Chapter 8
Earlier that morning, long before Becky and the boys had picked up Mike and Wendy, Ted Spencer had a flat tire in the suburbs of a small town east of Denver. When he found his spare also flat, he kicked the hub cap in anger and looked around for a telephone.
"Don't look so frowny on a nice morning like this, mister," came a voice from over a white picket fence. He looked around to see who was being such a wise ass and his eyes met a leggy girl with a broom straw in her mouth. She looked about twenty-three and had long, wavy black hair that was tied in pigtails.
"You'd be 'frowny' too if you had a damned flat and no spare or any way to get one," he informed her. He was in a hurry to catch up with the van and the delay irked him so much he honestly didn't realize how attractive she was until later.
"But you have a way to get it fixed," she said. "If a telephone's all you need, you can use ours. Come on around to the front gate."
He relaxed some. After all, the girl was simply trying to be pleasant. No reason for him to take out his anger on her. And besides, she was even offering him a way out of his predicament.
She showed him into the house and pointed to a hall phone. He called the AAA and was told their truck was out. He would have to wait. He scowled and slammed down the receiver. When he turned around he saw a glass of cold beer setting in front of him. His hostess was sitting in a lounge chair with her legs crossed at the ankles.
"If you have to wait, won't that help a little? You're welcome to wait here until you can get something done with the tire," she offered. Then she made a mock-angry face and added, "If you promise to keep that terrible look off your face, that is."
Her warmth and humor won him, not to mention her very sensuous body which he was just beginning to notice. "Sorry," he said, and told her just enough about his situation to avoid any embarrassing details.
"You're lucky," said the girl, who introduced herself as Kay. "You're just passing through this hayseed town. When you get your flat fixed you can leave. I'm stuck here all summer."
He winced a little at the way she referred to the town. The one he was from was about the same size. But nothing about him gave away his secret, so he kept his mouth shut. She told him she went to college in California and was home for summer. She had been promised a trip to New York, but her parents had called it off because she'd "been naughty" at school.
The way she said it made him wonder just how she'd been naughty, but he didn't ask.
"Thanks for the beer," he said. "I better go back to the car. I'm sure your parents wouldn't feel right about you entertaining a stranger here when they're gone."
She laughed. "But don't you see?" she said. "That's exactly why I can entertain you here. They're really gone-to San Francisco and won't be back all weekend."
The way she was talking made him take a whole new look at her. She had just told him a lot more than was necessary. And something about the calm, casual way she sat with her long legs draped over the lounge added to the notion that she might be wanting someone to make things a little bit more exciting for her. She acted like a princess in exile. Like a princess who wants something between her legs, he thought with a smile.
He sat back down and started having thoughts he was afraid he'd be sorry for later. He had to quit losing time like this, he told himself. No telling where Becky was by now. Kay's voice brought him out of his deep thoughts.
"Your glass is almost empty," she said, taking it from his hand. "More beer, or would you like to switch over?"
"To what?" he asked.
"Wine, maybe," she replied, "bourbon, Scotch-you name it, Daddy keeps his liquor cabinet pretty well stocked."
"But you aren't drinking anything," he complained. "I don't want to sit here and guzzle drinks while you sit there without one."
She gave him a little smile and said, "I just gave you the beer because you looked hot and tired. And I'm offering you something else because it looks like you're going to have a long wait and you seem all keyed up, so a drink would help you relax. But when I drink this early in the day I... well, I get a little too-I just probably shouldn't have one, that's all. At school when I drink I sometimes get... get-" she interrupted herself and laughed-"well, my roommate says I get a little forward. That's the way she describes it."
She turned on her heel before he could respond and headed for the kitchen with his glass. As she walked, he took his time and got a nice, slow look at the way she was built. Besides the long black hair and the confident way she spoke and moved, he was very impressed with the shape of her firm, rounded little bottom. And another thing-in spite of her long legs, which made her look taller than she really was, she was quite petite... probably not over 5' 3". Something about her small stature was very appealing to him. Was it because of little thirteen-year-old Strawberry, back at the hippie camp? He put the idea out of his mind.
From the kitchen she called, "If I have one with you, what would you like? You said you'd drink if I would. Name it. We have everything."
"How about a martini?" he asked. "Can I trust you to make a good one or is that-" he began.
"Good choice!" she yelled, interrupting him. "Wait and see what you think when I bring it in."
