Chapter 11
Then with a sinking feeling Ella knew she had gotten her calculations wrong. Fifteen miles an hour meant it took four minutes to do a mile. Three miles meant twelve minutes.
Twelve minutes! Nothing. Unless you happened to be a well-endowed woman with normal appetites, driving a truck, and facing the prospect of twelve uninterrupted minutes of a lovely boy licking your pussy while pushing a makeshift dildo in and out to churn your secret parts into a prurient passionate pudding of lust.
Slowly, she sank down from a pink cloud of passion and realized she held a potent weapon in her right hand. She squeezed the boy's cock harder. The boy moaned and stiffened momentarily, then redoubled his efforts. It felt so good Ella almost let go of his cock, of the steering wheel-of reality. Barely in time she got herself under marginal control again. She stopped squeezing the boy's cock and began running her hand up and down it. She was no longer concerned with finesse-only with speed. She held his cock in a firm, one-handed grip, slid his tight-stretched foreskin up and down around the thrumming rigidity of his cockhead, whacking off with no more skill or grace than some twelve-year-old's first fumbling efforts at sensuality.
With each stroke the angry purple head of his hammer was exposed. The boy wanted to stop her but he couldn't. In sudden exultation Ella knew the shoe was now on the other foot. With Mosaic jurisprudence she was paying the boy back in kind, crudity for crudity. Now she had him literally where the short hairs grow. Ella was not about to let go. The boy was gasping and flopping like a freshly landed fish, struggling to resist the overwhelming assault on his sensuality. He didn't want to come in her hand-didn't want to waste his precious load when there were so many other potentially more delightful ways to lose it only two more miles down the road.
But now Ella had him fair caught. She had not resisted or slapped his hand away when he began playing his kooky games with her pussy. Now he couldn't pull her hand off his magnificent hammer without violating the unwritten rules of the game he had invented.
Ella squeezed. She milked, she caressed his squirming scrotum until his testicles rolled over with delight. She ran a gentle caressing finger up and down the soft, sensitive underside of his bare cockhead. She tapped his asshole suddenly as twittery as her own.
Forgotten now was the tire club still stuffed into her. The boy's hand had come off it as he grabbed her ample ass with both hands and buried his face in her belly, in her crotch, moaning and crooning his joy as he strove to get his tongue into as many places as possible in the moment before he would expire in blurting, hurting, spurting release from this blessed torment.
Ella steered with one hand, gasping with relief now that the boy had surrendered short of making her come while trying to keep this lazing rig under control. The boy was thrashing uncontrollably and she could feel the rock hardness of his ready-to-explode rod. Suddenly she realized what a waste it was. A woman could come twenty or even a hundred times per night but a man's ammunition was strictly limited. If she were to provoke an orgasm now, that would be one shot, and she would never receive in her target area where it counted. She abruptly let go of the boy's cock.
He grabbed her hand and tried to put it back on his cock, gasping and panting. Ella remained adamant, her will harder than the boy's prick. Finally the worst of the storm passed and the boy understood the wisdom of her action. He gave a long, shuddering sigh, pulled his foreskin back down over the swollen head of his unprotected cock. Then he snuggled into her lap again, kissed her belly, and once more put his hand on the end of the club.
Ella had forgotten all about it. She was astonished. How, she wondered, could a woman actually forget that she had something as big and hard and thick and long as that tire club sticking halfway into her?
She could certainly not forget it now-not with his hand busily working it in and out of her again, his tongue licking her tight-stretched clit, licking and kissing her vagina each time the pulled-out club tried to turn her inside out. She could feel her insides moving, twisting and gurgling as they moved aside to make room for this invader, then flowed back into place as the blunt, flanged club pulled almost out, pulling the lining of her vagina behind it.
She debated whether to grab the boy's cock again and make him stop it or ... But the crisis had passed for her, too, during the exultant moment when she had been on top and calling the shots while the boy writhed with uncontrollable passion. Now she had cooled to a safe level where she could enjoy-actually appreciate this white ash massage like some gourmet of the erotic arts. She glanced at the odometer and at her wristwatch. There must still be at least two miles to go. She might as well concentrate on driving the truck and let the boy concentrate on what he was very good at.
He licked her, kissed her belly, caressed hips, ass, tits, did everything he could do in this awkward position to turn the tables once more and reduce her to the uncontrollable state the boy had been in a moment ago. But Ella had managed to catch her sensual breath. Now it was Just fun. The jolliest kind of fun she could remember ever having experienced in eighteen years of fucking, but it was still something she could live with-not something that was going to tear her in two and blow her head off with the accumulated pressure of rising passion.
She caressed the boy's firm body, tickled his ear and the nape of his neck and concentrated on her driving while he boy concentrated on his licking. There were, Ella decided, far worse ways to kill time. She didn't mind if tie boy amused himself this way all night. It was such a lovely, gentle turn-on.
Then Just as she was settling down to a nice gentle session of eroticism the boy began poking that damned club into her just a silly millimeter deeper, a trifle faster, and soon Ella was riding the crest of the wave again, soaring dangerously close to the point of no return. Damn him! Such a lovely infuriating boy!
She gritted her teeth and clasped her legs tight to try to slow down that busy hand with the club. She squinted at the flashing lights and suddenly she was suffused with blind panic. The lights were no longer in front of her. They were off to the right tilting crazily-or was she tilting, leaving the road?
She slapped the boy's hands away and in his surprise he pulled the club out of her with an audible
"Thuck" like the cork leaving a champagne bottle. She could hear it clear over the clatter of the fast-idling diesel. But Ella was too busy fighting the wheel to worry about things like that. What had happened? Had she let her attention wander and lost control?
