Broke Down Girl

Broke Down Girl (c) 2020 Nicolo Parenti

"Shit! Shit, shit - Ow." One last punt at the dead car reminded me I wasn't wearing my tire-kicking shoes. These were my drinking, dancing, driving home shoes. Whoever said 'two out of three ain't bad' didn't own this stupid car.

Ok, Emily, think. It's 1:30 in the morning, you're buzzed, it's very dark and your phone has no bars. And you're wearing the wrong shoes. That's what you get for taking a shortcut across a pass through the hills in a ten year old piece of shit Chevy Calcutta.

I hadn't seen any traffic for half an hour, and the car had died at the middle of a tight curve near the crest of a forested hill. The perfect place if I wanted to avoid being seen by anyone until it was too late to stop. I guess I'd be walking, at least to a spot with a good signal or better odds for a ride.

I got only a few painful yards before returning to rummage in the car for any footwear I might've left there. I found some ratty orange Nikes among the backseat detritus. I swapped them out for my low heels and walked to a spot around the bend where I'd at least be visible. Still no signal. Anyway, I was new to the area and had no real friends here to call, just AAA.

Twenty minutes later not one car had passed. By then it had dawned on my gin-soaked brain that maybe hoping for a random ride at 2:00 AM on a deserted road wasn't a great plan for someone wearing a spangly dress and little else. Although, really, in these shoes how appealing would I be to a trolling rapist?

I didn't remember seeing any houses, not that I'd been looking. Given the hour and the wooded gloom I doubted I'd see one now, but I had to give it a shot because walking ten miles to town was not an option, even downhill. Forward was better than back so I forged ahead until I'd gone maybe half a mile. One side of the road was a cliff face, so I just had to peer down into the hollows on the other side.

I smelled the smoke before I saw the cabin. I came to an almost-hidden mailbox at a driveway in the wall of green. Driving by, you'd never spot it. About 200 yards down the hill I saw a faint flickering light. Salvation!

As I followed the stony path, the glimmer resolved into a lighted window. Great, someone's home and awake. What I didn't see was a car, or any sign of a link to the wider world: no wires, cables, antennas, dish. Well, my little bird of hope reasoned, they probably bury the services out here. I knocked tentatively. Waited two minutes, knocked a little harder.

Finally, the door curtain was pushed aside and a woman's face appeared dimly behind it. A woman. Already I felt a bit relieved.

"Who's that? Jonas? Did you forget your key again?"

"No, listen, my name is Emily and my car broke down on the road. Can I use your phone? I can't get any bars on my cell."

"No phone. Jenny's off for the night." Who the hell was Jenny and why did I care if she wasn't working?

"Um, maybe a CB radio or something? I'm stuck here. I'm miles from home and it's dark and I'm wearing ugly shoes." Yes, I was whining but give me a teensy break here.

The door clicked and swung open. "Like I said, the generator's off for the night." Oh. Jenny. Right.

Here was a petite woman about my age, mid-twenties, wearing a thin flowing top and maybe nothing else. She took in my face and party clothes, then peered down at my shoes. When she looked back up she was smiling. "Ok, sure, come on in. Like I said, no power but Jonas'll be here in a bit and he can run you into town. I'm Marcy. Want some tea? I make it myself."

The only light came from a fireplace on one side of the open front room. It gave off enough glow that Marcy could read the book she'd draped over the arm of a stuffed chair. On a side table was a steaming mug. Suddenly a cup of tea sounded just right.

I accepted a matching mug and nestled into a comfy chair across from Marcy's. The tea had an earthy aroma I couldn't place. The taste was pleasant, but equally foreign. Not from Tetley, for sure.

"You make this yourself? Do you mean you grow the herbs?"

"Yep. The recipe, the herbs, they come down from grandma. Jonas likes me to have a little before he comes by." She sipped, while I took a couple of healthy swigs. "Best take it easy there, honey. It can surprise you if you're not used to it."

We'd been savoring the tea in companionable silence, gazing into the fire, when I felt myself getting a bit flushed. I squirmed in the chair trying to ease the small itch building between my legs. Marcy noticed and smiled. "Feeling it, eh? I told you it can surprise you."

Now it came on in a rush. My nipples hardened to pebbles and my pussy demanded a touch. So I touched it. Marcy nodded, her arousal just as evident through her thin shift. That was obviously all she wore, because it had ridden up to expose the tops of her slim legs, and a dark patch beyond.

