Chapter 2

The girl in the pale green dress sat stiffly on the far side of the seat from the driver of the truck, eyes wide, staring straight ahead at the high beams of the headlights. She didn't notice anything-the tumbleweeds, sagebrush, occasional road signs or buildings-briefly illuminated in the passing glare as the tanker rocked down the highway. The driver glanced into the rear view mirror, frowned, then reached up to adjust the mirror, leaving a dark smudge on the glass where he'd touched it.

Fearing the fast-approaching lights behind him might be those of a Texas Ranger, he slowed his speed by ten miles an hour without touching his foot to the brake-simply easing off on the gas for a moment. But the headlights whizzed on by, belonging to a brand new Cadillac. The driver tromped on the gas again.

He was so covered with grime, he had explained to Cassie, because he'd had to change a tire. Fella didn't know what grime was until he'd changed a tire on one of these sumbitches. The backs of his knuckles were skinned, and he had dirt in the hairs of his forearms as well as all over the front of his T-shirt. However, the underarms of his T-shirt were brown with stains, and irregular circles of stain went down the sides from where he'd sweated different amounts on different days; and his Levi's, once a faded blue, were black in places.

This girl, who sat silently hugging the door, had begun to annoy him. He'd been real friendly. He'd cracked his best jokes, and she hadn't laughed. He'd tried out his sweet talk on her, and she'd hugged the goddamn door all the more. She hadn't even said where she was from or what she was doing on the road this time of night. Prim bitch! Who did she think she was? "Christ," he said to himself, "I wouldn't fuck her now if she got down on her knees and begged for it 'til she was blue in the face." But no sooner had he said that to himself than he looked at her again out of the corner of his eye-appraising those tits of hers, wondering if they were real.

He couldn't see the outline of them now, be cause she had folded her arm, the one nearest to him, across them, fingers clutching the doorframe where the window was rolled down.

This man made Cassie nervous. Every time he looked at her chest with that leer in his eye, she cringed inwardly, afraid he was going to reach out and soil her new dress.

The night passed in silence, neither speaking. It was less than an hour before sunrise, the first rays were already beginning to light the sky behind them, and Cassie was tired, wearier than she'd ever been. She had never been up this late before, and stayed awake now only by holding her eyes 'way open, pretending they were propped open with toothpicks, and biting her tongue.

At dawn the driver pulled his rig off the road and onto a large graveled area which served as the parking lot for the Short Stop Cafe.

"I'm going to go have me some ham and eggs and a cup of coffee," the driver said. "You hungry?"

"N-no," she stammered. "I don't think so. I think I'll just sit here a minute first."

As soon as the driver was out of sight, Cassie planned to run out to the road and stick out her thumb again. They had parked on the far edge of the lot, facing away from the road. Several other rigs were between them and the Short Stop. Cassie could see out her window, and looking down the road until it became a needle point and disappeared from view, she couldn't see a single car coming. She sighed, and decided to stretch out on the seat for a minute. She lay on her side, knees curled. If a car comes, I'll hear it coming. In the morning you can hear a long ways off, she mused, and it was her last conscious thought before she succumbed to the needs of her tired young body.

The driver placed his order, then walked on back to the rest room. He urinated and then looked in the mirror, seeing that his hair needed combing. When he reached for his comb, he realized his wallet was missing and remembered that he'd left it in the glove compartment.

When he rounded another rig and glanced into his cab, wondering what that prim little bitch had been up to, and didn't see her head and shoulders in the window, he had two thoughts at once: first, Well, the little twat skeedaddled, and second, She's run off with my wallet!

Tensed up, not knowing which way to run to catch her, he jumped up on the running board, then slowly began to relax when he saw the figure lying face down in the seat, one knee slightly bent, her cheek on the back of her hand. He opened the door and, putting his knee on the seat beside her hips, opened and reached into the glove compartment for his wallet. Making no effort to be quiet, he looked at her eyes when he closed the compartment door, wanting to see the look on her face when she saw him hovering over her. She didn't flicker an eyelid. Why, she's sound asleep, he thought, peering at her a bit more attentively and noting she was breathing deep and regular, her full lips slightly parted.

He rocked back on his knee, casually taking in the girl's waist and the width of her hips. Slowly, not wanting her to wake up, not just yet, he lifted her dress by its hem, revealing the pale skin of the backs of her thighs. She didn't stir as the dress settled about her hips. For several long moments the driver was spellbound by the way her expanse of buttocks filled out the silk of her panties. Through the white sheerness he saw the crack between her cheeks, but his view stopped where the silk was double-layered at her crotch. He pushed a steady slow-moving finger beneath the silk and lifted, then slid his finger around between her legs and pulled the panties aside.

His heart skipped a beat. His eyebrows went up and the eyes themselves took on another dimension as they seemed to glass over. He licked his lips as he marveled at the sleeping girl's cunt; the sight made his blood move faster in his veins, causing his prick to stir in eagerness. And those thin blond hairs! She's such a prim bitch, a fella'd never guess she had a pussy like that! In the morning stillness, three fingertips pressed between her legs.

