Chapter 5
Sheila bolted upright when she felt the hand on her arm. Confusion and terror filled her mind as she shot furtive glances at the unfamiliar surroundings of the room.
"Oh, it's you," she said with relief when she saw Marcia's smiling face. "For a minute, I thought-" Marcia interrupted her with a comforting hand to her lips. "There's nothing to be alarmed about," she said, lightly kissing Sheila on the cheek.
"What time is it?" Sheila asked, yawning.
"It's almost one," Marcia said. After a brief pause, she added, "I wanted to wake you before the bank closes."
"The bank?" asked Sheila, not understanding.
"Well, you said you wanted to get away, and you can't do it without money, can you?"
"How stupid of me," Sheila said. Then a note of fear entered her voice. "But what if Charlie...."
"Don't you worry about Charlie," Marcia said. "He called a little while ago and I said I would take you home tonight."
"What?! " Sheila screeched out, "How could you-"
"I told him that, and he reluctantly agreed when I threatened him with the police. After all, it's still rape even if your husband does it. Anyway, I told him that to get time on our side. Get dressed, go down to the bank, draw out your money, and by tonight you can be a million miles from here."
"Marcia, you don't know how much I appreciate your help," Sheila said, getting out of bed.
Marcia hungrily looked at her naked friend, her mind savoring the memory of that delicious, hot cunt She fondly recalled the taste of those tiny pink nipples in her mouth, and that dewy, warm ass she had enjoyed only a few hours before. Her own body ached to pull the girl back down on the bed and never let her leave.
"You know, you can always stay here," she said, "the offer still stands, and probably always will."
"I appreciate that, Marcia," Sheila said, slipping into jeans and a blouse. She went over to her friend and hugged her tenderly. "I'd love to stay, especially after last night, but if I don't leave today, I doubt if I ever will."
She gathered her things together, her chatter continuing vibrantly. "Do you realize I've never been two hundred miles from where I was born?" Her decision to leave intoxicated her with a new feeling of vitality. "I'm going to live, Marcia!"
"If you ever change your mind, Sheila, you know you have a place to stay."
Sheila noted the sadness in Marcia's voice, and felt a pang of sadness herself. "You sound like I'm leaving forever. I'm not. I'll be back again, and when I do return, believe me, I'll be pounding on your door again." She pulled Marcia to her feet, and kissed her on the mouth. "I have you to thank, Marcia, and I'll never forget it."
Forcing back the tears, Marcia whispered, "Well, you've made your decision, I guess. I wish I could change your mind somehow, but down deep I know you are doing the right thing."
"If not the right thing," Sheila said, "at least my own thing."
"And what do you plan on doing, exactly? Besides leaving?"
"I'm going to be a famous singer," Sheila said simply.
"What?" Marcia said, laughing. "A singer."
Marcia looked at her young friend with affection, and happiness. "You know," she said, "you just might do it at that."
"Well, I hate long goodbyes," Sheila said, cutting short her longing to stay a few more minutes. "I'd better hit the road."
"Where to?" asked Marcia, following Sheila to the front door. "So when Charlie calls, I can tell him the opposite direction," she added.
'Tell him I've gone to Alaska, then tell him to go to hell!" Sheila said, grinning.
"Will do, chief," Marcia said, saluting with two fingers.
"Actually, I think I'll hit Memphis first, and if that isn't too promising, go to Nashville."
"You're serious," Marcia uttered with awe. "You're really serious!"
"Damned right I am. Read about me in the papers," Sheila said. She opened the front door, then turned to Marcia, whose expression was one of mixed confusion, affection and pathos. "Thanks again, Marcia. I'll keep in touch." She kissed Marcia, who stood dumbly, her hands at her sides.
Sheila bounced down the steps and got into her car. As she pulled out of the parking space, she took one last look at her friend and waved.
The bank teller counted out the money on the counter, his mind more on the luscious figure of the blond girl than on the bills. When he had finally completed the transaction, he asked, "You going on a trip?"
Sheila smiled and said pertly, "Sure am. As far as six hundred dollars and twenty-three cents will take me." She gathered the money into her purse and almost danced out of the bank, her heart singing.
She drove east on Interstate 30, and with each mile she put between the past and future, her body relaxed more.
Something in the back of her mind kept bringing Marcia's face into view. What they had done earlier in the morning had seemed so natural then, but now the physical sensations seemed to lack something, but she didn't know what. Sure, she had enjoyed it, those delicious feelings as Marcia had sucked and licked her pussy, but she had wanted more.
