On the Road

After the last shovelful was put into place, Eve said one final goodbye, got into her mother's car, and took the first highway out of town.

She and her mother had planned this trip for months. The nurse would give her mother a final injection, make sure the pain meds were working, then head off for the night. Eve would sleep until the returning pain woke her mother up, then, in the long hour before she could inject the next shot, the two of them would plan.

Her mother had been what everyone called a "good woman." Every church service she was there, playing the old organ and leading the songs. Every church social she was there, carrying a dish, helping to clean up. Every school event that needed a volunteer, every sickness in town, every death. Then, when it was obvious that treatment wasn't helping that the "good woman" would die, no one came. Eve dropped out of high school, stopped cheerleading, stopped dating, stopped everything and learned the truth about this "good woman."

She had always wanted to travel but she was a responsible daughter, a dutiful wife, a caring single mother, a devoted member of the church. She was obsessed with every cheesy roadside attraction, every historical marker, but she had never been to see a single one that didn't exist outside a twenty mile radius of her home. Eve had learned a lesson between sixteen and seventeen that most people don't learn until they had children of their own: her mother had given up almost everything for her and for other people. She had learned the strength that had taken and she was humbled by it.

Her mother had learned something those two years as well. Her vivacious, beautiful daughter, the girl who was head cheerleader as a sophomore, who laughed at disapproving looks, who laughed at everything, the girl who had somehow come from her was never, ever, going to be the woman she, herself, had become. Eve had sacrificed her last two years of high school and her mother wanted to be sure that her child would have more than she had.

And now Eve found herself on a highway in the middle of Iowa, her mother's old Chevy convertible as fixed up as it ever would be, a few bags in the trunk and what money was left in the bank. She had maps and maps, marked and scribbled on in two different handwritings, and an itinerary that would take her from the Heartland to the coast and then all the way across the country again. If she was smart, if she was careful, she could make it and have some cash left over, something to start a new life with, far from a small town in the heart of Iowa that she vowed she would never see again.

And so it was with a certain sense of irony that she sat in the car, the hood popped up and the top popped down, and tried to figure out what to do next. She was sure she knew the problem, a water pump, possibly another sparkplug wire dying its painful death, but first there was the tow to arrange, which would cost money; the parts to buy, which would cost money; and the mechanic to hire, which, she laughed out loud, would cost money.

She pulled off her sunglasses and met her own eyes in the mirror, evaluating what she saw. The blonde hair was fairly new, she'd died it to match her mother's and she had to admit, it worked very well. A sandy blonde, touched with the sun and full of highlights. It made her brown eyes look better, set off her skin. Her face, that she could see a few flaws in, but as far as she knew, no one else ever had. She had learned to use that face to her advantage and dealing with doctors and lawyers had only strengthened that skill. There was an innocence in the large eyes, the fine nose and high cheekbones, and innocence the smile could shatter. Looking down, she inspected the rest of herself. Years of dance and gymnastics had sculpted a long, lean body, all legs and fine curves, topped off with breasts some girls liked to snicker weren't possibly real. Any girl who'd been in the locker room with her could argue otherwise. Once the bra was off, they settled nicely, swung with a weight that begged to be touched. They weren't too large, something she was grateful for, just large enough.

But she was still dressed in black from the funeral, an old dress of her mother's that did little for her form. She'd driven all night in it, stopping only for gas and if traffic on this backroad highway held true to its patterns, she should have just enough time to change before the next car came by.

Shoes, thigh highs, panties were quickly shimmied down, a short, pleated skirt pulled up. The bra was fine, but the dress went over the head, a tight, white t-shirt that barely reached the waistband of her skirt taking its place. As she packed the dress carefully away, pulling out low white tennis shoes and a tiny pair of panties, she thought twice and put the undies back in the bottom of the suitcase. The shoes went on, the trunk went down and she almost skipped her way back to the front of the car. The breeze on her shaved pussy was warm, the sun was bright, and she had a plan.

She was about to scream in frustration when the sound of a truck reached her ears, bringing a smile to her face. Standing and watching, the smile grew even more when the truck popped over the hill. A tow truck. Her luck was improving.

She stepped close to the side of the road and jumped up and down, waving her arms, making sure there was no way she could be missed, not that she was too worried. But the jumping had always done interesting things to her anatomy and watching the stands at the games had taught her that it was the quickest way to get attention onto her when she wanted it. The tow truck began slowing immediately, the gears roughly downshifted, until it shuddered to a halt on the shoulder in front of her car.

The door creaked open and a tall man stepped out. He was in his fifties, she guessed, and had the build of a football coach, hard muscle covered with a touch of a paunch. His jeans were loose and stained with grease, his t-shirt smeared as well, but when he got close, she didn't smell any body odor beyond the musk brought on by the day and his hands were clean, even under the nails.

"Car trouble," the deep voice and the way he looked at her made her stomach flutter and he was even taller when he stood that close to her, not too close, but close enough to make her look up to meet his eyes.

"I think its the water pump again, do you think you could take a look?" she didn't play dumb or sultry, she straight lined it, but he looked her up and down all the same, his smile growing at what he saw.