She smiled and flapped her top to cool off her dampening slit. "Yeah, that's why Jonas likes me to have some before he gets home."

I'm no prude. I mean, I'd gone to a bar tonight wearing nice shoes and not much underwear, hoping to go home with some guy I didn't know and fuck him until dawn. Well okay, so that hadn't happened.

But Plan B was going home alone, not drinking myself horny having mystery tea with a witch. I was beyond embarrassment as we rubbed ourselves in pussy-centered circles. But I just had to. It itched, dammit.

I nearly jumped out of my chair as the outer door slammed. I did jump out of it, smoothing down my dress, when a deep voice boomed, "Ooh, I smell pussy! Good thing I brought some cock!"

The voice, and presumably the cock, belonged to an impressive male specimen. Six-four, lumberjack build, shock of black hair, with a square jaw showing a day's worth of rough stubble. Not who I'd have taken from the bar tonight, but tasty. His blue eyes went wide as he saw me.

He flushed and sputtered, "Oh, hey, sorry. I didn't know Marcy had company. I mean, I wasn't, I didn't..." He was cute when flustered. And I was still twitching with an itch that wasn't quite lust.

Marcy grinned and piped up, "This is Emily. Her car died up the hill and she needs a ride to town."

"Oh, that you? Shoulda left your blinkers on. Semi comes too close and blammo, wiped out."

"It's stone dead. No flashers, nothing. It's a piece of shit," I added helpfully.

"Anyway, I told her Jonas would give her a lift when he gets home."

Cut to me looking confused. This isn't Jonas? Then who the fuck... what the hell is this?

"Well, that's cool and all but you and me got some business to take care of, if those nips are any clue. Jonas probably ain't far behind but I'm not waiting. Get in the bedroom and spread out." He unbuckled his belt as she discarded her thin top to display a nice tight body. I looked around in a minor panic for some place to hide, but I was already invisible.

"Oooh, Jason, you sweet talker." She turned down a short hall with Jason at her heels. A slap and a giggle later they were groping their way through an open doorway and out of my sight.

But not out of my hearing. It took maybe 20 seconds for the grunting and wailing to begin. My itch was turning into arousal. With my imagination providing the visuals I got back into my comfy chair, closed my eyes and lifted my dress. As I edged around my swollen pubes I pictured Marcy on her back, legs wide and heels clenched around Jason's hairy, thrusting buttocks. My imaginary Jason had a good thick cock just right for a brawny fireman-lumberjack.

I was at the edge, ready to pop, when the sound of the outer door once again propelled me from my chair. This was getting old.

"Dammit, sorry, the road's blocked up top and it took forev..." He stopped in confusion. "You're not Marcy. Where's Marcy? Goddammit, this was my night to... who are you?" He looked me up and down, lingering on my prominent pokies and no doubt noticing my disheveled hemline. Busted.

I flapped my jaw silently. I knew Jason was fucking away in the bedroom with his lumberjack dick, but he could have been right in front of me. Six-four, square jaw, all of it. I finally found my voice. "Um, hi, I'm Emily. You must be Jonas. My car broke down and Marcy let me stay. She said, uh, maybe you'd give me a ride to town?"

"Car? Beat up blue Calcutta, maybe?"

"Uh, right, beaten and left for dead. You saw it?"

"For a minute, yeah. Tow truck was having a hard time, blocked up things a bit. Not usually a problem on that road."

I think I cursed. A lot. Shit heap though it was, the Calcutta was my only transportation. Now I had a repair bill and an impound fee. And dammit, some tow fucker was probably going through my shit and stealing my good shoes. Maybe sniffing them. At least I'd salvaged the Nikes.

Jonas's attention wasn't on my problems. It had been caught by the sounds from the front bedroom. He grinned and said, "You check 'em out? She don't mind an audience, but it's always just been me or Jason. You can probably tell we're brothers. Anagrams, too."

Anna what now? I was having trouble following. He'd taken my elbow and steered me toward the open bedroom door. What backwoods debauchery had I stumbled onto? Into?

The scene almost matched my fantasizing. Marcy was on her back, but Jason wasn't on top. He was standing, having pulled Marcy right to the edge of the mattress. My guess at his endowment was if anything a little shy. But thick as he was, Marcy was having no problem taking him to the root. His movements were deliberate but not hasty, and each time he pulled out I could see the glistening of their sex juices. Marcy's eyes were squeezed shut and she was pulling at her nipples in time with Jason's thrusts.

