Director Jekyll & Ms. Hidesnothing Ch. 01

We were about an hour south of Macon when Heather pulled out the directions she had gotten from her friend John. It had been a while since either of us had visited his ranch, and Heather said he had changed the entrance in order to keep out the public. Looking at the directions she told me we needed to turn off at the next exit.

My mind was more attentive on imagining the male eyes watching my wife at the party, knowing she would be the hottest and most desirable girl present. I was painfully aware of the growing hardness between my legs as my mind drifted to further fantasies of her with other men.

I was lost so in my reverie I became startled when Heather suddenly said, "Tim, this is where we turn off!"

The exit did not look familiar, but having not been here in some time and with the change of the route, Heather was the designated navigator with the directions. Pulling off the exit I noticed it was all farmland—not even a corner store or any indication of a gas station or other business.

"How far is it?" I asked, looking down at the gas gauge. "We probably want to find some gas and fill up before we head into the back roads to John's ranch," I told her.

"Oh don't worry," Heather replied back to me, anxious to get to the party. "John told me he had a small gas station built right near his ranch so we can fill up the SUV for free when we get there," she smiled at me, reaching down and slowly rubbing my crotch.

I was so taken with her smile, her sexy attire, and the feel of her hand through my pants I dumbly agreed with her and continued driving, ignoring the low fuel warning light.

Heather continued giving directions as we turned on to a dirt road as she abstractedly rub my crotch, my mind taken by the slow sensation of her hands on me instead of watching the road.

After a while we had made several odd turns and I asked if we were lost. Heather smiled, "Don't worry; John's directions are pretty clear. He had a new road put in and made it pretty roundabout to keep the public away from his little hidey hole," she explained. "The route is convoluted, which is why he sent out new directions. We should be there soon," Heather replied as she turned towards me, my eyes drifting to her partially exposed breasts, admiring the view.

She looked beautiful, and I could not help but let my imagination drift again, wondering what she would look like being fucked by another man. I was more focused on Heather's body and gentle massage of my crotch than the dirt road as she continued to give directions. We made several turns onto various other dirt roads, driving deeper and deeper into the Georgia countryside, and a part of my mind was thankful having an SUV, but my attention was predominately riveted on her. I did notice passing fewer and fewer residences and knew must be getting close to John's ranch, as it too was pretty isolated.

Suddenly my reverie was broken by the car jerking a few times and the engine sputtering. Looking alarmingly at the gas gauge I realized we were out of gas! I had totally forgotten about it, being so caught up by Heather's hands on me.

"Shit honey, we're out of gas," I told her, coasting over to the side of the road and stopping the car. "Hell, I'm not familiar with this area, I'm not sure where there's a gas station or even which direction," I said.

Heather laughed, "Oh sure, that's a good excuse, running out of gas," she said. "Quit fooling around and let's get to the party, you can ogle my body all you want and more when we get there," she grinned.

I looked at her and pointed to the gas gauge as her eyes got wider, realizing I was telling the truth.

"Shit," she said, and then shrugged, the movement causing her breasts to rise and fall, catching my eye. "I'm sorry honey, I owe you an apology for telling you not to stop earlier," she said with a small frown.

I could not blame Heather, as neither of us knew the new route to John's house and told her it was not her fault, leaning over and giving her a soft kiss. Heather returned the kiss, her tongue sliding across my lips and it felt like we were in high school necking in the car. I stared into her beautiful green eyes as the kiss turned into something more passionate.

Reaching up, I gently cupped her breast but she pulled away. "Now now dear, let's worry about getting to the party before we get a bit carried away," she chuckled.

I knew she was right, but she was looking so hot in her farmer's daughter outfit I wanted her right then and there.

Finally settling on the situation at hand, I pulled out my cell phone. Hitting the number in my contacts for AAA, I put the phone to my ear to only h ear silence. Looking at the phone, I saw no bars, my stomach sinking. Showing Heather, she pulled out her phone, which also was receiving absolutely no reception.

"We should not have to wait too long," she reasoned. "There should be plenty of people coming to John's party, so we should see some traffic eventually."

I agreed with her, admiring how her business mind focused on the more practical side of things as we sat and waited.