Cassie woke up, gasped, and tried to flop over, but the driver was ready for her. Her scream died before it could leave her larynx, stopped short as he pressed into the middle of her throat with the fingers of both hands, shutting off her windpipe.

Cassie almost blacked out. She thought of the sudden darkness before he let go, not knowing if it would be forever or not. She heard him say, "If you try to scream, you won't live to make another sound. Now spread your legs." It took her a moment to figure out what he wanted her to do.

Before she could coordinate his command with her body, his knee was on the back of her right thigh; when he put his full weight on her, she got a charley horse. He pulled her other leg out until it dangled in the expanse over the floor pedals and bumped the steering column. He frowned for a moment before he bent her leg at the knee, shoved it forward, twisting her foot until he got it up and into the gap in the circular steering wheel, and then pulled it on through. When he shifted the gear stick on the floor into first, bringing it flush with her thigh, she couldn't move. This all took less than twenty seconds. Cassie was now trapped and vulnerable, buttocks arched, panties gathered in her crack. With two fingers he pulled the silk out of her crack, whipped a jackknife out of his pocket and cut through the material. Her defenseless pussy was now naked to him, and wide open, subject to any indignity he wanted to perform.

Where there had been three clear smudges on her cunt where he'd touched her with his fingertips, the cheeks of her ass now became smudged as he squeezed them, and in another moment, the entire area between both widespread thighs from her anus to her clitoris and beyond became almost black as he clutched, pressed, and rubbed with his hands. Grease and everyday Texas dirt clung to her once-yellow hairs and filled the wrinkles of her pouting pussy lips.

Cassie had been plucked and pried to the point where the smooth skin in her slit was as grease-smeared as the rest of her, when, abruptly, he rammed two fingers deep into her tender passage.

Her spine snapped like a bullwhip, and she would have screamed if she hadn't known he'd kill her if she did. As it was, she almost Vomited at first when he twisted his fingers around, cruelly brutalizing her most sensitive part. It pained her less when he began to pull them out almost all the way-very slowly-before ramming them in again. And then, something happened to her down there-her cunt involuntarily let out a spurt or two of its own fluid-and his fingers began to slide in and out with greater ease. It tickled her now-she didn't like it, but it reminded her of how it felt when she did it to herself.

He panted now, except that he panted through clenched teeth as if he were in pain or had just run a furlong. Where his cock had been hard before, now that her cunt had become so soft and slippery, melting like a popsicle on a summer sidewalk, his cock grew an inch and began to twitch of its own accord. When he pulled his hand away from her sopping cunt, those two fingers were clean compared to the rest of his hand, as if somebody had taken him aside and scrubbed those two fingers for him.

He zipped down his pants and for a moment was afraid his cock was so hard it was going to pop a hole in his underpants before he could get them off. He hoisted himself over her, grinning lewdly down at her pussy and terrified expression, and rubbed the head of his huge, throbbing, blue-veined cock in the slippery fur-lined furrow of her snatch. He took aim, pausing to make sure the glans of his prick was centered right at the heart of her opening.

When Cassie had felt him withdraw his hand earlier, she was suddenly relieved that it was all over now, that she could pull her dress back down and go get a ride with someone who was nicer. She really didn't know why he was hovering over her the way he was. Now he was rubbing her cunt again-this time with something warm and throbbing-something that felt hard but spongy. She tried to see what he was doing, but her position made it impossible.

Then, abruptly, she felt the pressure down there splitting her already widespread thighs. "You're hurting me," she whimpered, now suddenly frightened-terribly frightened.

"Baby, you ain't saying you ain't ever been fucked before." He guffawed. "A nice little pussy like yours-that ain't no cherry, I can tell. Now you're going to get a little of my big old cock here-shoved right in so deep you'll think it's coming out your cotton-picking throat. Here it comes."

The driver bucked his hips and suddenly Cassie remembered the carrot. Only this was no carrot; it was twice as big, three times big, as the carrot. "Agggghhh, you're hurting me." Her pitiful pleading did no good, for the truck driver merely began ramming into her as he sought to lodge his thick prick in the heart of her womb. Suddenly there was intolerable pressure and pain. "AGGGGHHHHH, no!" she screamed, and was immediately rewarded with a forearm pressed against her throat, shutting off her air supply.

"I warned you," the driver snarled. "Another peep out of you and I'll knock your fucking bitch's teeth down your goddamned throat."

"You're hurting me," she repeated. "Please."

"Honey pot, you got the tightest little cunt I ever been in before; I almost think you probably are telling the truth about being cherry. Well, here's where we find out." The driver reared back, then rammed his prick in with the force of a runaway truck careening downhill without brakes. Down, down, down his cock slammed, down through fleshy barriers that parted reluctantly before the brutal onslaught of muscle, gristle and blood-engorged nerves and tendons.

