Hitchhikers' Erotic Reward Ch. 02

In answer to a bit of 'moral' outrage as well as an equal number of requests from readers who don't wish to be left hanging, I have written this unplanned sequel. EgmontGrigor

FOUR

Ewan's dream of sliding over a huge breast on a wave of cum was infiltrated by a more pragmatic brain signal: the need to eat. As his return to full alterness gathered he identified the smell of bacon being cooked on an open fire out in the bush in outback Australia.

Cranking his eyelids apart, he saw a pair of naked tits dangling dangerously close to the fire, tits he'd licked and mauled the previous night in a gluttony of sex.

"Good morning, Mrs Australia," he greeted, unable to remember Bette Medway's name for the moment in the typical manner of a carnally driven male opportunist.

"Hi there...um," responded Bette brightly, not at all embarrassed by her lapse. "Nice sleep...er...Evan?"

"Ewan."

"Sorry, of course. If you shag me half silly it's only naturally I'll wake up half silly.

"Go have your pee and return and sink your fangs into this tucker. By the way, my name's Bette Medway in case you've forgotten."

"Nah, I never forget a lover's name."

"What was the name of the female you last shagged before me, Ewan?"

"That's easy but whoa there. I must duck off for a pee."

"Right."

Tucking into bacon, eggs and potato mash, Ewan decided to engage in meaningful conversation.

"What does your husband think about you ripping around Australia on your own and sleeping with other men?"

"Firstly, I don't go more than a day's drive from home, so he assumes I'm safe as I'm near home. Secondly, mind you own fucking business."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry," said Ewan, beating flies to his last piece of cooling bacon. "I apologize if I offended you but I'm rather interested in the moral issues."

"I'm not offended you dickhead. I just said that to put you off in case you're engaging in idle small talk."

"I am genuinely interested."

"Really, are you genuine about anything Ewan?"

"I love my mum and dad. You say something insulting to me about them and you'll see how genuine I am about them."

"I'm also genuine in my feelings to my girlfriend Kate and I am also loyal to my boss at work and to the firm."

"But not loyal to this Kate."

"Of course I am. I care for her greatly and give her anything she wants badly enough and she'll be wanting me rather badly right now."

Bette looked at him with a thin smile, wiping her mouth and fingers with a paper napkin.

"Loyal to your Kate, eh? I suppose you discharged adherence to that concept by thinking it was her you were shagging last night instead of me?"

"Don't be absurd. You were totally in my mind, it was you I was shagging, and only you."

Bette chuckled.

"Well, perhaps it was; you certainly didn't lack enthusiasm and appeared to deposit everything you had!"

"Of course, and for your information Kate is aware that I will seek relief elsewhere if I am separated from her for more than a couple of days – I've discussed this with her."

"Oh, have you now. And she made a similar commitment?"

Ewan turned red.

"I see," said Bette. "She didn't, she chose to remain loyal."

"I object to that assumption. You are correct, she said she would not spread it about while I was away. But we discussed this like two mature adults and not in a confrontational manner nor with moralistic overtones that impinge on our right of choice."

Bette decided to ignore that sermon from the pulpit.

"Do you want more bacon – I want to build you up before we launch into our swan song in an hour or two?"

"No thanks, Bette. I'm fine, just this piece of bread and I'm done, though would like another coffee."

Bette put in a low punch.

"Your comment that you need to seek relief elsewhere is bullshit, absolute bullshit. You could use your hand instead of another women's mouth or vagina."

"It's my decision," Ewan said sullenly.

"I'm sorry," Bette said, pulling her hands above her head and yawning. "I've become rather too personal."

Bett's tits thrusting out like that caused Ewan's penis to stir.

"I'm thinking this guy is hankering for his breakfast," he said, holding his rising erection.

Bette grinned and cupping her breasts held them out to him.

"I said our swan song in an hour or two. There's no reason why we shouldn't practice for it."

"Grrrrrrrh," went Ewan, lunging at her.

"For fuck sake, don't push me in the fire," she yelled.

Although Bette is not a light woman, Ewan managed to scoop her up to take her to the safety of the blanket away from the fire.