He relaxed against the back of his chair and thought of how sexy she looked in her clothes. She was wearing a miniskirt that came to a provocative point just below the curve of her obviously firm little buttocks, a loose fitting cotton pullover top, and pure white pantyhose over low, black patent leather shoes. The top was especially sexy for him. Usually he liked to see a woman wear tight-fitting clothes that let him see how she was built. But Kay's loose top somehow had a different effect on him. Its very looseness showed just enough of the outline of her breasts to make him wonder just how they would look naked. The very mystery of the indistinct shape excited him greatly.
When she entered the room she was carrying a pitcher of martinis. Just as I hoped, he thought, a whole pitcher. If I'd asked for a highball she'd have just made a single glassful for each of us. This way we have a whole damned pitcher in front of us. I'll just find out how fucking forward she gets when she drinks before this little affair is over. I bet she needs it bad.
He drank long and deep. He could practically taste no vermouth at all. It seemed almost straight gin. And this time she sat in a different chair-one that was directly across the room from him. It was higher than the lounge she'd been in earlier and from his position he could see a very long way up her slender, panty-hosed thighs.
He made small talk all through his first martini and when he asked for another, she poured herself a second one along with his, without batting an eye. Just one drink, indeed, he thought. This little bitch is just dying to get drunk and have a reason to let a guy feed her the meat. Although she was several years older than his daughter, he couldn't help comparing them and thinking how mad he'd be if his daughter let a strange man in the house and acted like this. Maybe it was her small size. Whatever it was, he began to feel another emotion along with his growing passion-a kind of loathing. He felt she should be punished in some way for acting so forward and showing her desire so plainly.
Halfway into her second drink she swung her slim legs up into the chair and turned sideways. She sat there with the glass in her hand just looking out the window, an arrogant little smile on her face. He felt a strong desire to do two things-snatch her naked and fuck her, then humiliate her for letting him do it. But he'd make it a little more gradual than all that.
"What are you thinking about?" he inquired. "Looks like you're in the middle of a daydream."
"Oh, nothing," she said, her voice vibrant and husky, "at least nothing I should tell you."
The comment itself was arrogant enough, he thought. When she added insult to injury by turning her head in a knowingly provocative pose and gracing him with a blase, little smile, it was too much.
"No, you're wrong there," he answered. He didn't raise his voice but the very fact that he opposed her made her take note. "You don't even have to tell me, because I know."
The smile faded from her face and she turned to him in genuine interest. She felt a change in him.
"What you're thinking about," he pursued, his voice still level, "is a nice big prick, aren't you?"
She opened her mouth to speak and her eyebrows arched in surprise and indignation, but he cut her off.
"That's it, isn't it, honey?" he continued. "Sure it is, don't try to hide it. You're thinking how it'd be to have a nice fat one up your hot little snatch and you know damn well the way you're acting is making me get a big hard on."
She sputtered. "Really, now! How can you say such things to me. Why, you're... you're insulting me! You're sitting here in my own house talking filth to me. What in the world's wrong with you? Who do you-"
"You call it 'filth,' but you love it, don't you?" he broke in. "You know god damned well you want to be spread-eagled on your back with a big fat one reaming you. Nothing's wrong with me, honey, it's you. 'Cause you throw that fine little ass of yours in a man's face and then aren't woman enough to admit it."
She was shaken. She put her feet on the floor and stared in disbelief. "You can just get out of here," she barked.
Ted moved to the edge of his seat and set his drink down. "Oh, I will," he told her, his voice rising a little. "I will. After I've stripped your hot little ass naked and fucked the piss out of you!"
At first she had looked outraged, then frightened.
Now she simple sat and stared at him in fascination, like a bird watching a snake. "I've got it for you," he said with confidence. "Oh, I've got it for you, all right. Right here between my legs I've got exactly what you want and it's hard as a fucking hammer. Now where do you want it, honey? Am I going to have to give it to you right here in the living room or are you going to show me where your bedroom is?"
Kay didn't answer now. She had an almost respectful expression on her face. She shifted nervously on the edge of the chair and turned her head in short, jerky motions as she glanced around the room, outside through the window, and down the hallway toward the kitchen.
Ted rose to his feet and took a step toward her. "That's better, honey," he said, closing the distance between them. "You're a pretty strong little gal and you just aren't used to having a man talk to you like I am. You twist those college boys around your little finger when you're at school, and you don't know what to do when you meet a man who won't stand for it. Well, you're going to find out. Come on."
