The house was in the middle of the block. It wasn’t the best neighborhood, and it never had been. The houses hadn’t been expensive even when they were new, which was probably fifty years ago. Still, that block had been kept up nice. I drove by slow and went around the corner to find a place to park.
I didn’t know anybody at the party, so I walked in with almost a full case of good beer and a friendly smile. The first guy I met was named Dave. Dave told me where the kitchen was. I met Traci and Brad at the refrigerator. Brad complimented me on my taste in beer, so I gave him one and told him to help himself. Armed with three names and Brad’s good will, I mingled.
Most of the people at the party were younger than me. There seems to be a lot of that going around these days. I wandered around the house for a few minutes, sipping my beer, looking around. Everybody seemed to be having a good time. Somebody was smoking grass, but not out where you could see it. I inserted myself into a discussion about the Seahawks until she walked by carrying her glass. I followed her butterfly tattoo to the kitchen.
She was skinny. She wore a pink T-shirt, and tight black jeans that showed off how skinny she was. Her legs were about as big around as my arms, and, at the top, they didn’t quite come together. When she stood with her legs together, you could see right through the gap. I liked that, but of course I didn’t stare too long. Her ass was only about as wide as I could have stretched my hand across, and I mean both cheeks. I’ll bet it was a full cheek narrower than my ex-wife’s ass.
She wasn’t the youngest girl there. Not even close. A couple of them had no business being at a party like that. No way they were legal. Makes you wonder where their parents were. She wasn’t that young. Still, she looked pretty damned young. She looked pretty damned good, too, and it was early, and I was sober.
Her hair was straight and dark, almost black. It was kind of medium length and kind of went in all directions. You see hair like that in pictures, but not usually on real women. Usually when a woman’s hair does that it pisses her off and she has to mess with it. She was drinking Diet Squirt. On the rocks. She had tiny little tits, with nipples.
Brad was still there in the kitchen, just a few feet from her. I went up to him and said, “Enjoy the beer. I gotta get going. Gotta drive down to Reno. If you see Dave, tell him I had to leave.”
Brad didn’t give a shit. He’d talked to me once for thirty seconds. He was a pretty nice guy, though. He said, “Yeah, Man, I’ll tell him. Have a safe drive.”
“Thanks, Man.” I drained my beer and acted like I was looking around for someplace to put the empty.
“You’re driving to Reno?” she asked. “Tonight?”
It was that easy. I swear, that was all there was to it. She asked if I wanted company, and I said sure, like any guy would. Twenty minutes later we were in my Monte Carlo and I was looking for the freeway entrance.
We headed west on I-90. She asked about that, and I told her it was faster that way. We’d go west and then go down 395. That must have made sense to her.
Out on the road, she was the one who brought it up. This was almost too easy. She started by saying, “I need to get to Las Vegas.”
I said, “Well, I can take you as far as Reno. That’s a lot closer than you are now.”
“I thought maybe you could take me all the way to Las Vegas.”
“Well, I wasn’t planning to go to Vegas.”
“I could make it worth it to you.” Her voice was changing. She sounded older, and like she smoked cigarettes.
“I ain’t hurting for gas money.”
“I’m not talking about money.”
“You know what that sounds like,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. And you know what I’m talking about.”
“It’d take a couple days to get down there.”
“Then you could be having a pretty good time for the next couple of days. We both could.”
She just put it out there, just like that. No bullshit. You have to like that. I pretended to be pretending to think about it, then I pretended to cave. “I haven’t been to Las Vegas for a while. Guess I have been thinking about going back sometime.”
She seemed satisfied with that.
She didn’t seem to mind my music, and we had a nice peaceful drive for a while. There weren’t many cars on the freeway once we got away from the city. I didn’t go real fast, just cruised along a little over the limit with my high beams on. The moon was so bright it lit up the reflectors on the side of the road, far ahead of my lights.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I told her when the disc was over.
“What was that?”
“You know what. I’m gettin’ horny thinking about it.”
“And you’re probably wondering if I’m going to keep up my end of the bargain.”