Very slowly she realized what had happened. It wasn't her rig that was veering and tilting. It was the snow plow heading into an off ramp. She spun the wheel and the rig followed. A moment later she followed the snow plow's flashing red lights into the lot of a truck stop. It was crowded with trucks sitting out the storm. As she pulled into a vacant spot between two trucks, Ella was suddenly reminded that her pants were down around her thighs and she had a naked boy on the seat beside her.
She gave silent thanks to the gods of love that there seemed to be nobody in the cab of either truck. Hastily she got her pants up. The boy was scrabbling around on the floor of the cab getting into his shirt and jacket. Once he was covered from the waist up he sat in the seat to pull on pants, socks and boots. She checked him over and the boy was presentable. Rumpled, but at least he didn't have cunt hairs in his teeth. She wondered what kind of a horror she would present to the world.
She had the feeling that no matter how many layers of clothes she put on it would be obvious to any man who looked at her that here walked a woman who only moments ago had had a tire club stuffed up her snatch. Christ! How had she let herself be abused that way?
Then abruptly she wondered if the boy was having second thoughts, too. She had been taking a lot for granted. She had been making all sorts of plans that revolved around a hot bath and a motel room. But was the boy a willing part of those plans? Maybe he was more interested in making distance than in fucking. Chances were, while she was out arranging for a room if this crowded truck stop still had one, the boy would be out hustling a ride in the first rig that planned on leaving here. She remembered how she had awakened once before to find him driving.
A tiny tendril of fear ran through her as she realized this eagerness to be on his way might have sinister connotations. What was the boy running away from? Was he going to stay or was he going to go? There was one way to find out, Ella guessed. She asked him.
The boy didn't seem to understand her question.
"It's a simple matter of money," Ella explained. "If I'm just going to wait out the storm I can get a shower and sleep in the rig. But if you'd like to stay with me and pick up where we left off I'll rent a room and we can have a bath and-"
"Yeaaaaaaaaahhhhh!" the boy enthused. Before she could stop him the boy was burrowing into the front of her hastily zipped ski jacket.
Ella suppressed a secret little smile and made him straighten up and fly right. "Time enough for that later," she said.
Now that they were no longer following a snow plow it didn't seem nearly so bad outside. Ella surveyed the wet snow. This far south it would melt off in a day or two. The roads would be plowed out in another few hours. She remembered abruptly that she had not breakfasted. It was after dark and, apart from the boy's peanut butter and crackers she had eaten nothing all day. "Be right back," she said.
There was one room left. The truck stop manager gave her an appreciative look as he handed her the key and accepted the twelve dollars. "You'll get one back when you turn in the key," he explained. "Need anything else?"
"Haven't gone two hundred miles since I fueled up," Ella said. She consulted the thermometer in the window and decided to kill the engine. It wouldn't take more than an hour for it to settle down again in this weather and she didn't feel like leaving it idle more than eight hours. Walking back across the lot she discovered the boy had reached the same conclusion and already secured the rig. He swung down out of the cab with her suitcase in his hand and his pack on his back. They went into the motel room.
It was a pleasant no-nonsense room with a king-sized bed, a coin-slot TV, and the usual motel bedroom furnishings. Ella opened a drawer and found the inevitable Gideon Bible. The boy was already shucking his Levi's. Ella wondered whether he was going to tackle her first-or the bathroom. She began taking off her own clothes.
The boy's eyes brightened at the sight of her undraped forty-twos-just as if he had never seen her naked before. Ella felt a little thrill of desire as she looked on the naked boy but at the moment what she really wanted was in the bathroom: She padded off naked and barefoot into the bath, praying it might turn out to be a tub and not just a shower.
She bent over the tub and began fiddling with the faucets. The boy came up behind her and grabbed her ass. Without warning he spread her cheeks from behind. Before she could straighten up from the faucets Ella felt the round hardness of the golfball-sized knob on the end of the boy's long, elegantly slim cock slip smoothly past the ready-lubed lips of her vulva. Smoothly, but with the effortless irresistibility of a bulldozer, the standing boy rammed his cock full depth into her from behind. She tried to straighten up but he was holding her ass from behind. Ella felt slightly foolish in this ungainly position.
Trying to pretend nothing unusual was happening, she continued fiddling with hot and cold faucets until the tub was filling to her satisfaction. Then she addressed herself to the business at hand. In next to no time Ella realized that it is very close to impossible for a woman bent over with a man standing behind her, ramming his cock up her pussy, to pretend that nothing is happening.
For one thing she couldn't straighten up. For another, she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that she didn't want to. Ella had been fucked countless times in eighteen years of marriage but old Fred had always been partial to missionary position, with Ella flat on her back, knees flexed and thighs spread wide to make room for his body between them. Now for the first time she was receiving the entirely new sensation of a cock stuffed full depth into her cunt-far deeper than old Fred had ever managed to stuff his nubbin-and her legs were still closed together, her ass and thighs involuntarily clenched to prevent what was happening.
It was, she discovered, a totally new ball game. The boy felt as if he had gotten it into her, balls and all. Now that he had her thoroughly spindled on his prurient spike the boy relaxed his death grip on her ass. His hands ranged up her body from behind until he was cupping her firm forty-twos from behind, his hot hands making a fleshy bra for her lovely jutting jugs.
Of all the goddamned positions to be in! Ella had heard of doing it this way but she had always thought it was some kind of a joke. What could be sensual about stooping over and taking anonymous cock without even being able to see who? But as the boy's hands ranged up and down the front of her body, grasping her from behind, as his hard bony pelvis began slowly pushing against the tight-clasped cheeks of her ass, pulling out with a tight, rasping sensation due to the tight-clasped thighs that made the hot throbbing knob of his magic wand feel even bigger and harder than the tire club he had been using as a dildo, Ella discovered that she was once more fulfilling her resolution. She was about to have another new experience before she died.