"Aaaaggghhh," she moaned, and futilely sought to push against his chest. Her protests fell on deaf ears, for the truck driver's eyes were glazed as he felt the warm sheath of her cunt clasping and unclasping around the head of his cock. He slammed forward one final time and his testicles slapped against the backs of her thighs; the bristly hairs of his scrotum tickled and invaded her anus.

Her cunt was stretched as it had never been stretched before. It felt as if she had pushed three or four carrots in there, only this throbbed and had a heat. What was this thing he'd shoved up her? It felt so big and hard ... was it a monkey wrench or some other kind of tool he kept between his legs? She didn't know. She was mystified, frightened, for she had seen only a few penises in her life, and never one in a state of erection. Her young mind failed to make the connection between the limpid pee-pee-pointers she'd seen and this wedge of gristle now stretching her tender cunt to its utmost, stretching it anew with each new thrust, filling her so absolutely full that she thought she would suffocate.

The driver held still a minute. Almost as an afterthought it occurred to him that what he'd first noticed about this girl was her tits. Without further thought he reached around underneath her and gave a mighty pull, popping buttons and tearing fabric. Then, pulling from the neck, he yanked the torn dress down off her shoulders. Cassie found her arms-still in the sleeves-yanked straight down. Her arms wound uppinned to her waist at the elbows, making movement impossible. It was almost as if she were in a straitjacket.

The driver fumbled, but try as he might, he couldn't get his hand into her bra, which seemed several sizes too small for the globes of succulent flesh. He picked his open jackknife off the dashboard and cut the straps, then yanked the worthless garment out from underneath her.

Cassie's breasts dangled, swaying as his cock once again began churning her cunt. Reaching around with his free hand, he squeezed her breasts, compressing the flesh, and amazed at their soft resilience. He rubbed his callused fingers on her nipples, which immediately stiffened up into firm little Tinkertoys, then squeezed some more as though he were playing with a sponge.

"How do you like that, baby? I'm getting to you. I can tell, your little ole pussy's heating up something fierce down there."

Mortified that he'd torn her dress and distracted by what he was doing to her breasts, Cassie became aware again of what he was doing inside her vagina. When he had first shoved in there, her cunt had been so mercilessly stretched that it became numb, and now she was conscious of his pumping in and out-and it was as if she were an old unused tire being pumped up and made new, only with something more wonderful than air, something that played in every nerve in her body. Involuntarily, as the sensations washed over her, she began to rock her hips, wanting to open herself more to this new sensation.

One of her feet was hooked into the steering wheel and the other leg was pinched in the corner of the seat. Her elbows were held by her dress to her sides, and yet, desire awakened, she managed to push her cunt up and down beneath his cruelly plunging cock.

It was too much for the driver as the sudden familiar feeling of release swept through his heated, expanding balls. He was all too conscious of the soft warmth of her buttocks pressing into his hips and belly, and of her breasts filling his hands. He was caught up by the moving masses of her softest parts, hazily aware of them then as, caught by her cunt in a vise-like grip, his aching throbbing prick began to explode, shooting one spurt after another of hot sperm deep into her bowels.

Cassie held still, eyes opening as she wondered what was happening down there. She felt her inmost chamber being flooded. The promise had been real-he had pumped her full of something better than air. But on the heels of wonder came disappointment. That good, wonderful feeling that the carrot had brought to her had been so close to whatever the driver had been doing, but now that promise was fading and she felt strangely hollow inside as the driver's prick went limp and he collapsed on her.

She had been pushed half off the seat in his final battering of her, and one breast dangled. She looked at it and frowned. Why, her breast was black-black with grease! Only then did she think, He's touched me there! She remembered that her father had once beat her half to death when he thought she let a boy touch her and, of course, she remembered her more recent whipping about the carrot. In her dazed state, she confused them. The sun was up. Her father was up, had found his credit cards, and was chasing her. Her new dress was torn and her breast was black with fingerprints. If her father found her, he wouldn't stop with a beating. No, he'd shoot her with his shotgun. Caught in a maze, she didn't know what she was going to do, how to get free and reach her wider horizons. She stopped a tear, but realized too late that, scared half to death, she was powerless to stop the flow at the other end. She shut her eyes as the pent-up urine hissed from her cavity.

A stream of hot piss struck the truck driver right between the balls. He screamed as if scalded and flopped back, his cock coming out with a plop, as the helpless girl's pee shot out onto his legs as well as hers and all over the front of her dress, splattering over the dashboard and draining onto the floor and into the worn cowhide seats.

Cursing angrily, the driver turned her to her side. He yanked her foot free of the steering wheel, and mopped up the seat with the back of her dress for a moment before reaching past her to open the door on the far side of the cab. He shoved her bodily out onto the gravel. Her arms were, for all practical purposes, still bound, and she had no balance. She landed on her feet, however, and staggered several steps, reaching the dirt at the edge of the gravel before falling to her knees. He threw her overnight bag out after her, then scrubbed the seat with every available rag, throwing each in turn at the girl who was trembling and half-naked beside the road. He then pulled up his pants and took off, his rig crunching gravel as he left the parking lot, the sign on the side of the truck flashing in the sun.

