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Daydream Believer: A Very Short Story
I was just 100 miles from my final destination, a cross country trip by automobile from New York to LA.
As I pulled out on the freeway from the roadside gas station, there stood a mirage in a tank top and cut off jeans. I braked immediately.
"How far you going?" she asked.
"End of the road, Los Angeles," I replied. "And you?"
"The same. Mind if I get a ride all the way with you?"
"Sure, climb in. Put your back pack in the back seat."
"Your lucky," I told her. "I don't usually pick up hitchhikers. How did you get stuck way out here?"
"I'm a runaway," she said laughingly.
"I thought runaways were 12 year old kids running away from their parents," I said jokingly.
"Well I'm a 36 year old parent running away from my kids. You'll find out what I mean one of these days," as she glanced down at my seven month pregnant belly.
I reprimanded her. "You know how dangerous it is to hitchhike dressed like you're dressed. I bet every lecher on the rode offered you a ride."
"Your right," she said. "And your the first woman to pick me up."
She saw me twitch in my seat. "Baby kicking," I whispered. "Active this time of day."
"Can I feel," as her hand slid under my smock to my bare belly.
I knew instantly she wasn't feeling for a baby to kick. I glanced at her eyes submissively as her fingers snaked under the elastic of my slacks. No foreplay. Fingers straight to my aching pussy.
As my pregnant thighs parted her fingers found my swollen clit, flicking it gently, sending juices flowing into my white cotton panties.
An orgasm racked my body. My eyes closed momentarily, but quickly opened and back on the road. I grasped the sticky steering wheel and looked around. She was gone.
Damn mirage. She didn't even kiss me good-bye.