"Damn, ain't that a sight." He stood behind me. I shivered as he idly stroked my upper arms with his rough hands. The sensations traveled like electricity to my tea-enabled places. My clit throbbed and my nipples erected even more. I was on fire, one started by the evil brew but fanned now by the scene in front of me and the man behind.

As we watched, Jonas's hands roamed down my sides and then, inevitably, up my front. I doubt he thought about the effect on me. He was, we both were, riveted by the action on the bed. But even if his mind wasn't on what his hands were doing, at some level he knew he was playing with a woman's body because his cock, the brotherly analog of the thick pole plowing into Marcy, had risen and was pressing at my ass.

Jonas cupped one breast, tugged up my hem and murmured in my ear, "There's another bed next door. Let's make our own scene, leave these two alone."

I don't know what made me say it. My eyes were riveted on the fucking in front of me and all I could say was "No. Right here." With that I leaned forward and sucked in one of Marcy's nipples. Jonas wasted no time in dropping his pants - a commando performance - lifting the back of my spangly shift and pushing aside my sopping thong.

On another occasion I might have taken the time to assess the size of the cock about to penetrate me, maybe suck it a little to moisten it for easier entry. But I didn't need that now. I could clearly see its twin, and I was wet and open enough to take one twice as thick. He pushed in with a slow, continuous motion that took my breath away. Fuck.

Marcy's eyes opened in response to my nips and licks. She smiled vacantly and purred. Jason never paused as he fucked away, but he did use one of his callused hands to draw my head away from her breast and down to where they were joined. By now Jonas was pistoning into me with steady strokes. The motion made it tough to use my tongue like Jason wanted. The two men tried to sync their fucking to make it easier.

I licked at the place where Jason met Marcy, lapping at her clit and his cock at the same time. Marcy humped up to meet my face. We continued like that, me getting plowed deeply while Marcy got the double stimulation that would soon cause her to lose control.

She quaked in a ragged climax that threw off our careful rhythm and forced out Jason's cock. Lucky for all, my mouth was right there to take over. He'd been very close too. Almost as soon as I captured his cock it started to jet hot goo onto my tongue. I took as much as I could, then let it ooze onto Marcy's still spasming pussy. I tongued it into Marcy's reddened lips and swollen clit with the help of Jonas's thrusts.

Jonas had great control, but everyone has a breaking point and this was his. He pressed into me and froze as he emptied his balls into my cunt in a series of intense pulses that almost, almost triggered my own climax. But not quite. I was just so close. Everyone else had gotten off royally, but poor Emily still burned with unslaked lust. Sniff.

Marcy was out of it, but Jason was, remarkably, still hard after shooting a load into my mouth. As his brother slid limply out of my sticky pussy, Jason picked me up and placed me on the bed next to Marcy. With no preamble he plunged into me with alarming vigor, giving me a pounding fuck that had me on the edge again in seconds.

I climbed toward my peak and over it, coming with rare intensity. And still he fucked, hard and deep, his pubes smacking mine and his cock rubbing away at my inner parts until, gloriously and without warning, I came again. And again when he roared out his own climax, spewing what was left of his liquid reserves into my satisfied body. This time we both crashed, joining Marcy and Jonas in a mutual sex coma.

Minutes or hours later I stirred to find my new friends gone from the bed. A light murmur came from the front room. They'd politely cleaned the spunk from my face, leaving me almost as fresh as when I'd arrived. Well, except for the two loads inside. I looked around to find my dress and thong. I realized that through all of the sucking and thrusting I'd managed to keep my Nikes on. Maybe I should wear my lucky shoes whenever I go dancing. Fuck all fashion. I slipped my dress on and went out to join the others. I was the only one wearing shoes. Or clothes.

We sipped drinks - god no not tea - and casually talked about our sex and what it might lead to. The guys and Marcy kidded me about stumbling into what they'd been sharing. They'd been in a rut without really noticing, so my arrival was a great kick. It was assumed, at least by them, that this wouldn't be a one-time thing. Me, I wasn't so sure.

"Wait until you fuck both of them at once," Marcy said. "We don't do it much but when we do it's almost as good as tonight."

"Ever had a dick in your butt?" asked Jonas.

I nodded because it was true. But it was just once, I was way drunk, and I didn't have a great memory of it.

"How about one in your cootch too?" asked Jason.

I shook my head. The thought of the two cocks I'd had tonight stuffed into me at once was, frankly, less arousing than I think they expected it to be. Part of it I'm sure was post-coital letdown, that serotonin drain that can leave you mildly ashamed of what just excited you. But part of it was, I wasn't sure they'd both fit.

