Subject: Nomad's Delight(sp,M/F,sex)kfr
Date: 26 Oct 1997 12:56:14 -0800
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction containing adult themes. If you are not of legal age stop reading now. Any similarity between characters depicted in this story and persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Matt checked his right mirror before turning on his signal, then guided the eighteen-wheeler onto the exit ramp. It had been a long climb from the valley, jamming gears all the way, with jerk-offs in yuppy dork- mobiles at him every step of the way. One of these days, he thought darkly to himself, I'm just going to slam on the trolley brake and let some asshole bury himself in my trailer.
Jackie's Truck Stop always felt like home. Matt made an entry in his log, then shut the rig down and climbed out, stretching with the fatigue of many road miles and the tension of the long climb. Chill, crisp air filled his nostrils with the purity of mountain altitude, making him glad for the flannel shirt and vest he wore. Reaching up to the sky with cramped arms, he noted that the ragged, wispy white clouds overhead all had gray bellies, and seemed to be in a hurry. The next time he hit this place, it would probably be snowing. On legs made unsteady by miles of driving, he ambled toward the restaurant, glancing back over his shoulder at the only thing he really called home: that beautiful big Peterbilt, a full double-sleeper with all the comforts.
"Whoah, there!" he exclaimed, rounding the corner of the diner building, as what appeared to be a penguin in a parka cannoned into him. It wasn't a penguin, though, unless they'd taken to wearing hiking boots, he thought, smiling. Looking down at the missile, which had promptly fallen on its can after colliding with him, he offered a large paw.
"You okay, pardner?" he asked, expecting to help a child back to its feet. The hood of the parka fell back, revealing a beautiful face, a woman's face, and not quite a child. Somewhat frightened but very compelling black eyes looked up out of the prettiest little face he'd ever seen, assessing the threat from Matt's six-foot frame.
"Oh, Lord." Matt said, stooping to help her up. "I'm awfully sorry, ma'am, but you ought to watch where you're going, a little thing like you."
Helping her up, Matt noted that she was built pretty good, for a small woman. Dark shoulder-length hair spilled down around her face, a face that had a sensuous fullness, with a perfectly formed set of red lips and cute button-nose. The hand she gave him to help her up was small, like the rest of her, but elegant in its construction. Tipped in a shade of red that matched her lips, well-manicured nails adorned nicely tapered fingers. Pronounced swelling under her bulky sweater made Matt's eyes widen a trifle, and the tight jeans she wore revealed a lower half that stirred his imagination, and something else. She was captivating.
"Thanks." The pixie said, looking nervously over her shoulder. "I'm very sorry.., I just wasn't looking where I was going." Another glance over her shoulder made Matt wonder what she was afraid of. He still had hold of her hand, and became aware of a tingling warmth that seemed to emanate from it, making him want to hold on. Everything about her attracted him. Although slightly strained, her voice flowed through him like a warm river, making his insides quiver. Her angelic face turned upward, eyes roaming over Matt's weathered face with the squinty blue eyes; eyes that had seen probably twice as many winters as hers. There was a silent appeal in her gaze, something that touched a nerve deep inside him. Without warning, their silent communication was interrupted.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" a nasty voice inquired.
The girl jumped, letting Matt's hand go, while moving behind him instinctively for protection. Matt looked up to see a seedy-looking character in a shabby brown leather jacket, his face a stubbly mask of anger. His eyes moved from the girl to Matt, like a snake sizing up its target.
"And who the hell are you?" the apparition asked, taking a step toward Matt.
From behind him, Matt heard the woman say in a trembling voice,
"I'm leaving, Jerry. Right now, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"With this geezer?" the raggedy man rasped, "Don't make me laugh!"
Matt stood his ground, not sure of what he was into, here, just certain he didn't like this creep in front of him. Geezer, huh? He thought.
"Get over here, Gina, before I kick your ass!" the man called Jerry insisted, taking a step toward the girl.
Matt put a hand in the center of Jerry's chest, easily pushing him back. Something inside him said that he needed to intervene. His eyes bored into the man before him, sending their own message.
"I guess you didn't hear the little lady, pal." Matt said calmly, but with feeling. "She's not going with you."
Jerry looked down at the ground, frowning, then started to speak, and then threw a haymaker at Matt's head.
