Hitchhiker's Read online

  Hitching

  A Ride

  By

  Terry Towers

  Hitching A Ride

  Copyright 2011 by Terry Towers

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover by: Elixa Everett

  All rights reserved. With the exception of brief quotes used for critical reviews and articles no part of this book may be used or reproduced without the written permission of the author Terry Towers. Saint John, New Brunswick, Canada. Elixa Everett can be contacted via her website at www.elixaeverett.com Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via internet or other means, electronic or print without the authors permission. Criminal copyright infringement without monetary gain is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov.ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors imagination and used fictitiously.

  Chapter 1

  ~ Thrusday ~

  Clarissa's fingertips stroked the length of the sexiest thing she had ever had the pleasure of touching - the hood of a brand new pearl white Lamborghini Gallardo - and it was all hers! All thanks to her cheating overpaid attorney ex-husband Rodger and the great state of New York.

  It goes to show that sometimes it doesn't matter how suave you are in the courtroom. If your wife has photos of you fucking your secretary, in the office after hours, you can consider yourself seriously screwed. That little slip-up cost Roger not only his younger trophy wife, but also 3.6 million dollars - give or take a few cents - in marital assets. But hey, he got himself a middle-aged, less than average looking, secretary from New Jersey in exchange. Clarissa wished him the best of luck with that. She was simply happy to finally be free of him.

  Opening the door, she slipped behind the wheel and smiled. Everything about the car screamed sex. Recently getting out of a marriage that had been completely barren of it for the past two years, sex was exactly what she needed. Sex and excitement. She'd been the obedient housewife for way too long.

  She had decided a little roadtrip with her new toy to Las Vegas was just what she needed. She had no idea how long the drive would take and didn't care really; she just knew she needed to get away from her life in New York City, at least for a little while.

  Most would argue that driving across country in a Lamborghini Gallardo wasn't the most practical of ideas that she'd ever come up with. Low fuel mileage and virtually no storage space for luggage, but she didn't care about those things. She had an overnight bag of clothes with her and money wasn't an issue.

  She imputed the coordinates in her GPS, destination the Luxor hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. She didn't bother making reservations; her father was well known at that casino so she was confident they would find her a room when she arrived. The GPS informed her that it was a non-stop forty hour drive, equalling approximately 2600 miles. That would give her enough time to enjoy her new toy and perhaps get her head clear before spending a week or two enjoying the exciting Las Vegas sites and attractions.

  Turning on the car, it roared to life. She smiled. Such a beautiful machine, and such a beautiful sound. She shifted it into gear and sped off in search of whatever pleasures life had to offer her.

  ****

  ~ Friday ~

  Clarissa's eyelids fluttered open and she stretched her naked body out on the hard double bed she had spent the night sleeping on. She had gotten as far as Youngstown, Ohio the previous evening. She had found herself a Best Western not too far off the interstate exit and decided to retire there for the night. She didn't think that was a bad start for the first leg of the trip.

  Getting out of bed, she wandered over to the window and looked out. The day was beautiful, not a cloud to be seen with the sun shining brightly, begging people to come outside and enjoy its warmth. She spotted her car immediately, not just because she knew where she parked it, but because the rest of the parking lot was filled with family vehicles such as minivans or compact cars. Her Lamborghini stuck out and she loved that it did.

  Wandering into the bathroom she turned on the shower and hopped in. She was hoping for a nice relaxing warm shower before she went to breakfast and continued on her way.

  That wasn't what she got. Instead, she had a choice between of two options; scalding hot, or freezing cold water. There was nothing relaxing about either of those options, so the long relaxing shower she was hoping for became a quick test of her resistance to both temperature extremes.

  Having finished the shower, in a record three minutes, she slipped into a pair of faded jeans and tight white tank top. The top clung to her large breasts, the neckline dipping low between them. Looking at her image in the mirror she applied some nude coloured lipstick and mascara, making her dark brown eyes appear even larger and more seductive, than they did already. No sense overdoing it when she would be sitting in car for most of the day. Satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her overnight bag, which was actually a simple backpack and exited the hotel room, leaving the room key locked inside.

  Five minutes later Clarissa was pulling into a little roadside diner named Momma and Poppa's Best, which boosted having the greatest scrambled eggs in the state. She'd be the judge of that. As she reached for the restaurants door handle the door swung open, nearly colliding into her. Clarissa stumbled backwards and out of the way, just in the nick of time.

  "Shit, sorry about that," A deep, masculine voice said.

  Clarissa lifted her eyes to look at the person who had nearly sent her falling on her ass.

  She scanned his strong, muscular thighs snugly covered with ripped, well-worn blue denim. She didn't mean to, but her gaze hesitated at his crotch, the outline of his cock strained against the fabric containing it.

  She felt a stirring in her stomach and a heat begin to simmer between her legs, imagining how long and thick it would be erect. And how good it would feel thrusting into her. Clarissa shook her head to clear her mind of the thoughts it provoked. Damn, it has been way too long since I've been given a good fucking, she mused.