They kissed passionately as if wanting to make amends for their rather abrasive discussion.

"How would you like it?"

"Slowly," Bette replied. "We've just had breakfast."

"A long and slow sixty-nine."

"Oh you clever boy. Roll on to your back."

FIVE Like the brave solider he was, Ewan looked at the cunt that had been backed up nicely and was drooped just above his mouth. It was fringed in dried cum and smelt like the bottom of an empty barrel at a fish market – but hey he thought, most of that was a result of him.

He lifted his head and grunted, licked around a bit and then inserted his tongue, aware that it was not the sloppy place he'd wallowed in a few hours earlier but that would change once he went to work

Reaching up with a finger he made contact with the clit easily – easily because the good girl was full of beans, it being early morning and after some sleep she was lively ands on her hands and knees instead of sprawled over him like a beached porpoise.

Ewan resolved to be kind to her as she was a highly interfacing woman stuck way out in a region than geologically was semi-hospitable. Despite that, she was a tough nut and seemed to have adapted well.

Bette – why the fuck he couldn't remember her name earlier he'd never know, he'd always been good with four letter words. Bette was five letters but sounded like four or even three for that matter. Three – he never had trouble remembering tit.

Cheered up immensely now the morality crap was over-run in his mind by his latest thoughts, Ewan became more enthusiastic and could tell by the pressure on his dick being eaten half to death that Bette was appreciating his administrations.

As Bette had straddled Ewan, backing into the copybook position and lowering her head to get to work at her end; her nose warned her off and her eyes added to what her reliable snout had detected.

She giggled – snout! If any bloke referred to her nose as a snout she would have dropped him – the old 'one-two' that boxing people always go on about. Only hers would have been a knee to his balls and a solid chop to his throat learned in anti-rape training some years ago.

Gosh this Kiwi was good. He'd practically had her out on her feet – er, her back – last night, so much so that she hadn't bothered to take a quick wash in the lake or even clean her teeth, and her first desire on waking had been to get food into them and here they were, at it again, far too soon and she'd still not washed.

Poor Sam, if he came at her with pongy breath she'd send him off to the bathroom and she routinely had them showering as soon as they recovered after sex, which inevitably meant a single shower as her husband was usually into single shot sex.

Gritting her teeth she licked tentatively at the cock projecting her way which smelt like...like. Well here's a tester girl, what does this pit down here smell like? She finally settled for a workers' bus full of males with a handful of females with hygiene problems below their navel.

Yes, that was it! A rich aromatic blend of urine, dried cum, dried pussy juice, sweat and older stale body odor with an intensity a French perfumery would be proud of, once they got the blend rebalanced and the more hostile fragrances – which was all of them - masked and controlled.

She realized that Ewan's tongue was snaking into a similar unappetizing pit, the brave boy. Obviously he was a great Kiwi battler, as they say.

Soon Bette became aware he was attacking with greater relish; she stifled a grunt and sunk her mouth on to the shaft, washing it with fresh saliva as she progressed along its length.

Then with her fist jerking the column and her mouth massaging the helmet of his cock, Bette wondered what Kate was like. She guessed Kate would have a sweet face, long black hair, be very intelligent with evidence of motherly instinct, lovely legs and probably a little shy – the kind of girl guys know to bring home to show their mother. It's an instinct thing young men have.

She knew that Ewan would have been unable to resist a small essential – Kate would have big breasts.

Trying to picture Kate's sweet face and big tits made Bette shudder and she sent a wash over Ewan's face, the poor sod. She removed her mouth and fisted his dick furiously, slapping against the ridge of the helmet. He fired the first shot the sly bugger, without tensing or giving any warning in fact, catching her on the forehead and messing her hair, but that was a mess anyway.

Ewan then groaned and she obliged by slipped her mouth over the ejaculating head and cleaning him up as they went.

She sighed and rewarded the sod with greater togetherness by sinking her weight on to him.

Sighing again Bette looked up and saw something that made her smile.

Rolling off Ewan she whispered, "Sit up very slowly and quietly and look straight ahead."