Unfortunately, if you have ever been to South Georgia in the late summer you know sitting inside a parked car is not the most pleasant of experiences. After 15 minutes, even with all the windows rolled down, we had to get out of the car to try and cool down. Heather still had a couple wine coolers left which we shared. In anticipation for the food at the party, we had not eaten that morning, and the alcohol was giving us both a good buzz.

After an hour on the roadside and the last of the wine coolers finished, we were both feeling miserable. Although uncomfortable, I could not keep my eyes from Heather whose body glistened with a thin sheen of perspiration. Her top was completely wet with sweat and hugged her breasts like a second skin. She was looking so good I could barely wait to get her into one of the stalls at the barn and fuck her silly—in the air conditioned barn I lamented.

Several times I tried calling AAA and John on the cell phone, but again received nothing but silence. Heather kept reasoning there would undoubtedly be people coming down this road since John had given the directions, and we should wait it out.

"John won't answer the phone with the party going on anyways," she explained. "And by the time triple A arrives we'll probably have seen a group of cars down this road and already be on our way to a gas station."

I could not dispute her logic as we continued to wait in the hot Georgia sun.

I was almost dozing off from the hot day when the sound of a vehicle with no muffler came through the trees. Instead of coming from the direction of the highway we had driven from, the sound was coming from the opposite direction, but in our current predicament we were not picky as we prepared to flag down the oncoming vehicle. The sound of the muffler-less exhaust got louder and louder, and eventually we saw a truck come over the hill, a large cloud of dust billowing behind it from the dirt road. It was an old red flatbed Ford pickup, circa late 1960's, and seeing the run-down condition, knew it was a local resident and not anybody associated with the party; however, at this point we could care less.

As the truck came closer I saw two people in the cab, the back of the truck empty except for a few square bales of hay. Waving our hands to catch the driver's attention, the truck slowed down and pulled in front of our SUV.

Walking to the opened window on the driver's side, I saw two men, obviously local farmers or hired hands. Both were wearing denim coveralls, considerably more worn than the ones I was wearing. With the summer heat neither was wearing shirts—unlike me who unfortunately had on a thin flannel shirt, expecting to have been in an air conditioned barn. I noticed each was well-muscled, their bodies covered in grime and sweat confirming my suspicion they were likely hired hands. The driver was wearing an old, faded black cowboy hat over his dark brown sweat-soaked head while the passenger had on a frayed, sweat-soaked baseball hat, curls of his blonde hair peeking out from beneath the hat and matted to his brow with sweat.

Introducing myself and Heather, I explained to them our predicament waving to the SUV where Heather was standing and asked if they knew of a gas station nearby. Neither replied, and as I turned to look back at them saw both staring blatantly at Heather, their mouths hanging open. Glancing back at her I understood their stares, again admiring her long smooth legs, flat stomach, and perfect figure. In the late afternoon sun her body was shining with sweat, most of her skin exposed, her sweat-soaked shirt clinging to her breasts and doing nothing to hide her figure.

I cleared my throat to get their attention and the driver turned to me blushing. "Well shucks Mister," he said apologetically in the deepest Southern drawl I had ever heard, "Yer missus sho is purty," he said as he glanced back at Heather.

The guy in the passenger seat had not broken his gaze and continued to stare in wonder out the window at my wife. I could not argue with his comment, nor blame them for looking at her, instead explaining again how we had run out of gas and asking if they knew of a gas station, trying to get their attention off Heather.

Barely giving me any notice, both men suddenly got out of the truck, literally ignoring me as they walked towards Heather. They were both several inches taller than me, and with their grimy well-muscled physiques I began to feel vulnerable as I realized they could easily beat the crap out of me. We were out in the middle of nowhere on the side of a dirt road in the deep South with two strange guys we did not know from Adam. Although I should have told them to continue on their way, I again recalled not seeing a house for miles and the lack of traffic on the road, resigning myself to ask for their help as I looked towards my scantily clad wife being ogled by the two country bumpkins.