Giving a nod, he moved to the front of the car, just brushing her with his arm as he passed by. She turned with him and leaned in as well, pointing out the parts as she named them, "The pump's been trouble for awhile now and the spark plug wires have been starting to go."

He nodded again and his arm brushed her chest for the second time as he reached for the plugs, giving the wires a shake and clucking his tongue, "Go and give it a try, let me hear what it does."

She headed back to the driver's seat, feeling his eyes on her, and slid in, obeying his instructions for ten minutes while he worked the engine.

"Miss," she slid out and trotted up, "I think you instincts are right, but I won't know until I've had a chance to get her up and look at her."

He jiggled some wires and she leaned in again, feeling the skirt raise up on the breeze, his hand freezing for a bare moment as it did. Eve kept her smile deep inside and threw her hair back, glancing over her shoulder with a slight frown, then biting her lower lip, "And that's going to cost me, isn't it."

The mechanic stared at her for a long moment, gauging her, and she met his stare. Then his hand touched the back of her thigh lightly and he smiled, just a touch, "Well, there's parts, labor, the tow," his hand slid up, reaching the bottom of her skirt, "It can get to be a bit expensive."

She had gone into this knowing what she planned to do, but the act itself was more intense that she imagined, her knees shaking somewhere inside, her own juices begin to coat the crease at the top of her thigh. She bit her lip again and then leaned subtly back into his hand, letting it ride up just a bit higher, until it nearly cupped the lower curve of her ass.

"I don't have much, is there anyway we could work something out?"

His smile grew and he pushed the palm of his hand against the fullness of her ass, moving the rest of himself a bit closer.

"I'll be blunt, Miss, cause I think we're thinking much the same thing," he cupped her chin with his other hand and lightly traced her full lips with his thumb, "This can get you the tow. Let me stroke this a bit," his hand moved between her thighs, feeling the wetness, barely touching her, "and I'll take care of the wires."

He leaned even closer, his mouth an inch from her ear, "And let me do more and I'll get this engine purring as much as you are right now."

Her own smile as she pushed against his hand, forcing his fingers into her wetness just a touch, was all the answer he needed.

She sat in the cab while he hooked her car and closed her eyes, her hands going under her skirt and lightly tracing her clit, teasing herself. Just doing this was excitement enough, but she wanted to keep herself at the edge. There was no guarantee, after all, that he'd be any good at it. Still, the way he had touched her, the feel of his hands had her hopes up. The door opened and she smiled with her eyes still closed, her hands still tickling herself.

"Now that's pretty," she opened her eyes just a touch and watched his smile as he crawled into the cab, settling behind the wheel and grabbing himself through his jeans, "Let's just sit for a moment and I'll watch you do that."

Her fingers grew more bold, but she kept her skirt low, giving him peeks and hints, saving the rest for later. He stroked himself carefully as well, his jeans still done up, then shook his head, starting the engine with a jerk, "Let's get to the garage before someone drives by. It's not a bad drive, you just keep doing that and it'll pass even quicker."

She wanted to spread her legs wide and slide her fingers inside herself, but she held back, keeping it to bare caresses, her skirt still down. It did make the time go quickly.

The garage was empty, the closed sign still up, and after he got her car inside, he left the sign that way, checking the locks before heading back to where she waited, leaning against the car door, her hands behind her, her heart pounding.

"Turn around," he pulled his shirt over his head, his chest whiter than his arms, but just as muscular as she thought it would be, his stomach a slight softness, the dark hair thick, "Lean over that door, little girl, let me get a look. What's you name? And how old are you? Gotta be careful sometimes."

She did as she was told, throwing her hair back, hands wide on the door frame, back slightly arched, "Eve. And I'm eighteen. You can check my ID if you like," she smiled over her shoulder, eyeing his crotch as he moved in.

He smiled in return, one hand repeating its slide up her leg, cupping her smooth mound, one finger sliding in between her wet lips and rubbing her clit. She shuddered and pushed back, "I'll trust ya, don't want to jinx this, do I. Damn, but you're smooth...and wet."

She moaned and twisted her hips slightly, bumping against him. She wanted to reach back and feel what he had, but he shook his head no and continued to work. His fingers were rough and large and they moved over her with practiced ease, teasing and parting her folds, barely touching a clit that felt like it was on fire, bringing her breath into pants, her skin flushing. His other hand slid beneath her shirt, cupping her left breast and giving it an experimental squeeze. His own moan signaled his approval and she smiled even more, desperate to give some of what she was getting, knowing that if she wanted it, she would have to follow his lead.

"Turn around, Eve, pull that skirt up, let me see," she obeyed languidly, her skirt rising slowly, until all of her was on display. He ran his hand over her again, then lifted her shirt, sliding her bra up and out of the way.

His mouth was hot, the whiskers that surrounded it quickly bringing a different sort of flush to her skin, but his tongue was perfect as it firmly rolled about her flesh, teasing her nipples until they stood tall, his teeth nibbling softly at the bottom curves. He was tall enough that he had bend down and push her back over the car door, his leg sliding between hers and giving her something to rub against.