Cassie stood still in the morning air. She wanted to sit down and cry, but managed to catch hold of herself. After all, she was standing out in the open, her titties blackened, her arms caught behind her, her dress hopelessly torn and soaked in pee besides. She had never been more vulnerable or helpless. It would be just my luck to have a Hollywood talent scout come by right now, she thought.

After a moment, she pulled herself together as she heard the high-pitched whine of a car motor in the distance. Quickly, she freed her arms, and although protected from the view of the Short Stop customers by a rig, she pulled her dress up to cover her breasts with one hand and with the other picked up her more-scuffed-than-ever bag and ran between two trucks at the far end of the lot. There she let her dress fall, tugging it down over her hips, dropping it on the gravel. Opening her bag, she took out her one change of clothes, a skirt and a sweater. The skirt was white and had pleats. It was much too short and too tight for her now, but it had once been her favorite. And the sweater-when she pulled it on, the material stretched taut across her full breasts, looking then like some open-knit outer garment, but still as loose as ever around her tiny waist. She next lifted her purse out of the overnight bag and stuffed her two movie magazines into it, as well as her mirror and hairbrush. There wasn't room for the curlers, so she left them in the abandoned bag. She stepped out from between the trucks, then retraced her steps to rip the hem of her ruined dress to extract a damp twenty-dollar bill.

Cassie went into the Short Stop, pausing for an instant by the door to locate the rest room before walking quickly to it, looking neither to her right nor to her left, hoping no one looked at her ... yet feeling eyeballs all around her. Between the time she stepped out from between the trucks and reaching the entrance, a little green sports car had pulled into the parking lot, zipping up and spewing up gravel right in front. As she opened the Short Stop door, the car's driver climbed out. From the corner of her eye, she saw that he had brown hair just over his ears and a mustache, and wore an open-necked blue sports shirt. At first she hoped she attracted his attention, then remembering that she must look a fright, she walked quickly, hoping he didn't look too closely.

She locked the door to the ladies' room and quickly stripped off all her clothes. She looked in the mirror and thought, Good gosh! Not only did she have black smudges on her breasts, behind, and cunt, but she had dirt on her knees, streaks of wetness on her thighs-and her face was streaked. Using paper towels and the gritty Boraxo from the soap dispenser, she scrubbed herself from her hairline to her ankles. The towels were rough and the soap stung her most sensitive parts, but she hurried. She scrubbed with vigor, wanting to be clean. She hurried because she wanted to have a choice of the man she rode with next. She had already picked him out and was afraid he might zip off before she finished, that sports car of his spraying gravel as he left.

Jerry Parnell had driven seventy-five miles in an hour that morning before he found a place that suited him to stop for breakfast. He always stopped where the truckers stopped-that was usually a sign of decent food served with a minimum of fuss. He ordered his breakfast steak and, until it came, thought about the girl he'd seen, wondering what had happened to her.

He had been surprised at the sight of her for several reasons. First, what was a chick who looked like that doing out here in the middle of nowhere, Texas? Second, what was she doing out here in nowhere dressed like that? She wasn't wearing a brassiere! While he was accustomed to the sight of braless girls in New Orleans and San Francisco, it was pretty damn unusual out here in the sticks. And her breasts had wobbled so enticingly as she walked around the corner of the restaurant. And third, why had she been crying?

Once his food came, he lit into it, and the perplexing girl left his mind only to enter it again after he had finished his steak. Suddenly she came out of the powder room, took one long penetrating look around the restaurant, then came over to sit down across from him at his table.

She smiled nervously, hesitant to speak. She seemed younger than he had thought on first impression. He spoke his thoughts. "What in hell is a chick like you doing in this dump at seven in the morning?"

She was tongue-tied for a second, then shrugged, "I got stuck here. I need a ride."

"Which way do you want to go?"

"The same way as you," she said. Then, afraid he'd think her forward, she added. "I-uh-I saw you drive in. I mean, I hope you're still going that way," she said, pointing west.

"I am," he said. "Have you had breakfast?"

"Uh-no," she said, her eyes flickering, not wanting to have to tell him what had prevented her from eating.

From the way she hesitated, he assumed she didn't have any money and was afraid to say so. "Well," he said, smiling encouragement, "Let me buy you something, while I have another cup of coffee. Then we'll hit the road." Without waiting for an answer, he called the waitress and ordered the girl steak and eggs. He spent money freely. He had money to spend. He was just twenty-five, and he had a lot of it. He had made it all within the past year.

"How old are you, anyway?" he asked.

"Eighteen," she said, trying to look older.