There was still the matter of my car. My crapmobile was languishing in a tow yard somewhere, piling up fees. I mentioned it and Jason offered to drive me over.

"Cool, but... how much is it going to cost? I didn't bring any cash, mainly because I don't have much cash. Do they take post-dated checks?"

Three heads were shaking the shake of experience. "Nope, cash is the rule. They got an ATM machine right there though. But don't get your bowels in an uproar. Me and Carl go way back and I'm sure we can work something out."

I should have heard the warning in that phrase, but hope drowned it out.

It was the darkest hour before dawn when Jason turned into Carl's Salvage. Buzzing floodlights gave the yard the look of an alien landing site. My chariot stood off to the side of the cinder block office, just as dead as it had been up on the hill. I guess they were hesitant to file it in the rows of wrecks in case it was worth it to some poor schmuck to reclaim it tonight. Well, meet your schmuckette.

Opening the door set off a buzzer you could hear across the yard. It roused a beefy biker dude I supposed was the owner of this fine establishment.

"Yo, Carl. How's it hangin', buddy? I see you caught this young lady's Calcutta tonight. Carl, Emily. Listen, she's a pal and she ain't got a lot of money right now, so I was thinking maybe you could cut her a break?"

"Fuck you, Jonas. Or is that Jason? Phil caught that one fair, sittin' right out on the side of the hill. A real hazard. No lights, nothin'. It was a tough pull. Cost us gas and wear, right? I'ma give that away?"

"It's Jason, man, and you don't have to be a prick. So okay, maybe a little credit? How much we talkin' here?"

"Fuck credit too. Onliest thing you got is that little gal there. You fuck her tonight?" I guess straight talk was preferred here. Jason grinned, but I recoiled. I am not a whore. I will not fuck a guy for money. Pretty much any other reason, sure. But there's a line.

Jason took me aside and said quietly, "You gotta know Carl's story. He caught an IED in the Gulf that cut some crotch nerve. He's been limp ever since. Only thing he does now is suck pussy, and I've heard he's extra fond of a full one. Which you got. Just let him do you, what's not to like? A few licks and your tow fee goes away. That's at least a hundred bucks, and plus you get eaten out by an expert. Win-win."

He turned back to Carl and gave me a wink. Selling it. "Yep, I fucked her and so did Jonas. She's a real firecracker, got Marcy off too. You wanna taste?"

Carl licked his lips. "How about it, uh, Emily, right? We make a trade, you get your car back and I get to munch on your hairy parts?" More of that straight talk.

Jason piped up, "Not much hair, Carl. Little landing strip."

Carl waved it away. "That was a, whatcha call it."

Fuck, these people are crude. I took a beat to look him over. Not exactly a dreamboat, but his overalls were clean and he didn't smell. Oh, I have my standards all right. I couldn't believe I was considering it. But I mean, who was I kidding. My choices were limited.

I lifted my hem and slid off the thong, which had done a fair job of holding in those two loads. "Right here, or do you have a back room?"

Carl grinned widely, exposing a nearly complete set of teeth. One more point in his favor. "We better go in back. Phil is on a run but my yard man Malik might pop in any time, if he ain't asleep."

Jason gave me a nod and said, "Gotta get going, honey. You stop around again soon. There's a lot more like that." I gave him what I hoped was a withering look. My shining knight.

In the back office Carl sat me at the edge of a desk and said, "Ok, sling those legs over my shoulders and let's party." As I did he remarked, "Hey, nice kicks. Pegasus, right? Never seen 'em in orange. No offense, but they don't exactly go with that dress." Everyone wants to be Tim Gunn.

Those were the last words spoken for the next fifteen minutes.

I suppose it was the lack of boner status that gave him his enthusiasm and talent. Like blind people who hear better. Whatever, dude could eat a twat. He started by easing my lips apart to expose the juicy bits. He licked and probed and nuzzled and nipped with devilish accuracy, eager to get his reward. Once he was burrowed in he freed his hands to push my dress up further and play with my tits. He did things with my pussy I don't think I could duplicate if I had a girl right in front of me.

I lasted maybe three minutes. I screamed, but I'd clamped Carl's ears so hard he probably didn't hear it. The climax got my juices flowing and that started a cycle of gushing, sucking, coming etc until I was orgasmed out. Carl surfaced, took a greasy rag to his hairy chin and said with a sly grin, "You got fucked good tonight, eh? That was quite a load."