He reached down and picked her up off her chair, hoisted her in his arms and started down the hall. She was light enough that it wasn't difficult. No bigger than Becky, he thought. As far as height goes, there's even less of her. Wonder if some bastard's getting in my daughter's pussy right now?
When he got to the kitchen, he demanded to know where her bedroom was. She feebly pointed up a staircase off the main hall.
He grinned. "That's the way, baby. You just do what I tell you to and you're going to get just what you want."
As he ascended the stairs, he hugged her closer against him. He had one arm under her knees and the other under her back and was carrying her face up, her petite body limber and defenseless. He could smell perfume on her clothes. Her face was only inches away from his and he could see the firm swells of her breasts even under the loose, formless folds of her top.
She was calmer now. If it hadn't been for her ego, she would have been actually resigned to what was happening. "Is this the way you always take a woman?" she asked, some of the acid creeping back into her voice. "Do you always rape a girl?"
He reached the top of the stairs and carried on down the upstairs hall as he spoke. His face was flushed from the exertion and from the excitement caused by feeling her soft flesh in his power.
"This isn't no rape, Kay," he said, with a nasty little laugh. "You know that. Rape is when a girl doesn't want it, and you know damn well you do. Shit, your little cunt's already wet, I bet."
"You big bastard!" she cried.
He laughed again, knowing he must have hit on the truth. She was used to having things on her terms and it incensed her to have to accept his will.
All the doors were closed. "Which one? Come on, Kay, which door's the one to your bedroom?"
"There!" she spat, pointing toward a door with her foot.
He shook her leg and the shoe dropped off. He removed the other one by hand and tossed it on the hall floor toward the other one. "You won't be needing these, honey," he said.
As he pushed the door open and carried her over the threshold, he said, "You sure this is your bedroom and not your mommy's and daddy's? You wouldn't want to be fucked in their bed, would you?"
Again the picture of his daughter flashed through his mind and he considered how furious he would be if she did such a thing.
"It's mine," she grudgingly replied.
He sat on the edge of the bed with her and kept her in his arms. "This is where you sleep, huh? Right here in this bed? This where you get naked every night and slip under the covers? Bet you do a lot of playing with your pussy under there, too, don't you? Bet you lay down every night and put those fingers to work 'til you have it nice and wet, don't you?"
"None of your damned business!" she hissed. "It's none of your business if I do things like that or not!"
He grinned down at her. She was regaining some of her earlier fire. Her indignant response made him think she did a lot of masturbating and was angry because he would speak of such a thing.
He lowered her to his lap and scooted back on the bed so that her feet and head were supported by the mattress. Her buttocks and lower back touched the top of his thighs. She still made no overt move to escape, but the expression she maintained on her face indicated she would if she thought she could get away with it. Yet he had the definite feeling that she didn't really want to get away.
"Now I can finally find out what you look like under your clothes," he said to her. There was excitement in his eyes. "You let me get plenty of shots at these nice long legs of yours, but this damned top doesn't show off your tits at all."
Her eyes flashed a spark of humor. She was glad he had been attracted without being able to satisfy his curiosity. She knew very well she had an extremely pleasing shape and got a smug satisfaction from knowing he had wanted to see more without being permitted to.
He placed his hand on the fabric of her top and for the first time his fingers were able to touch the girl's breasts. He ran his hand over the thin material and his eyes glazed with desire as he felt the hard points of her nipples and the wonderfully firm slopes that rounded off beneath. "No bra, huh?" he observed. "I didn't think you'd have one on, you little slut, but I couldn't tell for sure."
Just like Becky, he thought, exactly the way she ran around all the time in Greenfield.
He ran his hand under the bottom of the garment and touched the nakedness of her stomach. It was flat, hard, and as smoothly textured as silk. He passed his fingertips lightly over the tiny, abrupt depression of her navel.
She obviously tried hard to keep him from seeing that she enjoyed the touch, but she wasn't able to mask it all, A deep breath escaped from her lips.
He pulled the garment up from the bottom and watched the slow exposure of her bare skin. Inch by inch, he approached the base of her breasts. Her nostrils flared.
"There ain't no way I'm going to be kept out of here," he said. "You got a pair of fine ones and you know it, don't you? All the men all the time sneak a look at them when you walk, don't they? Well, this man's going to see them, baby, and he's gonna see them naked."