  The upper half of his body was just as spectacular as the bottom. A well-worn plaid flannel shirt, with a green t-shirt underneath covered a lean, defined torso and broad shoulders. His hair was dark blonde, unruly, and falling halfway down his neck. When her eyes finished their examination she found his blue eyes bright with amusement, watching her. Apparently he had not missed her blatant full body assessment.

  Regaining her composure she nodded, "don't worry about it."

  Slinging a green army type bag over one shoulder he brushed past her. His shoulder rubbing against her breasts, causing her nipples to tightened from the sudden stimulation.

  She watched his hot, tight ass as he walked across the small parking lot and started - on foot - down the highway. Seeming to feel her eyes on him, he looked over his shoulder, caught her gaze and gave her a wink.

  Quickly Clarissa averted her gave exhaling loudly.

  Upon entering the diner she found that she wasn't the only one who had been admiring the sweet piece of ass that had just left. Two of the waitresses chattered and giggled amongst each other as they watched him walk away.

  Curious, Clarissa walked up to the two young women. "You ladies know him," she asked, nodding off in his direction.

  "No. He just wandered in, ordered, ate and left." The red headed girl offered smiling,

  "Pretty hot huh?"

  Clarissa nodded. Indeed he was
that. She guessed he was perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five, so she had close to ten years on him in age. Of course, that really didn't matter, a nice twenty something would be a refreshing change from Rodger, who was quickly closing in on fifty and in dire need of some time at the gym.

  Sex with him - when they did have it - was a sprint, rather than a marathon event. She was expected to suck his cock as foreplay, but knew better than to expect him to fall to his knees between her legs to do some pussy licking. They had been married for close to ten years, six of which the sex was horrible. Thank god for her vibrator, it was the only way she got a much-deserved orgasm.

  "So would you like a table?" The brunette waitress asked.

  Clarissa hesitated. "Yes, I would. I hear you have the best scrambled eggs in Ohio."

  The red headed waitress giggled and confirmed the claim, "we sure do."

  As the brunette took her order; a homestyle breakfast with their famous scrambled eggs, Clarissa's mind kept wandering to the drifter. He was so rugged, so raw; he seemed to radiate sex appeal. That's the kind of man she needed. No strings, no attachments, just a few days of wild, hot sex.

  But he was gone, and even if he wasn't, how would she go about approaching him?

  Would she just stop the car beside him and offer him a ride in exchange for some cock action? She chuckled to herself at the thought. Picking strangers up, regardless of how amazing they looked in a pair of tight, worn jeans was not her style.

  A half an hour later Clarissa was back behind the wheel of her new pride and joy and on route to her destination. Momma and Poppa's diner had not been exaggerating when they said they had the best scrambled eggs, they had been delicious.

  Not too far from the onramp to the interstate she noticed a figure walking in the distance, his thumb out to each passing car. As she approached the plaid flannel shirt, torn jeans and broad shoulders were unmistakable.

  Hmmm, wonder where he's heading, she mused.

  She slowed as she came to him. You can't pick up a hitchhiker, no matter how hot he may be, or how horny you are, she chided herself. Yes, it was a crazy thought. She increased her speed again and whizzed past him. Looking into the rearview mirror she watched as he stopped, hand on hip and raked a hand through his blonde hair.

  Clarissa heaved a heavy sigh, slowed the car down and pulled off to the side of the road and waited, watching him in the mirror. He seemed to realize she was waiting for him and began to jog towards the car.

  Get moving now, before it's too late! A voice in the back of her mind screamed at her.

  Shift into gear and get the fuck out of here! She ignored the voice. All she could think about now was his cock, pressed against the denim and his blue eyes when they locked gazes with hers. She wanted that man and she could use the company, it was a long drive to Las Vegas.

  It's hot outside today, he could end up with dehydration if he continues to walk in the heat, she reasoned with herself. She couldn't let that happen. How could she live with herself knowing that may happen? It was a feeble argument - she knew that, but it was the best she could come up with.

  A minute later he had reached the car's bumper. Clarissa leaned over and opened the door, it swung up and out for him. He came to the open door, bent down and peered in catching her eyes.

  The hitchhiker whistled his appreciation. "This is one hell of a ride," he commented his eyes roaming the fine leather interior of the car.

  Clarissa wasn't about to be modest. Fucking right it was a hell of a ride! It should be considering it just cost her well over two-hundred grand. "Thanks. And I know."

  He chuckled, his eyes continued to take in every inch of the interior. His eyes had a gleam to them that she would have almost described as wonderment as he looked the car over. She was almost insulted that his interest lay more in the car than her, but she cut him some slack.

  "You looking for a ride?" she asked, a coy smile touching her lips.

  His eyes finally finished their exploration of the car to focus on the driver. His gaze swept over her body, lingering on her breasts, then made their way to meet hers. "You're not afraid I'll simply rape you, steal your car and leave you for dead in a ditch somewhere." He teased, giving her a sexy, seductive smile that made her pussy ache for him.

  She shrugged, "No, not really."

  His smile widened, as he clucked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. "I'd be crazy to turn you down. Where are you heading?"