Many confrontations in small, seedy bars and truck stops along his route had prepared Matt for this moment. He saw Jerry's eyes widen just before the punch, and easily leaned to his left, avoiding the blow. Jerry's weight carried him forward, and Matt stepped in close, slamming his right fist hard into Jerry's stomach, just below the rib cage. Gina screamed as he went down like a sack of tapioca, gasping for breath.
Matt leaned over the retching man, taking him by the collar and warning,
"I don't know what you're up to, pal, but you'd better leave this little lady alone. If you have any smarts, you'll high-tail it out of here, savvy?"
No answer was a yes, as far as Matt was concerned, so he let go and turned back to the frightened but relieved Gina, who had one small hand up to her mouth. She looked like she wanted to cry.
"C-Can I come with you?" the scared girl asked, glancing down at the prostrate Jerry, the fear in her eyes obvious.
Matt shifted from one foot to the other, not quite knowing whether he was ready for this or not. Chivalry, or something like it, won out. Holding out his hand, he waited as Gina took it, then led her to the restaurant, glancing over his shoulder to make certain Jerry was still out of commission.
Gina moaned with delight as Matt's mouth roamed over her full breasts, taking the hard nipples between his lips, rolling his tongue around their sweet contours. His large hands, surprisingly gentle for their size and rough texture, lovingly caressed her flanks, sliding up and over, descending into the dark and moist valley of bliss between. Her breath hissed inward, her back arching as those hands found the nexus of her womanhood, probing, stimulating. Small hands ran over Matt's chest and back, as Gina explored the fit and trim body of her lover, older than her own, but no less attractive in its own way. Long, deep kisses followed, their tongues trysting wetly together, driving both temperature and desire higher and higher. Matt's mouth left Gina's, bound on a pilgrimage to a special Mecca, the vale of paradise. Hands twined in his sandy hair, Gina writhed under the gentle but intense probing of his lips and tongue. What had sung a song of desire in her mouth now played a symphony of satisfaction at the very core of her being, making her cry out with wave after wave of ecstasy. It was long after she desperately wanted him in her that he finally mounted, guided into place by her trembling hands. Feeling like she would turn inside- out at any moment, the universe burst around her in a blaze of colored light, sounds echoing in her ears, the blood pulsing hotly in her veins. Matt's slow, steady thrusting built to a deep, urgent tempo, reaching the very pinnacle as Gina's hands clenched the rough trapper blanket beneath her, a primal cry of pure pleasure ringing out almost simultaneously from both of them. Echoes of passion died away, leaving only the sounds of heavy breathing, loud in the relatively confined space of the double-sleeper cab.
"Who was that jerk?" Matt was saying, pointing a thumb at the parking lot.
"Kind of my boyfriend," Gina answered, a touch of either shame or regret in her voice, "but he turned out to be a real loser."
Supper turned into a long affair, the two talking for hours over coffee and desert. Matt felt like he'd known her all his life, and even though she was in her early twenties and only half his age, she made him feel like a kid again. Her intelligent conversation and easy, relaxed laughter erased the differences between them, putting them on the same plane. Much too late to go anywhere else, the two finally retired, quite naturally, to Matt's rig.
"You go on up and get ready for bed," he said, a gentleman to the last, "I'll wait `til you call me, and sleep in my clothes. Tomorrow, we'll find you a way to get where you're going."
Gina smiled warmly at him, and climbed up. It got chilly while he was waiting, but thankfully, she opened the sleeper door fairly soon after her ascent and called to him. Climbing up, he nearly fell back out again when he saw the sight that met his eyes. Kneeling in the center of the double-bunk, Gina was totally naked, her black hair cascading down around her shoulders, her lovely hands resting on smooth, glorious thighs, which were spread apart to reveal all her womanly secrets. An amorous glow lit the dark beauty of her eyes, which showed absolutely no fear or misgivings; just adoring desire. Matt swallowed hard as the door closed discreetly behind him. He thanked whatever Gods there were for this day, and for the incredible woman before him.
Head pillowed on his left hand, Matt looked down at the stunningly pretty face that rested on his belly. Black hair flowing around the full curve of her chin made her look like a Renaissance painting, come to life.
"Was Jerry your lover?" he asked, knowing the answer beforehand.
