On a Long and Lonesome Highway

"You're one hard person to find." She said with a smile.

"I like to try to keep a low profile." I responded.

"Yeah. I can see that. By the way, my name is Tasha. Besides calling you Gingersnaps or Lonesome, what else should I call you?"

"Emily. My real name is Emily."

"OK, Emily. That's much better. I could live with calling you Ginger, but Lonesome is out."

"What are you doing here?" I asked. Fuck, this was three states away from that truck stop she was at.

"Well, I'm about to eat dinner with the woman who rescued me, and I can't get out of my mind. Then, that woman will cancel her shower reservation and come back with me to the motel room I reserved. I figured that she could just shower in the room with me, then I can show her my gratitude for what she did for me. After that, I was hoping that she could give me a ride. It seems that the truck I rode here in has abandoned me or will shortly."

OK then. Over dinner, she told me her story. Her parents were killed a couple years ago in a car accident. She ended up moving in with her boyfriend. She had dropped out of college and was working at a minimum wage job. She didn't know it at the time, but it turned out that he was dealing drugs. He also became abusive and was pressuring her to start prostituting. When she refused, he put her in the hospital. She left just before he was released from jail. That's how she ended up at the truck stop. She figured that she was far enough away that he wouldn't find her.

Then it was my turn. I really didn't want to do this. It was painful to even think about. After a bit more coaxing, I began my sad tale. I was the middle child of a middle-income family. My parents were loving, worked hard, and we never wanted for anything that we needed. My older brother was the popular one with lots of friends. My younger sister was also popular, but she could be a pain in the ass at times. She was the baby of the family. I preferred to be by myself or hanging out with the few friends that I had. I wasn't really shy or introverted, I could do well socially, but I just preferred to be by myself. I dated sporadically in high school. After all, I wasn't ugly. It's just that I never really felt anything for any of the guys. I had an epiphany in my senior year of high school. It wasn't really any major event that caused it. I think that I already knew deep down, but one evening it just hit me. I was at one of our school football games. It was somewhere in the third quarter when I came to the sudden realization that I had been focusing on our cheerleaders and not the game. Thinking about it a bit more made me realize that all those feelings that all the girls talked about with guys, I was having them thinking about girls. Guys were OK as friends, but it was girls that brought out my romantic and lustful feelings. It was just one small step to admit to myself that I am gay.

Highschool being the survival challenge that it is, that was NOT something that I wanted to be let known. You didn't want to stand out as being different in that jungle atmosphere. That would only lead to harassment, bullying, and being shunned. Nope. Not gonna go there. Instead, I continued to go out on the occasional date. I didn't put out -- not even a hand job -- so I rarely had a second date. I did go to prom. We both seemed to have a good time. He was a bit disappointed that he never got to use the motel room he reserved.

College. I was staying in the dorms, since the college I was attending was a couple hundred miles away from home. There I was, an 18-year-old college freshman, ready to experience life and take on the world. Lucky for me that my roommate felt the same way. Neither of us had any experience with girls before. We managed to fumble our way through an awkward first time. Still, the orgasms were good. Over the next couple of months, we experimented and actually did a bit of research on it. It got better. Unfortunately, she made the mistake of coming out to her extremely conservative family over Winter Break and never returned. She borrowed a friend's phone and texted me goodbye.

OK, that was sad, but not soul crushing. I mean, I did like her. She was a friend and lover, but I never really thought of her as Ms. Right. She was more like Ms. Right Now. On the upside, I now had my dorm room all to myself.

During the Spring semester I discovered that there was an LGBT group on campus. I quickly joined. I made several new friends and even went out on several dates. Several of the girls were much more experienced than I was, and I learned quite a lot. Still, I hadn't found that one person yet. I was back home over Summer Break. I guess mom was getting a bit anxious about me taking so long to get into a relationship. It seemed every time that we went out shopping or even just to lunch, we would 'accidentally' bump into at least one boy near my age. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see what was really going on. Just to humor mom, I did go out with several of them over the summer.