"Oh?" He glanced at the red of her nipples, plainly visible through the holes in her green knit sweater, and conceding that she just might be eighteen at that. Good likelihood in fact, he thought, as one of her nipples pouted and poked cleanly through a gap in the knit. He watched her as she ate ravenously. Then, aware of the speculative stares of the truckers, he paid the bill and followed her outside.

He was again surprised when she climbed into his car. A woman can climb into the lowest of sports cars and remain modest-it was tricky, but anyone could do it. Jerry had found that most older women mastered it-at least the first time or two he took them out. Young girls, however, didn't seem to care. They always spread their legs, rather than moving both together. When you held the door open for a broad, that was one of the few times you could stare frankly and openly up the skirt of a stranger and not have her think you were hard up. Having had his car a year now, Jerry had grown blase about it. If he was curious what a girl was wearing, he looked; if not, he didn't. He was quite curious about Cassie. Cassie had never ridden in a sports car before and was thus new to the game. It took her a while-holding her left knee high in the air like the rest of them, only longer-while she figured out a place to put her foot.

And all the while he stared at her, the rubied bloodshot eye of her cunt winked back at him, surrounded by its aura of freshly scrubbed wispy yellow fleece. The saliva ran thick in his mouth, and after shutting her door he had to breathe deeply to steady himself before going around to his side of the car. Already his cock was crawling inside the tight confines of his trousers. This had the makings and the promise of being a very heavy trip.

"How far you going?" he asked, suddenly thinking that since she didn't have any luggage she might be going only to the next town.

"L.A."

"Why L.A.?" he asked, relieved. "Hollywood," she said, as if that explained everything.

"Oh," he said, suddenly wanting to laugh at her naivete, but containing himself. "You want to be in the movies."

She nodded her head, somehow embarrassed at his tone of voice.

"Well, you've got it all over any ten actresses I can think of right offhand ... you should be a big hit."

"You think so?" she asked eagerly. "Sure," he said. "Can you act at all?"

"I can learn."

He was silent for a moment, thinking out his plan. He argued it all through before he said thoughtfully, "Have you ever thought about San Francisco?"

"San Francisco what?" she asked, obviously puzzled.

"Hollywood is falling apart," he answered earnestly. "Their movies aren't making any money. It's a very chaotic situation down there. The place is dying off, and only diehards are left there now." He paused to let this sink in before continuing. "There are a lot of movies being made right now in San Francisco. San Francisco is the film capital now. It's where the really hard-core ... er, the real avant-garde is today."

"The which?" she asked.

"The avant-garde," he said, glad of the opportunity to correct himself. "That's where the real action is. It's the fore-front of what's going to happen everyplace else tomorrow."

"It is?"

"Yes. What's more, it's easy to break in right now in San Francisco. You just have to know one or two of the right people, and someone'll give you a chance to prove yourself. Why, take anybody, take your favorite actress, and you can place a bet she was once a member of the avant-garde."

"Dee-Dee Ann Mauvequim," blurted Cassie.

"Why yes! I was just thinking of her. She got her start in the avant-garde. Christ, she'd never have made it in Hollywood. In Hollywood you have to sit around and wait for a talent scout or somebody to notice you."

"I know," she said resignedly. Most of what he was saying was brand new to her, but she'd read about talent scouts.

"You ought to give it some thought," he said.

"I will," she promised.

He was quiet for several minutes, letting her mull this over, watching her out of the corner of his eye. When he thought the time was right, he said, "I know a man who produces movies-good friend of mind."

"Do you!!?" she squealed.

"Sure. If you get tired of Hollywood and decide you want to get some experience acting, just come on up to San Francisco."

They talked as they zipped across Texas. She was comfortable with this man who seemed to know something about movies. She thought that he seemed like a nice man; the other man, the truckdriver, hadn't been very nice at all.

Even as she was thinking of him, some fifty miles ahead of them a truck-the sign on its side reading West Texas United Natural Gas-left the road after failing to make it around a bend. It bounced across some fairly rough terrain before it lost a wheel, burst into flames, and exploded. Speculation was that the driver fell asleep at the wheel-someone following a hundred yards back noticed his head bobbing-but no one was ever to know, because he went up with his cargo. Cassie and Jerry zipped by the still-smoking wreckage at noon, passing with only a curious glance; and Cassie had no way of knowing that the blackened corpse still locked in the warped cab was someone she'd known intimately.

The dead driver left an impression beyond the fiery grave, though, and thus in a sense achieved some sort of immortality. With her knees on the dashboard, Cassie lowered the back of her seat and dozed off about noontime; she fell asleep without being nervous, but as she drifted off, a fire, kindled at dawn but still smoldering, burned in her loins. Perhaps the car she rode in-the purr of its motor or its rocking motion-had something to do with it. She slumbered soundly, her dreams hazy and pleasant.

After a while Jerry eased the blower on full-it had been half-open and a brisk warm breeze had blown in on them all morning-and slowly accelerated the car. The increased velocity of wind within the car soon had the desired effect. Her short skirt was lifted into the air by the breeze and blown back, baring her fluffy yellow triangle.