He drew the top past the twin hillocks and stared at the rich, creamy bounty he had uncovered. "Urn umm," he cried, "what a sweet pair of tits! How can you stand keeping them things under there where nobody can see them, huh? God damn!"
Even though he had forced her to let him see them, his unabashed compliment fed her ego. He saw the corners of her mouth turn up but she kept her eyes cold, avoiding the smile as much as she could.
He ran his hands lightly but hungrily over the exposed organs and paused to tweak the dark tips of them with his thumb and forefinger. The taut flesh excited him immensely and he nervously titillated the nipples of both breasts 'til the motions of his hand became frenzied-he paused at one and pressed the sharpness of a fingernail into the yielding softness, causing her to cry out. It was more in surprise than in pain, but he was glad to force some kind of response from her.
"Ouch!" she said. "Damn you, what are you doing?"
"Getting you loose, baby," he said. "You're laying here, trying to hold it in and play like you don't feel anything, so I'm just making you admit you aren't made out of stone."
He rolled her off his lap and onto the middle of the bed, then stood up and looked down at her. The movement had ruffled her short skirt farther than ever up her legs but he still couldn't see her panties. Her top was all the way up, even with her arm holes and bunched around her neck.
"Take that off the rest of the way," he commanded, "and get that fucking little skirt off while you're at it too. It's so short you might as well not be wearing it, anyway."
She sat up in bed and, looking daggers at him, twisted her torso and drew the top off over her head. As she moved, he was treated to a view of her beautifully defined back muscles and to the firm bobbing of her naked breasts. Now that she was upright he could see how high set they were and it made him want her even more.
"There," she said, "my top's off. Good enough for you?"
"The skirt, too, damn it," he said.
She made a huffing noise and instead of doing what he said, she wrapped her arms around her shins and sat with her legs together, her nipples pooching out over her folded wrists.
"If you can see as much as you say," she said, "then you don't even need it off, do you?"
"Don't be smart, you slut," he spat out. "I can see plenty all right but I want to see your fucking pantyhose all the way to your cunt. Now get that skirt off!"
"For your information I'm not even wearing pantyhose," she said, a contemptuous smile on her face. "I happen to be wearing a pair of thigh-highs."
"What the fuck's that?" he thundered.
"This, you dumb bastard," she hissed, unfolding her arms and raising her miniskirt hem all the way to her waist. Her expression was still contemptuous, but she was smiling.
He feasted his eyes on the sensuous secrets under the sexy little skirt. It wasn't pantyhose she was wearing but it was something that turned him on even more.
The white hose she had been flashing around so much in the living room didn't continue on up and encase her pelvis. Instead they stopped very high up her thigh, as far as they could go. A wide rubber band held them up and accounted for the skin-tight appearance of pantyhose. Her underpants were separate, bikini style with bright flowers all over them. The yellow silk printed with blue petals stretched tightly across her rounded pubic mound and barely covered it. The sexiest thing, he thought, was the way an inch or so of her skin was left naked between where the hose tops stopped and panty legbands began.
He grinned lasciviously and stared at what she was showing him. "I don't care what the hell you call them fancy underpinnings," he said, "as long as you show them off to me."
She looked erotic to him as she sat there on the bed with nothing on but her white hose, bright bikinis, and raised miniskirt. He wanted to do things to that luscious body he hadn't even thought of yet. The shaft of his penis had been hard for some time, but now it started to throb.
"Okay, honey, keep going," he told her.
"You always make a girl do a striptease for you?" she asked impertinently. "Or are you man enough to take her clothes off yourself?"
She wanted it to sound like a threat but she couldn't conceal the fact that she was baiting him. The truth was that she was proud of her pretty body and simply loved to show it off to a man and have him crazy to get his hands on her.
"You were telling me how you always get 'forward' when you drink, remember?" he replied. "Hell, if you're so damned forward, looks like you'd want to do it yourself."
She was sorry he remembered her comment and didn't answer. He walked to the bed and leaned over.
"That don't mean I'm not gonna do it though," he told her. "Now lay down on your back."
She did it as though she was under terrible duress but he could see that she actually loved it. She was beginning to breath harder and he hadn't even touch her yet.
"Raise your fucking knees up," he commanded, and she did. He inserted a finger inside the skin-tight bands of her thigh-highs and peeled them down the firm flesh of her thigh. They had been on so tightly that an inch-wide red welt was left on the tender skin. He grasped her by the back of her knee and straightened the leg, then pulled the gossamer stocking past her ankle and tossed it behind him on the floor. With the other one he did the same, noticing with eager lust how the movement of the leg stretched the muscles of her groin and made the flesh between her legs tighten.