It was my Junior year. I was at the second meeting of the LGBT group when SHE walked in. You know those cheesy teen rom-com movies where the girl walks into the room and it's like magic? Romantic music begins playing, the spotlight suddenly shines on her, everyone else suddenly disappears, and it's just the two of you in the room? Yeah, that really happens. The only word for it is transfixed. I was instantly smitten. Oddly, this goddess looked straight into my eyes and smiled. I melted.

SHE made a direct path to the little group that I was with. With a blinding smile that went all the way to her deep brown eyes, she came over and introduced herself.

"Hello. I'm (SHE)." Her voice was like angels singing. Just an FYI; Her name shall never pass through my lips.

It was rude as hell, but for some reason I simply introduced myself and completely ignored everyone around me. The fact that they had vanished from my perception may have had something not do with that. Moments later, we were alone in a corner engaged in a very deep conversation about ourselves. That led to some very deep exploring with our tongues. That led back to the apartment I was sharing with a couple of friends. Which, of course, led to a wildly passionate night in my room.

It was instant love for both of us. Over the next couple of months, we spent as much time together as we could. This was it. I had finally found Ms. Right, and she would eventually be Mrs. Wright. Wright being my last name, actually. The only times we were really apart were when we had class, study groups, or the occasional weekend when she went home. Other than that, we were inseparable.

My first big mistake was in November. I asked if it was OK for me to bring a friend home for Thanksgiving weekend. OK, I was naive. SHE's parents were going on a cruise that week. I had decided that this would be the perfect time to actually come out to my family. It was a holiday built around being thankful for what you have. It was a time of family and happiness. It was a time of celebrating your accomplishments.

Seriously, I had no clue. My parents never gave the slightest hint of their deep offence to homosexuality. I mean, we were never overly religious growing up. Sure, we attended church regularly, but it was never a real topic of discussion. I never really heard a single disparaging word about homosexuality while growing up. OK, sure, I heard the occasional joke. Like during the 1988 Presidential election, I heard my daddy laugh as he said that this was the first time the homosexual vote was split. The fags were voting Dukakis, while the Lesbians wanted Bush. OK, a bit offensive, but it was just a joke.

SHE had to drive us back to campus Thursday evening. It was beyond horrible. It was the beginning of Thanksgiving dinner. Our tradition was to go around the table and say what you are thankful for that year. It was the normal stuff until it was my turn.

"I'm thankful for a loving family. I'm thankful that I am able to go to college and get an education. I'm thankful that my family supports me. I am also thankful that I have finally found the love of my life who I have brought home to meet my family."

"WHAT THE FUCK???"

I had never heard my father swear before. I looked around and saw nothing but stunned and disgusted faces from my family. It went downhill from there. I seemed that my family had deep seated feelings against homosexuality. It had never really come up before, since none of us really had any encounters with anyone that we knew who was homosexual.

Sophie's choice. That was a very emotional movie. Sophie had two children. She was given a choice as to which of her two children would be executed and which would live. How does a mother choose which of her children to kill? This wasn't exactly that, but I was given the choice between giving up the love of my life and repenting from my perverted ways or being disowned by my entire family. How does one choose between their soulmate and their family? It finally came down to a simple fact. SHE loved me regardless of anything else. Her love for me was not dependent on any choices I was forced to make. We quickly packed up and left to go back to my apartment.

Yes, I was depressed. Yes, it did affect us, but not disastrously. I managed to get through my classes with reasonable grades. Eventually, I was able to come to terms with the situation. Things improved. SHE still went home for the occasional weekend. We did try to make plans for me to join her on her trips home, but something always seemed to come up. We decided that we would get married over the summer before our senior year. I stupidly reached out to my family and tried to get them to come to the wedding. That was another disaster. It seemed as though her parents didn't have the funds for a full wedding like we had thought about. Instead, it was to be a simple ceremony with only our closest friends and her family.

How does a person recover from being betrayed in the worst possible way? How can you recover from being completely humiliated in front of all your closest friends? How do you possibly go on when you are betrayed by the one person that you gave up your entire family for? There are no other words for it. Utter and complete devastation. There I was in my simple white wedding dress. I was about to go and take my vows to the woman I loved with all my heart and soul.