When her knee swung down from the dashboard as they rounded a curve-none too smoothly-Jerry adjusted his rearview mirror so he could look at that pussy of hers. He knew he would send them flying off the road if he looked at it too long or too hard, so he just glanced at it every now and then out of the corner of his eye, watching its hair blowing in the breeze, happy to know it was there when he wanted it. After an hour or so, it became a real effort to keep his attention on the road, and before he could tear his eyes away he almost rear-ended a Volkswagen. The warm breeze combined with her subconscious memories of the rape caused Cassie's rubied lips to part slightly. Droplets of pussy dew glistened in the late afternoon sun, and her clitoris peeked its gleaming tip up from amidst the fleshy folds.

Jerry couldn't take it any longer. His cock had been rock-hard for almost an hour. He used his free hand to yank her skirt down so she wouldn't know she'd been naked and pulled the sports car off the road. The vehicle bounced a bit as they hit the turnout, before skidding to a halt. Her eyelids fluttered and she started, making little half-lunges toward sitting up. But before she succeeded in either opening her eyes completely or sitting up, Jerry had lowered his seat and propped himself up beside her on an elbow. A hand on her shoulder, he bent to kiss her.

Her lips-as was everything else about her-were soft and pliant. The way they melted beneath his, the way her tongue came to life and honeyed his, no one would have guessed it was her first kiss. Without hesitation, his hand went under her skirt and his fingers sank right into the middle of her throbbing liquefied slit. She moaned softly, rolling her eyes and bucking her hips.

Never one to mince words, Jerry said, "I want to fuck you."

"Fuck me?" she said, not knowing what it meant.

"Yes," he said. "In just a minute now I'm going to fuck you silly. What do you have to say about that?"

She still didn't know quite what he meant, but his voice was so sexy and nice that she was sure he didn't mean anything bad by it. "I don't know. Will I like it?"

"You can count on it."

"Okay," she whispered, as he did several things at once. He pulled her sweater out at the waist and in one motion lifted it to her armpits, freeing her braless breasts, which slid slightly to the sides with a quaking wobble. He pushed one of her ankles into the far corner of the driver's seat, and her other out the car window. Then, crouching on the floor like a hungry animal, he eyed her pink, moist, fur-lined furrow before slipping his hands down between her warm buttocks and the leather seat. He grasped the succulent globes of flesh in his hands and raised her love-starved snatch to his face.

"Oh? Oh? OH! It's ... it's...." Cassie panted, unable to finish the sentence, as the first touch of his hot hungry lips drove little devils of delight screaming through her entire abdomen.

Jerry could taste the slightly alkaline residue of the Boraxo she had used to cleanse herself earlier. It was not unpleasant. He licked her pubic hair and inner thighs, noticing that his tongue brought immediate little goose bumps to her flesh. The sun reflected a fine sheen of perspiration on her inner thighs and outer folds of pussy, and the cunt itself smelled of new-mown hay. He swallowed, feeling her buttocks trembling beneath his hands.

Then, without warning her, his tongue suddenly flicked forward like heat lightning.

"Ohhhh ... aahhhhh! Beee ... uuuu ... ti ... ful. Beautiful! Jerry ... Jerry! JERRY!" The scream of wantonness was ripped from her lust-constricted throat, and with superhuman strength she grabbed his ears in an effort to shove that wonderful tongue, that tool of pleasure, in her as far as it could go. She wanted him to lick deep, deep, deeper than the carrot had gone, and in her mind she could feel it licking at her cervix, licking at her coccyx. She splayed her legs out wide in an effort to make even more of a present of her pussy.

Jerry's educated tongue crept maddeningly along the one side of her cuntal lips; it reached the anus, then started back-slowly-up the other side. Her vagina twitched once-twice!-and he taste the first oozing of nectar from that corolla of nerve and soft-flesh endings. Her cunt juice was sweet; he was a connoisseur! As she began squealing in wantonness beneath his ministrations, he gradually became aware that this was the first time anyone had ever eaten her pussy. The thought goaded him, and he shoved his vibrating tongue deep into her snatch, pausing at the inner labia, before licking them. She screamed and began buffeting her pelvis up and down against his face.

Cassie's body was beginning to tremble all over; she had never had the shakes like this before. But then, neither had she ever felt the way she did now as his tongue quivered, drove, licked, and scoured her femaledom. Then, just as she was building to an explosion down there, he pulled his face away.

"No...." she whimpered. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

Jerry laughed at her innocence as he used his thumb and forefinger to peel apart the cuntal lips. The clitoris, like some bashful little brown almond, came into view. He bent forward again ... and gently bit it!

"Aaaaaaaggghhh, JERRY!"