The denim against her clit, the mouth that switched from one breast to the other was almost enough to set her over the edge, but when he slid a hand down her back, past her ass, one meaty finger sliding deep inside her with one firm push, she was forced over. Her head flew back and her hips took on a life of their own, grinding her whole body against him as wave after wave coursed through her, her mouth wide with a silent yell. He chuckled into her skin and fucked her firmly with his fingers through one orgasm, then, to her surprise, a second, before stepping away, leaving her smiling like a Cheshire cat and holding the car for support.

His smile was almost as broad and he motioned towards his own crotch, "That took care of the wires, but there's still the matter of the tow you owe me for."

She lowered herself gracefully to her knees, not bothering to fix her shirt or bra, and unzipped him, her eyes never leaving his. As her hand began to work its way inside his pants, she stopped and cocked her head to one side, "By the way, what's your name?"

He chuckled again, "Mark."

"Nice to meet you," and with that, her skin met flesh. He was hard and thick and she gave up on pulling him through the zipper, undoing the top button and sliding his pants down to just below his heavy balls. The sight that met her eyes pleased her anymore, his dick standing straight and tall, the head covered with precum. She darted a tongue out and took a taste, Mark's hips pumping slightly at the light touch. Again her tongue lapped lazily and this time he moaned, "Tease."

She gave him a reproachful glare then took a firm grasp and dove her mouth over him as quickly as he had slid his fingers inside of her. Her tongue pushed the vein, her lips were taut, and slowly and steadily she worked him in and out, stopping every so often to circle the head, her hand covering whatever her mouth didn't. His moans grew stronger and she could feel herself grow even wetter with every sound. Getting her feet underneath her, she raised herself up, sliding one of her own hands between her legs while the other kept her balance by holding him firmly, stroking and spreading the wetness her mouth left behind.

She could see his eyes close and his head drop back, one of his hands caressing her breasts while the other lightly touched her hair. Her own fingers slid inside of herself, then circled her clit, her mouth mimicking the motions on his cock. Then, as she could feel him drifting away from her, his mind only on the pleasure he was receiving, she took a deep breath and swallowed him even further. He could feel her throat muscles working, his dick farther in her mouth than he'd been in any other and he gasped and began pumping, taking her cue when she needed to breathe, reveling in the deep throating, his hand working both her breasts now. In a daze, he watched her hands working under her skirt, her hips pumping and with a yell, he let go, his cock all the way down her throat as he pumped shot after shot straight into her stomach.

She swallowed once or twice more, coaxing the last out of him, then stood up, leaning back against the car again, her own hands still working on herself.

"Damn," he whispered, then he dropped to his own knees, shoving her hand aside, and put his tongue to work where her fingers had been. She was sweet and salty, musky and clean, and he dove in, sucking first each side, then her clit into his mouth, fucking her with his tongue. She moaned and rubbed into his face, her legs shaking beside his head as he slid first one, then two fingers deep inside her. Just his fingers filled her completely, her coming orgasm gripping his hand tight, his tongue moving faster, more firmly. When she came, he doubled his efforts, determined to leave her exhausted, only wanting more.

Every inch of her body seemed to explode, her own screams echoing in the almost empty garage, her hands pinching her nipples hard, her hips slamming forward spastically. He slowed and she did, too, the last few waves washing over her, leaving her shirt drenched with sweat, her hair stuck to her cheeks. He stood then, and kissed her for the first time and she could taste herself on him just as he could taste himself on her.

Stepping back, he smiled again, then grabbed both her legs and lifted them high, his arms sliding under and wrapping about her hips, picking her up. He moved quickly to the work table and laid her down, keeping his arms underneath her legs, her hips cocked up, her arms about his neck. He was surprised, damn surprised, at how fast he had recovered and he wasn't going to let any time be wasted.

Slowly, he began to enter her, every bit of self-control he had keeping him from simply slamming himself home. She was tight and hot and her eyes closed with the sensations as he went in one inch, then out, then two inches, then out, until he was completely inside her. He set a slow rhythm at first, but when she slid her hand back to her clit and began to stroke, her own hips meeting his, his tempo increased. The whole work bench began to shake, their cries mingling, until it seemed the world began to blur. All he could think of was the tight young thing below him, the way she met him thrust for the thrust, the way she called out wordlessly when he hit home.

He could feel his orgasm building and he pulled out, taking the time to work one nipple than the other. Quickly, he flipped her over, her chest against the rough wood, her ass in the air. He slid home again and she yelped, her hands grabbing the far edge for support. He reached around and fingered her clit again, gratified to feel yet another orgasm rock through her, her muscles clenching him so tight it almost hurt, until his own orgasm hit like a bull.

He bellowed and stilled, deep inside her, feeling her last few tremors wrap up and down his cock, milking him dry. Slowly, he let his weight fall forward on to her back and he smiled to see her smile up at him.

"That'll take care of the water pump. I'll see what else I can come up with to fix."