Instead, she was trying to explain how it was an accident, but she needed to marry the father of her baby. SHE was bisexual. SHE had a boyfriend back home, which was the real reason she went home every couple of weekends. She was calling the wedding off and literally leaving me standing at the altar. Now, I not only lost my family, but I now lost HER too.

"You were cheating on me?" I asked in devastation.

"Well, I don't exactly think of it as cheating. It was completely different. It's simple biology. He gives me something you physically can't, and you give me things that he physically can't. It's not like I was having sex with another woman, after all. That would be cheating." SHE replied.

"YOU HAD SEX WITH ANOTHER PERSON!"

"Well, yeah. But it was with a guy. It's not the same. Besides, he's OK with me fooling around with another woman. It actually excites him."

"How long have you been fucking him?"

"Uuummmm, well, since my senior prom. He is my high school sweetheart. I've been dating him since my junior year of high school."

"You've been cheating on me throughout our entire relationship?"

"Again, it isn't really cheating. It's like apples and oranges. I love apples, they are my favorite fruits, but I also love oranges. It isn't cheating if I have an orange sometimes instead of an apple."

"That is the worst analogy I have ever heard."

"Sorry, but it's the best I could come up with right now. Look, this doesn't have to be the end of us. OK, so it's gonna suck to have to tell the 200 guests sitting out there that the wedding is off, and I realize that there are a hell of a lot of deposits that we will never get back, but Brad is willing to keep sharing me with you. Sure, he would like to join us occasionally, but it's not a deal-breaker if you don't want to have sex with him. We both just feel that it would be best for our child if he and I were actually legally married to each other."

So, yeah. Our conversation deteriorated after that. When she finally left the room, I pretty much just ripped my wedding gown off my body and changed back into the casual clothes I arrived in. I took a couple of slugs of the Jim Beam that one of my bridesmaids had brought with her and marched out into the venue where the guests were being seated.

"I'm sorry to have to inform you about this, but the cheating slut that I was supposed to be marrying today has called off the wedding. It seems as though she will be scheduling another wedding to marry the scumbag that knocked her up. Please feel free to go ahead and enjoy the open bar and free food that her parents will be paying for. I'm sure that they won't mind, after all, they were the ones that raised her to be the slut she is."

With that, I walked off the stage and began to go down the aisle towards the door. The asshole had been sitting in the second row. He made the stupid mistake of standing up and trying to confront me. He stepped out into the aisle to block my exit.

"Look, Emily. I understand how you must be feeling right now, but I want to let you know that we both still want you in our lives. She really loves you, and I have no problem with sharing her with......"

Fade to John Madden and Pat Summerall hosting Monday Night Football.

"IT'S A NEW NFL RECORD! BOOM! A 70-YARD FIELD GOAL TO WIN THE GAME."

"John, I have never seen a more perfect kick in my life. Having been a kicker in the NFL, that field goal was the best I have ever seen. It was straight down the center of the goal posts. The power and accuracy she displayed was beyond anything I have ever witnessed."

"I agree, Pat. You could hear her foot strike the balls even from up here in the booth. His feet actually left the ground by about two feet. It was obvious that she connected square in the center of the balls. By the force and accuracy of the kick, Pat, I'm not sure that it wouldn't have been good from 80-yards."

"I agree, John. Hold on. The medical team is rushing onto the field as the kicker is leaving the field in triumph. I have a feeling that those balls will never play another down."

"I agree, Pat. I think that those balls are about to be retired and put on a shelf, never to be used again."

I continued to walk down the aisle and out the doors. HE was laying on the floor in a fetal position with both hands clutching his ruined dick and testicules. Several people had gathered around hit to try and see if they could help.

From that point, I was truly alone. I had given up my family for her. Once word got out in my hometown, most of my friends had also abandoned me. I hadn't really cared at the time, because I at least had HER; my soulmate and the love of my life. I was now, suddenly, completely alone. My world was shattered. I was devastated beyond belief. Iron walls began to form around my heart. My world was surrounded by utter devastation.