  "Las Vegas."

  His brow furrowed. "In this?"

  Clarissa laughed, "why not this?"

  "What does it get, something like ten miles to the gallon," he teased. "Wouldn't it be cheaper and faster to just fly?"

  Clarissa arched an eyebrow up at him, "you know you ask a lot of questions for someone who's looking for a ride."

  "So I've been told," he responded, sliding into the passenger seat, closing the door behind him and tossing his bag to the floor at his feet

  "And for your information, I can get up to thirteen miles per gallon." she teased shifting into gear and sending the car vaulting forward.

  The hitchhiker threw his head back and laughed before commenting, "in that case, it makes complete sense to me."

  Chapter 2

  "I'm Mitch by the way," the hitchhiker told her as they merged onto the interstate heading southwest. He made a motion to extend his hand, realized she was somewhat occupied and let it drop to his lap.

  She glanced over at Mitch and smiled, "Clarissa."

  Mitch returned her smile while surveying her stunning body, yet again. He had noticed her pull up at the diner in the Lamborghini while he was paying for his meal earlier, and was immediately in lust, with the car. He expected to see some pompous middle-aged man step out of it, but was shocked to see this stunning creature had been driving instead.

  Everything about Clarissa screamed sex, from the dark mysterious eyes, to her round, firm, breasts to the way she looked at him - taking in every inch of his body as if she wanted to jump him right then and there. Not that he would have minded. Shit, if she wanted to pull up to the first rest stop he'd be more than happy to pay for his ride, in trade and in full.

  He guessed her age to be late twenties, early thirties, which he also loved. He preferred his women in that age bracket; they generally fucked him like he was the last cock on earth, and they were always up for about anything. Anything. Yup, older women were definitely the way to go. The sexy Clarissa next to him would be a prime example of a woman wanting to experience everything he had to offer.

  His cock hardened as he watched her drive. She had full, pouty lips, that he couldn't help but think would look wonderful around his cock; licking and sucking until he came.

  He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; his jean had just gotten somewhat tighter.

  What would she say if he told her to find a semi-secluded place and pull over so he could bend her over the hood of her machine and fuck her senseless? He was tempted to suggest it, but instead asked, "So why Las Vegas? Why drive with virtually no luggage?

  Makes me think you're running away from something."

  Laughing, Clarissa looked over at him again. "So are you some type of hitchhiking psychologist? She joked.

  "Nah, I just know people." Mitch returned her smile and shrugged. He knew people very well, which is why he was so good at what he did. He made a living conning people.

  Yes, he was a vile, nasty con. Considering his perceptive nature, charm and rugged good looks - looks that women tended to swoon over - he had no problem getting what he wanted out of people, especially if said person was female.

  His mother was a single parent; his father had pissed off when he was born. She always hoped he would do something good and distinguished with his life. She knew he had the type of personality that could - as she would say it - "take him places." The problem was that he wasn't interested in some stuffy job, taking orders from someone else or having to be at a certain place at a certain time. He had the wanderlust; it seemed to have b
een bred into his DNA - most likely a generic trait passed down from dear old dad.

  So he conned instead.

  He took what he needed and wanted and moved on. He had a sizeable bank account, courtesy of his not-so-noble activities. But preferred to live modestly, squirreling all his money - earned through deceit - away. So when he looked at Clarissa he saw two things, a smoking hot woman he was going to have fun fucking for a few days and an increase in his bank account.

  "So you think you know me?" she asked raising a questioning eyebrow, but not taking her eyes from the road, which they were speeding down at speeds much higher than the posted speed limit. Speeds that made him slightly uncomfortable.

  Mitch remained silent for a minute - watching her - admiring the way she handled such a powerful machine. It was like she was born to drive. There was something about a woman who could handle a stick shift that got him hard. And the way her thumb caressed the tip of the shifter. His whole body went rigid in his seat.

  How long had it been since he'd gotten fucked? It had been a while, maybe three weeks? Some woman he couldn't remember the name of, that he had met at some country music bar. Her name was Tammy. He smiled to himself, as he remembered how he had admired how well she handled herself on the mechanical bull. She rode that bucking machine like a rodeo star and suffices to say she didn't disappoint riding him later that night either...

  "Mitch?" Clarissa's soft, silky voice broke his reverie.

  Mitch looked over at her and gave her his patented Mitch Connor smile and raked a hand through his hair. "Sorry, something just popped into my head for a minute." What had she asked him? She was wondering how he had her figured out. He could play that game, not a problem.

  "You're making a road trip, solo. That means you want some time alone, time to think.

  I'd guess you just got divorced." She started to open her mouth to interrupt, but he held his hand up stopping her. "Brand new car, expensive car, bought after a divorce means your ex-hubby was pretty well-to-do. Lawyer maybe?" She laughed and he rubbed his chin, his eyes taking in everything about her from her clothing choice to the softness of her skin. "Being that he was a lawyer, the sex sucked. Too stuffy and conventional for your tastes. And I also bet he was caught cheating with... something cliché like his secretary."