Standing next to her, the guy from the passenger side of the truck took off his baseball cap, his sun-bleached blonde hair plastered to his head as he apologized to Heather, "Sorry fer staring ma'am, we just ain't seen such a purty girl 'round these here parts afore," he explained to her, wiping sweat from his head. "My name's Bobby and this here's my brother Billy," he introduced themselves, talking more to Heather than me; I seemed to be forgotten behind them as they continued to openly stare at my wife's body.

Heather smiled, thanking him for the compliment as she told him it was no problem. She repeated what I had said about running out of gas and this time the driver—Billy based on the introductions—answered, also taking off his hat to Heather.

"Well sure ma'am, there's a fillin' station 'bout half hour down the road. Shucks, we'd be happy to take y'all there if y'all need a lift," he smiled, his dark brown hair waving in the slight breeze.

Heather gave one of her dazzling smiles as she placed her hand on Billy's bare shoulder, telling him it would be great if they could take us BOTH there to get gas for the SUV.

Heather must have felt as vulnerable as I did as she stressed the word "both" glancing at me standing behind them, giving a quick wink as I suddenly realized she was doing what she did best, flirting and manipulating men. Billy stared mesmerized at the well-manicured hand on his bare shoulder and I noticed for the first time Heather had painted her nails to match the red of her outfit.

I knew what she was doing and had mixed feelings. As I mentioned, Heather is a master manipulating men through flirting; however, typically was in a business scenario, not with total backwoods strangers while stranded in the remote country of South Georgia. I had visions of being murdered and my wife raped, scenes of the movie Deliverance coming to my head.

Yet at the same time, seeing their eyes literally drinking in Heather's beauty, I felt an odd sense of excitement as well, as I usually do when watching her flirt.

I gave her a quick nod of acquiescence to indicate I understood, seeing both men's gazes move down her arm, resting on her exposed chest as Billy told her it was perfectly alright, they would be happy to "blige."

Bobby continued staring at Heather's chest, licking his lips like a man thirsting for water as Heather turned and gave him another smile, drawing his attention off her chest. "We really thank you," she continued, starting straight into Bobby's eyes, and then looking as deeply over at Billy. "We'll even show our appreciation by paying you for your troubles and inconvenience," she said.

I shrugged at Heather as she said this, not caring if we spent some cash to get out of here. Hell, it had been our fault, so paying them even a hundred bucks or so to take us to a gas station and back would not be any inconvenience.

"Shucks ma'am, there ain't be no need," Billy said, seeming to be the more talkative of the two as I again noted the thick Southern drawl, "it'd be our pleasure taking such a purty girl sumplace withouts..."

Seeing movement out of my eye, I glanced at Bobby as he cut his brother off, "Yes ma'am, it'd be our pleasure," he said, looking intently at his brother now. "I reckon we can talk payment on our ways to the fillin' station, eh Billy?" he asked his brother carefully, who only nodded.

I again felt an odd fear, wondering if we should rethink their offer, but it was nothing on which I could put my finger on, and Heather broke the moment by slapping her hands together saying, "Great!"

The movement caused her breasts to press together as three pairs of male eyes focused directly on her chest. Not indicating she noticed—and I wondered if she were still playing them—Heather started walking towards the pickup truck as our gazes immediately dropped to her ass swaying with each step away from us.

Both men rushed past me towards Heather as I started to move towards the truck as well. Bobby quickly reached the passenger side and opened the door, motioning to Heather. "Sorry ma'am, there be only room for one of y'all in the front, so hope yur ol' man don't mind sittin' in the back?" he asked.

"Oh, that's alright," Heather said pleasantly, "I'm sure my 'old' man won't mind, would you honey?" she grinned at me.

With her back turned, I saw Bobby looked at Billy with a grin, then back at Heather when she turned back around to move to the side of the truck.

Looking back, I should have had alarm bells going off in my head; however, the "old" comment really got to me. I was only 6-years older than Heather; however, I was prematurely grey and the age thing really bothered me. I had considered getting my hair dyed back to its original color, but Heather always convinced me to keep it, saying she liked the sophisticated look it gave me.

I knew Heather was teasing me when she came over and smiled, giving me a kiss on the cheek as she whispered, "Don't worry hon, I'll keep them in line, and you are NOT old," she said, lightly punching me in the stomach, knowing me better than anybody.