I never contacted the school. I simply never showed up. I joined the Army. I no longer cared about anything. I ended up being an MP. A lot of my duty was escorting convoys in a place that was a boil on the butt of humanity. I had other assignments as well. I learned to drive a truck. I took any course in combat that I could. I knew someone that was into Krav Maga, so I got him to teach me. Eventually, I found a certified instructor and trained with him. There is a significant amount of down time in the military. I used that to work out. There were several hook-ups with like minded women. Occasionally, I would hit the bars with my squad. Most of the whores avoided me, but a few decided that money from a woman spent the same as from the guys. I always asked them if they were clean up front. I warned them that if I started licking them and found any trace of semen, I would most likely lose my shit. Every once in a while, the whore that I was with would point me in the direction of one of her friends after I gave her the warning.

After my term was up, I decided not to reenlist. With the training that I got in the army, I managed to get my Class A license. I never spent much of my pay while in the military, so I was able to buy my Kenworth. I hooked up wit a couple of lang haul dispatchers and began my new career. Since I normally just slept in the truck, I didn't have a lot of expenses. I was making decent money, and it all went into the bank and my investment portfolio.

I never sought out another relationship. It was just too painful. While in the military, whenever I had an urge, I simply went to one of the local hangouts and picked up an agreeable whore for a couple of hours. No, it wasn't exactly satisfying, but it did relieve the tension. After I was discharged and began driving, I did the same thing at the truck stops. There were always girls 'working their way through college' or the more mature whores stalking the truckers at the truck stops. One or two were always agreeable to do a woman -- for the right price. It was a win-win. They got some extra cash, and I got to relieve the stress without opening myself up to another hurtful relationship. There were even a few that I became one of their regulars with. No emotional entanglements, just regular sex whenever I stopped by.

That worked well for me until that night. When Tasha and I finished dinner, I followed her to her room. I had canceled my shower reservation as we walked out. As soon as the door to her room closed behind us, she turned around and planted her lips to mine. Fireworks. I literally had explosions going off in my brain. My eyes were filled with stars. When I felt her tongue gently probing my lips, my mouth automatically opened to allow access. My tongue responded to her request to come out and play. It was sensuous. It was suggestive. It was exquisite.

Our lips never parted as we blindly made our way to the bathroom. The only time that we parted was when we needed to pull our shirts up over our heads to discard the irrelevant fabric. My clothes were removed by her hands, and hers with mine. We never touched our own clothes. With lips continuously locked, and breaths taken through our noses, our hands became busy with exploring. Thumbs brushed over nipples. Fingers squeezed the supple flesh of breasts. I found her ass was firm, but not rock-hard. My thigh became wet as she humped her pussy against me. Similarly, I found myself sliding my own pussy against her similarly slick thigh.

I automatically felt myself leaning with her as her hand briefly left my body to initiate the water for the shower. A few minutes later, she checked the water, then adjusted it again. A moment later, I was following her in stepping over the side of the tub and into the warm spray of water. We finally broke out years-long kiss. I immediately missed the connection.

We luxuriously shared the warm spray of the water. It felt so good on my sore muscles after a full day of driving. Tasha's hands gently moved over my body and through my long red hair as I soaked up the revitalizing liquid. My hands were not exactly idle either. It wasn't just the mater of thoroughly soaking her hair either. Her glorious blonde locks were like magic in my hands. I loved running my fingers through them. When I wasn't running my fingers through her hair, I was gently palming her full breasts with my hands, making sure that she was fully covered with the raining water.

"Move over, Darling." She whispered as she guided me out of the water's path. I heard a soft sound as she pumped a handful of shampoo into the palm of her hand. She began at the top of my scalp, gently massaging the shampoo into my thick hair. She massaged it into the top of my head, then moved down to the sides. Eventually, she manipulated the luxurious suds to the back of my had, then throughout my long mane to the tips of my red curls. If you have never had a lover sensuously wash your hair, I highly recommend it. My trimmed patch of copper curls above my vagina was soaking wet, and not just from the water spraying from above. Once the shampoo had been thoroughly applied, she leaned me back into the spray of water to rinse it out. As the directions say, lather, rinse, repeat. Reread this paragraph for the repeat.