"Um-hmm." She admitted, her eyes seeking his. "But never like this." She finished, running one of her small hands over Matt's flat chest, toying with the sparse growth of sandy hair. Then, with a pixie grin, she said coyly,
"There was ONE thing, though." her voice trailed off.
Matt waited in silence, wondering what she was getting at. Gina's eyes sparkled as she leaned up to whisper confidentially,
"He spanked me whenever I was naughty." She giggled, taking Matt's right hand in both of hers. Her coal-black eyes glinted with a flickering light as she looked at him again. "Good and hard," she whispered, leaning forward, "and right on my bare bottom."
Matt got an instant erection, a cold-blooded stiffening that surprised him by its speed and rigidity.
"I'll bet you could do a much better job at that, too." She opined, holding his large paw to her face, rubbing it along her delicate cheek.
Gina had her answer in the glow that appeared in Matt's eyes, the heat that showed in his loins, and the acceleration of his breathing. She rolled over onto her stomach, giving him a better look at her delightful and sumptuous fanny, grinning at the way his manhood betrayed his feelings. Reaching out to his upright member, she took hold of it, caressing it lightly, teasing him.
"The only trouble is," she said with a pout, "is that after I've been punished, I feel like being naughty all over again." A delicate kiss right on the tip nearly caused him to have an accident. Speechless until now, he finally found his tongue.
"Well, little missy," he drawled, in his best John Wayne imitation, "you just get ready to be naughty, `cause I'm fixin' to paddle you good!"
Gina laughed, a mellow sound that bubbled up from deep inside her, and made as if to dodge away as he reached for her. Grabbing her wrist, Matt pulled her bodily toward him, reeling her in. Shifting to a sitting position, he hauled the diminutive girl across his lap, smacking her roundly on one cheek with his big right hand.
"Oh, Matty, please, I'll be good!" she giggled, egging him on.
"You bet you will, munchkin," he wise-cracked, slapping her again.
Her glorious bottom felt so good under his palm, the way it jiggled and clenched as he slapped away. Gina's giggling and teasing gave way to gasps and squeals as his big calloused hand stung her bare bottom over and over. Draped across his lap, she couldn't even kick effectively, and her right hand was quickly enveloped by Matt's left, so the poor girl got just what she had been asking for: a long, hard, and very thorough spanking that left her hindquarters totally aflame. Matt was surprised by how much he really enjoyed paddling the pretty little bottom before him, wishing he'd discovered this particular activity years ago. As Gina's bottom got redder and redder, she writhed and squirmed across his lap, crying and begging him to stop, but enjoying every stinging, smarting whack, and getting hotter with every second. As they both got more and more aroused, Matt slowed his spanking, then began to caress the remarkable bright scarlet of her behind. Turning her face up to nestle in his lap, kissing her face and hair, cupping one hard-nippled breast, his left hand went underneath her to explore the wetness there. Breaking away from an extended deep kiss, Gina squirmed off his lap and surrounded his throbbing manhood with her soft mouth, her velvety tongue driving him wild. The large and rough-hewn hand that had just punished her now caressed the damp tangles of her ebony hair, communicating to her a feeling of love and caring that had materialized between them, as if it had always been there, but just waited for fate to bring them together.
Spring in the foothills of the Rockies is like no other place in the world. Everything looks new and fresh, with gurgling streams and shocks of green grass sprouting as if in a hurry to prepare for the short summer season. Matt leaned on the air horn to warn some jerkweed tourist who had parked his car halfway off the road to take a scenic picture. Shaking his head in wonderment, he swung the loaded semi around the obstacle, grateful that there wasn't one of his counterparts coming the other way on this narrow road. Double-clutching, he grabbed a lower gear, watching the black diesel smoke whirling in his rearview mirror as the engine worked hard to drag them up the slope.
"Matty?" a voice next to him said cheerily.
"Yeah, hon?" he answered, turning to look at the shining face of his companion. She always looked like spring, he thought, just fresh and clean as an April morning.
"How far to the next stop?" she asked, seeking his eyes.
"'Bout a half-hour, kitten, why?" he replied, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
"I think I'm going to be naughty soon." She giggled, reaching over to place a hand on his thigh, headed for the crossroads.
Matt grinned, groaning a bit as the hand reached its destination.
"Gina," he said tiredly, "you'll be the death of us. Now, stop it before we have an accident. Gina. Gina! GINAAAA!"