I only half heard her as I saw both guys starting down at Heather's ass, knowing the view they got of the bottom of her ass cheeks when she had reached up to give me the kiss.

Again about to say something, my attention was broken as Heather told both boys it was perfectly fine as she climbed into the truck cab.

I almost laughed aloud as both guys' mouths fell open as Heather's short skirt did little to hide her ass cheeks peeking from beneath her skirt as she climbed up into the truck cab. My wife appeared oblivious to her display as she scooted to the middle of the cab seat and I wondered if she had done it on purpose or really was unaware of her display.

The moment was quickly broken as both guys anxiously climbed into the truck cab, Heather sandwiched between them. Not having anywhere else to go, I moved to the back of the truck and climbed up. I saw the back window was broken out—there was probably not any concern of a truck in this shape being stolen, I mused—so moved a couple of the hay bales to the back of the cab to sit and be able to talk to Heather. The seat was high enough to look over Heather's shoulder and I could see into the cab, noticing the truck was a manual transmission, Heather's tanned and glistening legs straddling the large gearshift.

The truck started and slowly pulled around our car back onto the road. The missing muffler was abysmally loud, especially from outside in the bed of the truck, and although I could hear murmurs of the men talking to Heather, could not hear clearly. I yelled through the window asking Heather if everything was alright and she turned her head smiling at me, yelling she was perfectly fine and we would be at the gas station soon.

They talked and I was resigned to only catching the conversation when Heather occasionally yelled out the window to relay what was said. It was all mundane stuff about the guys' lives explaining they had both lived here all their lives, having quit high school early to help out on the farm. None of this was a surprise recalling their manner of speech, and I nodded, not really caring to hear their life story.

I knew Heather was trying to be cordial, but as I was sitting in the back of the truck, muffler blaring in my ears, I was feeling miserable. The truck had no shocks causing my kidneys to feel like they were knocking against each other, and even the breeze from driving and being outside did little to cool the heat of the sun. I was sweating my ass off and completely miserable. I realized now why the two brothers were not wearing shirts with their coveralls as I considered the same, almost ashamed to do so recalling their well-muscled physiques. To make things even worse, lose hay and dust was swirling everywhere around the back and after a few feeble attempts at wiping it off, gave up as it plastered to my sweat-soaked body.

I felt dumb catching myself looking into the cab to see if there was any air conditioning, knowing full well a truck this old would not have any. As hot as it was outside, I realized the cab could be no better as I recalled sitting in the parked car, and glancing through the window at Heather I saw beads of sweat rolling down her neck.

I again yelled to ask if she were alright and she turned and smiled at me, saying she was merely a hot and things were fine.

With nothing to do, I looked to through the window at Bobby, seeing his eyes fixated on Heather's midsection and even Billy kept glancing down at her chest as they talked. Remembering how much I had been focused on her body instead of driving on the way down, I raised up a bit to look over her shoulder and see how their view was.

As the front of her came into view, I felt my eyes grew wide while my dick instantly hardened. I suddenly recalled Heather was not wearing a bra, and on the bumpy dirt road in a truck with no shocks, her breasts were jiggling and bouncing uncontrollably. My mind flash to times we had made love and how her breasts bounced around similarly and I began getting hard watching the display of soft flesh in front of her. At times her breasts bounced in synch, the fast rise and falling vibrations of flesh intoxicating to the eyes; then the truck would hit an unusually large bump and they would start bouncing in alternating sequence, each one rising and lowering as if dancing to some strange rhythm.

No wonder the guys' eyes were fixated on her chest, thought! To make matters worse, her skin was unbelievably shiny, being soaked with sweat, seeing rivulets of moisture roll down into her cleavage. Without thinking I licked my lips, imagining my tongue moving across her flesh.

Catching movement out of the periphery of my eye, I glanced up and caught Billy staring at me through the rear view mirror, feeling blood flood my face. A small smile came across his face having seen me as transfixed at watching my own wife's unintentional display of flesh. I was embarrassed as I realized he had observed me licking my lips like a wolf in heat as his gaze purposefully moved back down to my wife's fleshy exhibit as if blatantly daring me to intervene. I again looked down at her front, turned on knowing both guys were unashamedly ogling her, realizing I too could not help but admire her body.