As he pulled it free, a sudden whim made him lower the sheer stocking to her chest and draw it flat and tight over the impertinent firmness of her mammaries. The girl's nipples poked through the material of the thin white stocking hard and dark.
"Haven't had a fucking brassiere on for so long, you forgot how it feels, haven't you?" he teased. "See, this is what you ought to do with them pretty little titties -keep something on them to hold them in. See, how does that feel?"
"If I did wear a brassiere, you'd want it off just as soon you could get it off, you bastard," she retorted. "You must really be sick stretching my stockings over my tits so you can see what it would be like if I was wearing one."
He was stunned for a second by the truth of what she said but he soon put it out of his mind.
"I'll show you how 'sick' I am, you sexy little bitch," he cried, kneeling on the bed beside her.
He threw the stocking over his shoulder and unzipped his fly. He brought out his erect member and held it out proudly in front of her.
"Does a sick man have a hard cock like this?" he demanded. "Hell no, he don't. If I was sick I couldn't raise a hard on."
The sight of the angry red color of the instrument, together with its undeniable stiffness, sent a shudder of warmth through Kay's nearly naked body. She couldn't help moving restlessly on the bed and he saw her do it.
"Getting horny now in the worst way, aren't you?" he teased. "Okay, off with your panties."
She put her hand to the waistband but he slapped it off. "Not you, me," he said.
He put his hands on both sides of her rounded hips and said, "Roll over, you prick teaser!"
"What?" she quibbled.
"You heard me!" he cried.
She rolled onto her stomach and felt his hands on her ankles. He pulled her legs apart so he could see between her tight thighs.
"Just what I thought, honey!" he growled. "You're so god damned wet the juice from your cunt's got your panties all damp too."
She felt a flush of shame. It was true, she knew. She'd been hoping he wouldn't notice. She was getting more excited by the minute under his authoritative control. But why did he want her genitals against the bed instead of up where he could see them?
She felt him draw the last remaining article of clothing from her body. The wispy panties were drawn down the lengths of her slender legs and disposed of with haste. She lay before him with the dome-shaped firmness of her naked rear exposed to his most detailed inspection. She lay cringing, with her face down, waiting for whatever mad thing he might do next, but there was no touching.
Then she heard his pants fall to the floor and his shoes come off. She heard his shirt flutter off. She looked back over her shoulder and saw him standing directly behind her with his member sticking out like a signpost. He was stepping out of his shorts.
"What are you going to do to me?" she asked, as though she had no idea what her present position called for.
"I'm gonna give it to you in the ass, honey," he informed her. "I'm gonna show you what that asshole's for."
"Oh!" she cried. It was so indecent. "Oh no!"
"Oh yes, honey," he growled. "Thought you was gonna get it where you wanted it, didn't you? Thought you was gonna have me ramming it up that juicy little cunt so you could get your cookies off? I know you're burning up to have a prick up your cunt, but I'm fucking you where I want to, not where you want it."
She had never experienced anal sex before. Her mouth went dry from fear. It was sure to hurt.
He straddled her legs first and reached under her anus to the front of her body, inserting his finger in the moist slit of her sex. She was so anxious to have it stay that she gripped her legs together and tried to hold it inside. But he removed it as suddenly as he had inserted it in the place.
"Huh uh, honey, just a feel's all you get," he told her, with obvious delight at teasing her. "Open up now, here's that prick you been thinking about so much."
He covered her, burying his face in the thick mane of her coal black hair and plastering his body to hers from head to toe. His very weight was strangely exciting in itself, she discovered, but she still wished for freedom. He widened his legs and supported himself on his knees. He lifted his body from hers enough to give him room to move his pelvis above her.
"If you're gonna come off, you'll have to do it through your asshole, honey. Here it is!" he cried.
Then she felt it. He didn't even stimulate the opening with his fingers before entering her. One second he was talking and the next, his missile-shaped glans was thrusting through.
"Argh!" she groaned.
"Hurt some, did it?" he asked. "Loosen up and you'll like it."
Again he plunged his organ home. It hurt again but the discomfort was accompanied by a little pleasure. He didn't stop. She could hear him breathing hard. He ran his hands under her stomach and put his palms on the nakedness of her breasts. Every time he powered his organ into her rear end, he gripped both breasts for traction. It seemed his big member went deeper with every stroke.