“Well, no, but, you got me thinking about it. And you do look hot.”
“So, what, you want to do it in the car?”
“I got my bags in the back seat. They’d be in the way. I could blow you while you drive, but that wouldn’t be safe, or that much fun for me. I’ve been thinking about it, too. Let’s do it outside. Is there someplace to pull off?”
I knew there were some of those local-access roads along the freeway in through there. It seems like there’s one every mile or two when you don’t need one. It took a hell of a long time to get to the next one.
I braked hard when I saw the turn. It was dark out there in the middle of noplace, even with that bright moon, and I didn’t know how sharp the turn was. A paved ramp led down to a gravel road, and there was a place to pull off right next to the overpass. It seemed like the cars on the freeway could see us down there, but I was sure they couldn’t. I figured there wouldn’t be anybody around that time of night unless it was maybe some farm kids out drinking beer, and the hell with them.
“You’re going to take me all the way to Vegas, right?”
“All the way. Looking forward to it.”
She opened her door and I opened mine. She came around to my side.
The first thing I did was try to kiss her. She avoided it without making a big deal out of it. Like maybe she’d done that before. I still put my arms around her and grabbed her ass. I only had to feel around for a second to find it.
She reached for my belt, and I helped her. She looked down at my cock and played with it for a minute before she sank to her knees. She just sank. She was graceful, like a dancer or something. There was no wimpy licking, either. She sucked me right into her mouth.
She was pretty good at sucking cock. I didn’t notice how cold the night air was until she let my cock out of her warm, wet mouth. It was actually a chilly night. She looked up at me, right past my stiff dick, with her dark eyes wide open in the moonlight, and said, “You feel like eating some pussy?”
I don’t remember exactly what I said, but it was pretty clever, maybe even endearing. I was all for the idea of eating her out. She responded by standing up and leaning against the car. I dropped to one knee, probably almost as gracefully as she had done, and helped her with her shoes. When she pulled her jeans down I got my first glimpse, and first whiff, of her cute, little, hairy pussy. She kicked her jeans all the way off and hopped her ass up on the hood of my car. She scooted back and stretched out with one knee up. Her jacket was open, and her nipples stood up so tall they cast shadows on her T-shirt.
I admired the view for just a minute, then I started to lick. I licked the little creases between her pussy and her thighs, then I licked her lips while she wiggled and moaned. She tasted great, but somehow I knew she would. I stuck my tongue in her pussy and moved it around for a minute before I moved up toward her clit, and things got even better. There it was, right where it was supposed to be. Her clit felt like a little rock. I would have known I found it, anyway, because as soon as the tip of my tongue touched her clit she went ape-shit crazy, bucking and cussing and saying those intelligent things like, “Oh, yeah.” She grabbed my head and held it close to her, which was completely unnecessary, but I didn’t complain.
When she pushed my head away, I stood up between her legs and pulled her to me, and it got even better again. Christ, she was tight. I just got the head in the first try, then a little more each time I pushed. My cock probably isn’t a whole lot bigger than average, but I couldn’t believe how tight her pussy was. She wasn’t tight just in one place, either, like how when you first fuck a girl in the ass and it’s tight at the rim. This was like trying to squeeze your fingers into scuba gloves that are way too small. It was like she was taking my blood pressure. It was incredible, so, of course, I had to try something else. I pulled out and told her to turn over. She flipped over like a little gymnast and I shoved it back in.
She might have been a little tighter from that angle. I don’t know if I ever had a pussy that tight before. If I did, it was back in high school, before I knew enough to truly appreciate it. I held her hips in both hands and watched my cock slide in and out of her. My cock looked huge, partly because her ass was so small. Her skin was as smooth and white as skin could be, and her butterfly must have been done with some kind of ink that glowed in moonlight. I could have watched that all night, except, of course, I couldn’t.
“I’m not gonna last much longer,” I told her.
“Don’t come in me. You can come in my mouth if you want.” She humped back against me four or five times while she was saying it.