The boy began swirling his "tongue around and around the base of the clitoris, all the time feeling a wonderment at the girl's actions. Christ! She was really turned on! She was so fucking hot that she was about to go out of her mind. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought someone had slipped her a kilo of Spanish fly. Her cunt had begun oozing large silvery streams of lubricant, and she was slippery enough to take a railroad tie, he thought.

Abruptly he became aware that she had ceased breathing and her ass was arched up off the seat as though she were strapped to an electric chair. She was about to cum; she was reaching for her climax. His hands had been freed by her sudden stiffening, so he used his fingers to brush her swelling nipples. She punched up higher against him, as his tongue traced fire from her clitoris to her anus, racing madly back and forth before plunging deep into her hot wet center. He drew her puffy inner lips into his mouth and began sucking voraciously, the back of his tongue brushing her throbbing clitoris as she began to rotate her hips in her desire to bring back that rocking sensation, all the while thrusting her breasts, one and then the other, into his massaging hands.

Quickly, he was atop her, pausing to lick some green lint from her bellybutton before fastening his mouth on her left nipple, rolling it with his tongue as he guided his aching prick to the dripping lips of her cunt-mouth. She had thrown her arms back, but he took her hand and guided it to his thick shaft. She opened her eyes in surprise when she felt it-it was so velvety! so hard!-no monkey wrench this. She rubbed the glans of his cock up and down her slit before aiming it at her own aching hollow center and pulling it in, wanting that big cock to ream her little cunt clean through.

He entered her slowly with many quick little thrusts, the rippling edges of her cunt clinging to him and sliding away as the throbbing head of his prick opened her channel. Even though he stuck it in slow and easy, she was a little numb at first from the sheer size of it. It took her breath away and she didn't know what to do with herself until its prodding head touched the deep end of her cunt. Then she moaned and gave herself up to the rocking sensation now stealing upon her as he began to churn her with his prick. She swivelled her hips from side to side, jerking her pelvis up to meet this marvelous thing like nothing else in nature. When it threatened to leave her she felt empty and ached for more; when it came back in she went all tingly and her head spun.

Jerry knew he had her now and began to move more rapidly, bucking his hips until his balls slapped her anal crack with resounding smacks, his prick making plopping noises as her rippling cuntal ridges drew him back into her overheated suction cup.

Cassie rocked with more vigor, with more and more sway, until she knew herself now to be spilling over.

Jerry suddenly stiffened, then shouted, "I'm cumming. Oh, God, baby, it's great ... beautiful!

I'm cum-mmm-ming!"

She made a long moaning sound through her nose, her cunt tightening around him as he began to send hot cum roaring into her, spurt after protracted spurt-and then her breath caught as her body truly went haywire, jerking frenziedly from the spine, as the exquisite velvet explosion hit her. It seemed to last an eternity before it tapered off into a fluttering sensation of absolute peace and relaxation.

When Jerry got his breath back, he said, "You throw a really wild and groovy fuck, lady."

She blushed. "So do you," she whispered, at a loss for words.

"And you got a great pair of tits," he said, squeezing one about its base and shaking it, appreciating the sheer softness of it in contrast to the bones of her rib cage.

She didn't say anything, but blushed more deeply in silent joy, wearing a goofy grin of happiness....

His prick now limp, Jerry eased it out and then rolled onto his side, curling slightly so his backside touched the door on his side of the car, and looked at the girl, whose eyes fluttered shut again. She'd only had an hour's sleep, and many demands had been made on her young body. She was too exhausted to draw her right leg in through the window. Her full lips were parted, and perspiration beaded on the upper. After admiring her breasts for several minutes, idly teasing one of her nipples back to life and flicking it back and forth with his finger, Jerry inadvertently glanced into the rearview mirror, which was still trained on her cunt. At the unexpected sight of it-its soft inner folds a deep vermilion and glistening, cum gathered and seeping from its orifice, its sparse beard of blonde hairs so diffused with sunlight that at first glance you didn't notice them-Jerry's prick stirred.

He picked up Cassie's hand and guided it to his growing manhood. Opening her eyes, she squeezed it, and with her soft cradling touch it continued to grow. She discovered that as she continued to hold it, its outer covering peeled back from its tip to reveal the purpling glans. She marveled at its perfection and held it in awe.

Not until she felt a finger snaking easily into her own hot moist insides did Cassie realize that her cunt had begun to ache in earnest, and ache for something more substantial than a finger. She wondered if she could ever again use her own wee fingers to effectively soothe her cunt when it began to ache. Or use anything else? It seemed that nothing but a cock could really do it right. Would she be dependent now for the rest of her life on these huge blue-veined organs men carried between their legs, forever spewing hot cum like fire? she wondered.

Fully aware of the signals generating within her pulsating pussy, Jerry scooted into the middle of the seats-one buttocks on each seat-straddling the gearshift. Grabbing her thigh just above the knee, he pulled her leg back into the car and in one continuing motion pulled her over on top of himself. He then guided her other leg so that it was spread in the opposite direction, her knees in the far corners of the seats. Her elbows on either side of his head at the top of the rec-lined seats, she was now poised above him on all fours, her ass in the air and her breasts dangling almost to his shoulders.