Suddenly he pulled it all the way out and sat down beside her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly turned her over. She thought he must be going to switch to her vagina but she wasn't even close. He was sweating and his face was red as a beet. He thrust his organ in her face and put his hand on the back of her neck.
"Eat it, baby!" he commanded.
She was horrified. Fellatio was one thing, but performing immediately after a man's penis had exited a girl's rectum was quite another. She jerked her head back.
"Oh, God, no," she cried, "don't make me suck you with your cock looking like that."
He grabbed her neck again. "If you'd wipe your ass good enough, it wouldn't look like that," he insisted. "Go on, suck me off, honey. I'm not through with your asshole yet. This is just a little break to let you have a nice taste."
She thought she was going to retch. "Oh, please," she pleaded, "please. Don't make me do it. You... you were right. I... oh God, I did want you to fuck me. And I did show off in front of you to... to make you want to take my clothes off and fuck me in the pussy. I admit it. Oh God, I admit it all. I was dying to have you fuck my cunt and I was wet from thinking about it. But... but please, not this. Not-"
"Take it, baby," he persisted. "Suck it and lick it good!"
Her breasts were sweating and rivulets were coursing down her sides and through the thick underbrush of her genitals. Her eyes flashed from his face to the meaty spike of his horrible instrument. She was so humiliated, she wanted to die. He bent her head down and she felt her lips touch it. There was no way out. She opened her mouth and closed her fresh, red lips on the head of the vile thing.
"That's it, suck away!" he ordered.
As Kay performed the unspeakable act, shame flowed through her body like the blood in her veins. But a strange new sensation arose and it came fast. Her... her loins were heating. The inside of her vagina was beginning to pulse. She attacked the nasty penis with open ardor. The fleshy lips of her vulva quivered.
"Eat it up, you slut!" he yelled. "Eat my prick!"
Her embarrassment knew no bounds. She twirled her tongue around the end of his penis like she was demented. She couldn't get enough of it. The noises she made were revolting, and the sound of them in her ears seemed to drive her on with greater and greater desire. She got on her knees and began working her rear up and down in a slow, gradually increasing rhythm that seemed out of her control. She felt the mouth of her vagina dripping a copious flow of moisture down her inner thighs.
She knew he was watching everything she did and that seemed to excite her even more. She put both hands on his organ and masturbated him so hard that her shoulders moved like a machine. The warmth in her genitals had turned to a hungry heat that threatened to burn the sweet wetness of her tender flesh like a torch. She moved her buttocks faster and faster and her firm breasts shook heavily on her chest. He had taken his hand from her neck; it was now completely unnecessary. She closed her eyes tightly and squeezed her moist thighs together.
"Uuuuuuungh!" she cried, a low moan that vibrated his penis like an earthquake. Then Kay jammed her buttocks up and down like a jack hammer and her wet, steamy organs contracted in a sharp, white-hot orgasm that left her laying on her stomach, gasping for breath. She felt the bed jounce and realized Ted was getting to his knees, then a warm gush of sperm struck her in the back of the neck and she realized he had ejaculated on her.
"Damn it," he complained, "I didn't mean to shoot off yet, you horny bitch. I wanted some more of that asshole. You got so fucking hot you made me come too quick!"
But in spite of his plans he thoroughly enjoyed the release her ravenous mouth had afforded him. He got up at once and dashed to the bathroom. The sight of his car out the window brought back his problems. He washed off, donned his clothes, and left Kay lying on the bed. She couldn't believe he was leaving.
"Wait!" she yelled. "Please! Come back! I've got to see you again. You taught me something about myself I never knew. Please, I'll do anything, I'll fuck you, I'll suck you, I'll go with you, I'll bring you other girls to fuck, I'll..."
Her voice faded as he ran out the door to his car. He looked down a side street and thought, Jesus, how could I be that stupid? There was a service station on a corner just two blocks away. Waiting for the AAA truck to return hadn't even been necessary. He walked to the station and, less than an hour later, he was on his way west again.
That Kay was a real snotty bitch, he thought, but I guess I taught her to not be so damned high handed. She deserved the embarrassing things he had done to her, he thought. But another thought haunted him. Just why was it he kept thinking of his daughter so often while he had been with Kay? And what, exactly, would take place when he finally caught up with his rebellious Becky?