Oh Christmas, thought Ewan, there's a colony of deadly spiders marching out way. Let's kill the fuckers.

He rose to his knees, ready to do battle but immediately relaxed. There in the stand of trees were a group of grey 'roos, silently watching them.

"Now, all we need is a croc and I'll know I'm in heartland Aussie," he whispered.

At that moment a couple of ducks landed in the water nearby with a splash. Ewan yelled "Shit!" and rolled right over Bette to perceived safety from the non-existent crocodile. This robust behaviour winded Bette a little, curbing somewhat her hysterical laughter at the antics of this funny man.

"I'm not safe to be out in the wilds, I'm a city boy," Ewan said defensively.

"Oh my poor boy," cooed Bette, taking the opportunity to mother him, cradling him and kissing his face profusely. Now she felt complete.

Far too soon Ewan opened his mouth and spoilt this idyllic moment for Bette, asking: "Do you do this to your husband."

"No."

"May I ask, why not?"

"Because his style is not to bare his emotions."

"Have you spoken to him about it, you obviously like doing it?"

"I have, but got the brick wall treatment so I never talk about it these days."

"But you still fuck?"

"Oh yes, in the main I get the perfunctory 'Turn over darling and I'll shaft you'."

"But when a big dry comes and we go day after day with hot weather knowing our stock and the land needs rain we get tense and scrap, the scraps turn into rows and then we have a dingo of a battle."

Ewan obviously was listening.

"And that's when you pack the wagon and take off – so you don't kill him."

Bette turned away quickly and said in a low voice she'd never do that. Ewan was left not knowing what to think.

"What happens when you return home – you kiss and make up?"

"Oh yes, he seems to forget himself. He goes crazy with happiness and ploughs into me as if we were back in our first years together. Don't laugh, please – but usually we remain in bed for a day and a night, just pigging out, fucking, sleeping and reading. It's virtually our annual holiday together."

"That sounds super."

"It is."

Ewan took the moral high ground.

"I guess there are moral issues here. To be true to yourself when you run away into the wilderness, ought not you perfect your escape from an intolerable situation by purifying yourself in thought and body?"

"What, and don't look for the chance to grab some sex?"

"Yes, precisely."

"Listen mate, you've been out in the sun without a hat. This casual sex I have like this often produces some of the best sex I have all year. Can you imagine me giving up on that?"

Ewan looked nervous. This is not how she was supposed to react, he'd had a vague impression that she would have agreed with him, she'd burst into tears and he'd cuddled her and that would have led to great sex.

"Um." He didn't know what to say.

Bette shook her head, thinking the little bastard (he was bigger than her, but not by much), he thinks he can shag around and everything's rosy while women if they want release they can always go and do some knitting.

"I don't knit or sew, Ewan."

"Huh?" he responded, but she did not elaborate.

Instead Bette stood up, pulled him to his feet and hauled him in to the lake to bath, taking towels and enviromental-friendly liquid wash with her. They smelled like alley cats, although she was sorry to demean alley cats.

After that, still naked, they went for a walk and Bette identified the wildlife they saw.

Back at the campsite they had another cup of coffee and while Bette put out the fire with water and then shoveled sand over the fireplace for additional security against a rogue fire, Ewan paid tribute to her.

"You've given me a great couple of days, Bette. I thank for that. It's the greatest spell of hosting I've ever received. You're a great lady, tough and uncompromising and yet funnily enough all heart."

"Don't be absurd."

"It's true, Bette – you give one hundred percent."

"Bullshit, you know I was out to drain you of cum."

"That's bullshit, and you know it Bette. You were a bored and lonely mess when you met me, guilty about leaving your husband in a crisis although I didn't know that till you told me.

"You wanted someone who'd come close to loving you – at least to show you some tenderness and kindness but above all to talk to you with some bite to the conversation, something to get your mind into gear."

"This bullshit is making you sound silly, Ewan," said Bette, sniffing, unable to look at him, so she said, "Come on you lazy Kiwi bastard, help me break up camp. We'll load the vehicle but leave the blanket where it is because I want the farewell performance from you."