He paused for a moment, calling a time out, to unbutton his shirt, revealing well-developed pectoral muscles covered with a handsome mat of hair. As soon as his nimble fingers freed the last button, his hands shot to her hips, forcing her down onto his shaft, lunging with his own hips as she did, lodging its fiery head just inside her creamy pussy.

Feeling it within her, its immensity on the verge of plowing her, she reared up far as she was able before hitting the roof of the car-as if she could take it better upright-then slowly settled back onto it. Her breath came in tiny little gasps until its tough gristle had penetrated her to its hilt. Its skin seemed to cling to her own. She wanted to moan, but held back until she was totally engorged; then her breath escaped her in one long nasal groan as she collapsed onto Jerry, her breasts smacking his chest.

Jerry clutched the cheeks of her ass as he withdrew his prick and lunged in again, bringing another moan to her lips. He held her still, wanting that hot slippery cunt right there, its very hotness and wetness a balm on his cock.

Her bottom was held in a vise-like grip as her eager pussy was pummeled and raked. The action caused Cassie's head to reel for a moment before the fire building up in her scorched and throbbing channel reached her spine and sent her toes tingling. Then her body's central nerve began to jerk with each thrust, and she whipped her torso in time with the powerful thrusts. Her breasts alternately swung up and came down on Jerry's shoulders with a smacking noise, their tender nipples growing erect at the touch of his wiry chest hairs.

Despite his grip, she began to undulate and rotate her pelvis, twisting down on him when he lunged, and up on him when he withdrew-and in doing so she discovered to her surprise that although a cock might seem rock-hard, in a way it was limber, too. Cassie tested this limberness as she felt the force of his thrust on all the walls of her overheated cunt. Whipping and twisting her body atop his, she wanted him to cum! She wanted him to inundate her very center; she wanted to drown in a flood of sensation.

Totally absorbed in the moving flex of her body, Jerry held the globes of her ass firm, and still she twisted like a demon. She was going absolutely wild-was uncontrollable-as she pounded her tits against his chest, moaning now in one long continuous sound, going "OHHugOHHuhOhh!" Her face was flushed, eyes closed in rapture.

When Jerry felt her most meaningful muscles tighten in a ring around the base of his cock and refuse to let him go, while she viciously ground herself onto the impaling shaft. Every muscle in her hot, slick cunt contracted on him. Suddenly, his balls pulsated as the pent-up sperm left his body in giant spurts.

"Yess, yess!" she cried, throatily, feeling his liquid gift extinguishing the inner fires. "Oh ... Oh ... God!" The tide of her own orgasm overcame her and she fell forward, panting in happiness. She felt utterly relaxed now. Her spine went weak and her once-flapping breasts lay still between them-He let go of her buttocks, his hands, thumbs twitching, sliding off. And, although they both had come, she continued to slowly grind the tight ring of her vagina on him for several minutes, seemingly wanting to milk his testicles of every last drop of semen.

Neither of them mentioned Hollywood again. Both understood she would go with him.

It took them three and a half days to reach San Francisco. What Jerry anticipated to be a two-day trip from West Texas was drawn out when they rented a motel room after an eight o'clock dinner each night, a room they didn't leave until noon the next day. It would have been a mere three days, at that, because he made good time when they did finally hit the road.

Then they became sidetracked in the middle of a hot afternoon outside of Bakersfield, California.

Cassie was lying with her seat rec-lined, the wind playing with the edge of her skirt, as she read a new movie magazine, when she happened to see him glance at her thighs. A minute later, he glanced a second time. Quite casually, she turned to her side lying for a moment with her knees in front of the gearshift and shins along the edge of the seat, propped up on an elbow-but this was a stall, a momentary pause, because a minute or so later she lifted her upper leg, thrusting her hip up a bit so her knee touched the roof of the car, as if bracing herself, and her foot rested on the dashboard. Presented with the wide "V" of her legs which also created a "V" in her crotch running from the tight line between her buttocks and widening with the fluffy hollows between her thighs on either side of the puffy rubied mound-Jerry looked at her face. She held her magazine up between them, but he knew that behind it she smiled.

His hand reached out, casually cupping her mound. When she drew her knees toward her chest without closing them and wagged her pelvis, a finger slid with ease into her dank depths. She lowered the magazine and sighed.

Jerry was in a quandary. His left hand firmly gripped the steering wheel, and his right just as firmly clutched her pussy. Which way to turn? He could not long divide his attention. He wanted to reach San Francisco that night. Cassie wanted to dally. He pulled into the first air-conditioned motel they saw. And thus they became sidetracked in Bakersfield when he decided he might as well pamper the girl.

He was playing it safe, indulging her. He had plans for her. Grand plans. He wasn't bullshitting: he really did know a man who produced movies. Dirty movies!