How The West Was Wonbylindiana©
She knew her life was over as soon as her car rolled to a stop. Here she was 20, penniless with a car that had just shut down. And in the middle of the desert, no less, right outside a tiny Nevada town called Garva.
Everywhere she looked all she saw was desert sand. The sun was so bright that it hurt her eyes to focus. She kept blinking and shielding her eyes with her hand but it seemed they'd never get adjusted to the glare. The sign on the edge of town announced she was entering Garva, population 15,890. Well, it looked like it would be 15,891 now.
The sign at the highway announced that Scott's Garage was open Monday through Saturday, 9 to 9. It was just her luck that it was Saturday, closing in on 5:00 PM, when she had heard the fatal pop that had meant the end of her classic Chevy. She had also noted that Scott's Garage was at the intersection of Garva Street and Route 519. She was on 519 now but she didn't see any crossroads up ahead. The sign at the exit off the interstate said Garva was two miles up Route 519. She had managed probably about a mile of that coasting before her Chevy had shuddered to a resounding stop.
She had immediately climbed out of the car, hoping to escape the stifling heat, which had swelled upon her as soon as the car had stopped. But she realized the oven heat that bore down on her was a product of the desert, not some torture her bemoaned car had dreamt up for her. So here she was, shielding her eyes looking for some sign of life and breathing extra heavy in the suffocating heat.
The only thing that it had going for it was that it was a dry heat. She had lived through some pretty oppressive summer days back in Jersey but the humidity is what made them so unbearable. Carmen figured she could get used to this dry heat, even come to enjoy it someday when she wasn't standing on the side of the road next to her broken down car looking for life in a desert that apparently had none. If only her car had managed to get her to Vegas, which the signs said was only about 50 miles further down the interstate. But it had seen that sign for Exit 43, Garva and had popped its cork, if it had one.
Carmen had no way of knowing how long she would have to wait for a passing car. Just because Garva seemed to be a nice sized town didn't mean it would get much traffic coming off the interstate.
She was a tiny thing, long blonde hair and big blue eyes, just like her mama.
She hadn't seen her daddy since he split town when she was five. Mom always said if you want to find your daddy, look for where the poker tables are. You are sure to find him. She hadn't been aiming for Vegas in hopes of finding him even though the thought of it had been held in the back of her head. She was actually headed to LA, bright lights and big city. She wanted to be a star.
Her cell phone quietly beeped that it was not getting a signal. No surprise there. She wondered if it would be wiser to stay with the car or set out. She decided to set out. All of her worldly possessions were inside that car so she carefully rolled up the windows and locked all the doors before she began to stroll down the road toward the city of Garva.
Her car was still in sight behind her when a pickup truck rolled to a stop in front of her on the shoulder. She walked up the side of it cautiously, unsure of whom she would encounter. She lifted her chin long enough to gaze upon the face of a woman.
"Howdy. I'm Amy Scott of Scott's Garage. That your car I passed by?" the woman asked Carmen in the tone of a southern woman of great pride. Amy had long dark hair that was tied back and away from her face in a ponytail that fell down neatly between her shoulder blades to dance across her back. She wore a sleeveless t-shirt in startling white with cut off blue jeans shorts.
Carmen thought it must be the uniform of the desert since she was wearing just about the same thing exact her t-shirt was not quite as white as Amy's. Carmen swung herself up without being asked and set herself down on the passenger side of the truck Amy was driving. "Yep, that's mine. She just died on me. I was hoping you could give me a ride into town. Perhaps a tow truck there could bring her on in and we can figure out what she did to me." Carmen had this uncanny knack of speaking of her car as if it were human and had human feelings and frailties. She didn't bother to mention to her new found friend Amy that she had no funds whatsoever to get the car fixed. One thing at a time had always been her motto.
"Sure, we can do that." Amy glanced quietly at Carmen as she shifted the truck back into gear and rolled it off the shoulder and back out into the pavement that headed into town. Neither Carmen nor Amy was big on small talk so the drive got painfully quiet for awhile. Carmen took the time to take in Amy from the corner of her eye, noting that Amy was a few years older and a few inches taller than the petite Jersey girl. Carmen stretched her back and pushed her body against the truck seat. She didn't do this to be enticing although she knew that it would bring attention to her small pert breasts that were topped with dark nipples that apparently wanted to rip their way right out of her shirt.
"It's hot," Carmen whispered, not really needing to since it being hot was obvious but the quiet stillness was driving her insane.
"Usually is," Amy answered dryly as she shifted the truck into a higher gear, driving on down the scalding highway. Carmen was not known for subtlety and there was definitely something about Amy she found interesting. She slid a bit upon the seat towards Amy at the next curve, the seatbelt straining, holding her back. Amy didn't look or act taken aback rather she turned and gazed into blue eyes with her own big brown ones. "You'll like Garva. It's a friendly town."
With that, Amy took her hand off the shifter and laid it upon the naked flesh of Carmen's thigh. Carmen jumped slightly as if she had been burned, the touch scalding her deep inside her soul. It was electric, as if something buried deep within them both had suddenly come alive with that short moment of contact. Carmen closed her eyes and let her head drift back to rest upon the headrest, allowing herself the luxury of becoming lost in the moment.
Amy abruptly pulled the truck off the road once more, slamming it into park as she reached for the blonde bitch next to her. Fingers curled around her neck as she pulled her mouth to hers and begin to rape it with deep sodden kisses, tongue thrusts echoing the passion she had held in check too long in a small lonely town that didn't understand that a girl might want another girl. Her fingers found the snap of Carmen's shorts quite easily and she opened them, her right hand diving down inside them as if searching for hidden treasures. Her fingers moved quickly over the flesh, her ears heard the sudden intake of breath, the trembling sobs of Carmen but Amy was not to be stopped. Her dark eyes dived into blue pools as her fingers tortured and tormented the young blondes sex until it was wet and molding itself like hot lava to her fingers. Reaching out to be caressed and touched and teased and tormented, Carmen's cunt craved to be manipulated and released by Amy's gentle touch.
"Please..." Carmen begged, not even sure herself for what but knowing deep inside she had been craving this for so long. Her back arched, it did not take long for Amy's magical fingers to bring her to release. They were experts at manipulation and both girls had been dreaming about this moment, craving it, looking for it every morning when they opened their eyes to a new day. Now they had it and there would be no turning back. Carmen gave her everything, the moment precious and held deep inside her heart as as she had an orgasm right there in the front seat of a pick up truck on the shoulder of the road that may or may not be the road taking her to her destiny. And when she did, when she was finished, when the last tremble sifted out of her body and faded away like a hallucination brought about by the desert heat, Amy lifted those fingers to her own lips and sucked them clean with obvious delight before smiling at Carmen like the cat that ate the canary.
"You can stay with me," Amy said, more as an order or a fait accomplice than a request and so Carmen, dazed and confused from her orgasm, the heat and the fate of her car, merely smiled and nodded her head. Garza might not be so bad after all.