scholarship and dreams of college abandoned.
I tried again to talk her out of running away, but no nightmare scenario I put in front of her could compare with what lay behind her. I like to think some of what I said got through. I convinced her to accept the rest of my cash to help her on her way, and to allow me to contact her m0ther and let her know that she hadn't been killed or k**napped.
I felt guilty that I couldn't do more. I felt small for having played with her in a parking lot when I should have been taking her to the police station, a foster home, anywhere but a truck stop. But I convinced myself that I had done all I could and that, she wasn't a c***d. She was a grown woman determined to get away from unspeakable abuse. And I was helping her, wasn't I?
As we pulled into the truck stop, she broke my reverie by asking if I had a mint. I gave her my tin of Altoids from the glove compartment.
“Thanks Bart. I think I'll have an easier time getting another ride if I don't have cum breath.” She winked at me.
“True dat” I smiled at her and winked back.
Before she got out, she gave me a kiss on the cheek and asked to borrow my phone again. She entered her m0ther's phone number in my contacts. She made me promise to give her a three-day head start before calling her. Then she got a mischievous twinkle in her eye, added an address and handed it back.
“Is that what I think it is? What do I need this for?”
“I have a feeling Mama will want to thank you in person.”
After she closed the door, she leaned her pretty head back in the window and whispered. “Mama loves dark meat.” Then she winked, flashed me that dazzling smile once more and disappeared into the night.
Arisha
- 11.07.2020
- 6
- 0