Of course, she knew the things Ewan had just said were right on the button.

When they returned to stand on the blanket, Bette took his penis in hand and it grew for her, Ewan facing her, arms resting over her shoulders. After kissing and tonguing they lay down and Ewan licked her wet, then rolled her on to her side and pulled her back towards him.

"Don't Ewan."

"It's not what you think. Lift your top leg and brace it with an arm."

Ewan pulled her into the shape he wanted – bent from the middle with the lower leg and upper body pointing away from him. He then went right in against her, feeding his dick into her cunt, causing Bette to groan in pleasure. Reaching over he played with a breast while beginning to pump.

"Rock back on to me in counter-rhythm," he said. "If you don't like it we'll try something else – I'm probably close to being knackered as far as cum supply is concerned. I'm not a 50-shot Aussie hero."

"You've done fine, admirably in fact. And I like this position and feel we going to have a great finale."

They humped slowly, trying to eek it out but inevitably the signs of imminent action came.

Ewan let go of the breast he'd rubbed red and arched his body back. Bette gasped as she took the slight increase in length of his thickening cock. She closed her eyes in rhapsody, her fingers busily working her clit while Ewan had a finger stroking that sensitive area between her vulva and asshole.

Beautiful sensations were flowing through Bette but enjoyment became tempered as her midsection heated up.

She tottered on the brink, panting like a dog in need of water. She thought of her four dogs to prolong her period on the brink. She was unable to stifle a groan then reacting to that Ewan gave her a stinging slap on her ass.

She went "Eeeeeeeeeh" and gushed and felt Ewan's pumping cock beginning to jerk wildly and he threw his head back and yelled, "Holy shit" alarming birds out of the nearby trees and scattering water fowl.

The it was all over.

They kissed and dropped into a brief nap.

Bette stirred them awake and they returned to the bath in the lake. She washed and dried Ewan and he reciprocated.

Ten minutes later they were on their way, with Bette pushing Ewan to determine his depth of loyalty.

"Do you think you will marry Kate?"

"Nah, I like blondes," he laughed, stretching across and fondling Bette's bleached hair.

After almost four hours they passed the access track to her homestead, but she didn't look at it, only identifying the location to Ewan; she kept her eyes straight ahead.

They drove for almost another two hours to crossroads wity a highway.

There time of sadness came, a moment that Bette would have intense thoughts about for the next couple of weeks. They kissed and had a tearful farewell; Ewan's eyes were definitely moist.

Then he got on to the road with his backpack.

Bette had turned big 4WD wagon facing the oncoming traffic heading in the direction he wanted to go. There wasn't much traffic but the second vehicle she flicked her lights at stopped and the elderly couple picked up the hitchhiker.

Bette and Ewan waved to each other, then he was gone.

Bette spent a long time her head in her arms over the steering wheel, then sniffed loudly headed homewards.

EPILOGUE

Almost six months after Bette's night at McGinty Springs, Sam came in with the mail and tossed Bette a letter.

"It's from New Zealand. Who do you know in New Zealand?"

"Oh, I met a hitchhiker a few months ago and gave him a ride and substance. He was very appreciative."

She opened it and found it was a wedding invitation with the photo of the engaged couple.

The pretty young woman was sweet-faced with long dark hair and looked very out-going and her breasts were not unduly large. Bette turned the photo over and on the back was scrawled 'Me and fiancée Kate.'

Smiling, Bette knew that Kate had won through; she was glad, knowing that Ewan would do well in life under the guidance of a strong woman.

After reading the invitation Bette looked up the calendar for Rugby games for the season and joyfully went and found Sam who was repairing a water pump.

"We've been invited to a wedding in New Zealand next month."

Sam frowned and opened his mouth to retort, but Bette got in first.

"It's in Auckland the same venue and same week the Wallabies [Australia's Rugby team] will be playing New Zealand."

"A wedding you say," Sam said scratching his hair. "I guess we'd better go and may as well book tickets to the game.

"Get off me woman," he laughed as Bette pushed him against the workbench and began kissing him passionately.

THE END