She dropped her right hand to her lap and rubbed her cunt, getting aroused as her fingers playfully toyed with the zipper. If only she could have had Brad and Marcia in bed, she thought, then it would have been perfect! She placed her hand back on the wheel and said to herself, I'd better stop this right now, or I'll pick up the first guy I see and fuck his teeth out!
As if fate had read her mind and obliged, she noticed the figure of a young man standing on the side of the road about a quarter of a mile ahead.
Teasing herself, she slowed the car down a little, to see what he looked like. As she passed him, she saw a good-looking face, a shock of dark-brown hair, and what looked like a terrific body. He had a guitar case strapped to his back, and a small canvas suitcase by his feet. Part of her desperately wanted to stop and invite him in, but the better part of her warned against picking up hitchhikers. Especially, she thought, carrying this amount of cash.
A feeling of depression hit her as she saw the young man look pleadingly at her, his thumb held high. She glanced in the rear-view mirror, watching the figure slowly recede into a tiny blur. Dammit, she thought, why didn't I stop? But then she knew if she had it to do over, she would have done exactly the same thing. She drove on, fantasizing about this young man, giving him a name, a certain tone of voice, an easy laugh. She tried to picture his hard cock as he slammed it in and out of her tight pussy. His meaty arms crushing her in a demanding embrace.
About five minutes later she noticed a roadside restaurant, advertising home cooking. Hell, if I can't fuck, I might as well eat, she mused. She pulled into an empty space and got out. She locked the car and walked in, noticing that all the tables were full. She sat down at the counter and picked up a menu. A few moments later, she was devouring a crisp salad, and fried chicken with delicious brown gravy. Sipping her third cup of coffee, she felt immensely better, the thoughts of the young man fading away.
Just as she was about to get up and pay her check, a voice startled her. "Food any good?" he said. The voice had a deep resonant quality. A voice she had heard before!
Without thinking, she blurted out, "That's how I knew you would talk!"
"Come again?" the young man said, a puzzled grin on his tanned face. He sat down next to Sheila, his eyes laughing, his smile revealing white, even teeth.
Sheila felt her skin grow hot with embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she muttered, "I thought I recognized you from someplace."
"Guess you did," he said, still smiling, a playful glint in his dark-blue eyes. "You were going hell for leather when you passed me up, back down the road," he chuckled. "You slowed down, and I thought I had a ride, but...." he said, holding up his hand in a futile gesture.
"I'm sorry," Sheila spluttered, "it's just that...."
"I know what you mean," the young man said, finishing her sentence. "It's not smart to pick up hitchhikers." He looked at her flushed face, and then let his gaze take in her sensuous neck and taut breasts. "Especially for someone who looks like you," he added with genuine appreciation.
Sheila didn't know what to say as her body tingled with excitement and pleasure. Finally she gained control of her voice, and asked, "Where are you headed?"
"Nashville," he answered quietly.
His answer took Sheila by surprise, causing her to overturn her coffee cup. "Damn, I don't know what's gotten into me," she said, flushing once more. "I seem to be so clumsy today."
"Here, let me do that," he said, wiping up the spilled coffee with several napkins. "Where you headed?"
"Well, Tm going to, that is, I'm...Nashville," she muttered.
"Oh," the man said, "relatives there?"
"No," Sheila answered, "it will be sort of a vacation, I guess."
'That's nice," the man said, looking at the menu.
Sheila looked at his strong hands as he ran his finger down the menu. Toying with the idea of feeling his hands cupping and squeezing her tits, she said without thinking, "As long as we're going to the same place, I suppose you could...." Her voice trailed off as he turned to look her in the eyes. She felt her throat constrict with pleasure as his easy grin returned. Her mind raced with a perplexing thought: Here I was, bragging about my freedom just a couple of hours ago, and now this man I don't even know could do anything with me he wanted! Some freedom, she mused.
As if reading her thoughts, he said, "Any time you're not pleased with my company, just say the word, and I'll get out. No problem."
She watched him eat, his easy movements, and felt a growing warmth in her cunt. Trying desperately not to look at his bulging crotch, her body became rubbery thinking about fucking this total stranger, taking his cock into her mouth and sucking out his creamy cum. With the greatest effort, she managed to drink a fourth cup of coffee without spilling any. The trip to Nashville began to take on a completely new angle, she thought. Her only worry was how she could keep from grabbing his cock right in the restaurant and ramming it into her juicy cunt!
Her mind reeled with visions of cocksucking and fucking as they walked out of the restaurant and got into her car.
"Are you in any hurry to get to Nashville?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Not especially," he answered. "Why?"
As they pulled into the first motel she saw, he guessed the reason why.