I pulled out and she dropped back down on her knees with a quickness that gravity alone could not explain. My cock was in her mouth almost before the cold air got to it.
It turned out that she wasn’t really sucking my cock before. That was just foreplay. This was some seriously inspired cocksucking. It was like she was going for some kind of a personal best. I looked down. God, she was beautiful with her cheeks sucked in like that. Her hand was moving fast between her legs. My cock came out of her mouth once with a loud ‘plop,’ and she was back on it like a dog after a treat. I thought about pulling it out again, just to fuck with her, but it was too late.
I came, and she kept sucking. She was perfect. She turned her head and spit. I didn’t give a shit. She sucked some more, slower, but still sucking, in no hurry to quit. When I told her to get back up on the car and I’d lick her some more, she slid right up along me and leaned back against the fender. I lifted her up on the car. She weighed about nothing. She spread her legs wide. Her clit was so big by now that I could lick just one side, or the other, or lap at the whole thing. They all seemed to work.
She soon had had enough of that. I could tell because she kept trying to cross her legs. When I backed away, though, her hand went back down to her pussy. It looked like she was trying to rub out a cramp. I noticed that I still had my pants on, down around my ankles. That’s not like me. I always take them off. I couldn’t remember the last time I fucked with my pants down.
I pulled my pants up and opened up the door and reached inside to the cooler for a beer. She quit playing with herself and slid down off the hood. I opened the bottle using the knife I wear on my belt, and I drank about half of it. While she was picking up her clothes I reached into the pocket on the door and pulled out a big gelatin capsule, something that looks like you’d give it to a horse. I held the capsule, the beer, and the knife in one hand at my side, and crushed the capsule against the knife so it drained into the bottle. I had actually practiced that a few times once, but had never used it before. It works pretty well, if it’s dark, and you’re behind a car door, and her eyes are kind of glazed over.
“Want a drink?” I held out the beer to her. She hesitated, standing there cute as could be on one foot in the moonlight, with one shoe on, with her wonderful, beautiful, skinny little ass against the fender of my car. “I’ll open one for you.”
“No, I don’t drink much.”
“Want the rest of this one? I’ll get myself one.”
She took it. I thought she would. She knew it had to be safe. She just saw me drink from it. You don’t give somebody a date-rape drug after you already fucked her, anyway. Besides, I thought she might want to wash her mouth out. I’ve been told before that I don’t taste very good. I feel bad about that sometimes, but what can I do? It’s not like I’m going to change my diet or anything.
“That was abso-fucking-lutely amazing,” I told her sincerely. “You’re incredible.” I caught myself before I told her she was perfect.
“Thanks. You, too.” I thought she sounded fairly sincere.
“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way,” I told her. “And I don’t want to scare you. But, I think I could fall in love with you. Don’t worry, though. I won’t be a dork about it.”
“Okay. I won’t worry.” She handed me back the beer, but I showed her that I had another one. She took another drink, then a little sip, and hers was empty. She tossed the bottle and we got back in the car.
I didn’t turn when we got to 395. By then she was snoring in the seat next to me. I waited a while longer, then reached in the dark near her feet and found her purse. You can’t be too careful. Her driver’s license was there. It was her picture. She had money and credit cards. No weapons.
I kept heading west on the freeway. In my rearview mirror I could see that the sky was getting light. Around Ellensburg, I pulled out my phone.
“It’s Thompson,” I said. “I got her.”
“Where are you?”
“On I-90, a couple hours out.”
“Is she all right?”
“I think so. She was in Spokane. A guy I know helped me find her. She was headed for Las Vegas, like you thought. She was with some other people when I found her, and she was pretty fucked up. I don’t know if she’s on something or if somebody slipped her something. She’s been pretty much out of it since I got her in the car.”
“On something? She doesn’t even drink.”
“Well, she doesn’t act drunk. Maybe somebody slipped her something, but she was still functioning, more or less, when I got her out of there. She’s breathing okay and everything, just sleeping it off.”
“Bring her here as soon as you can. I’ll be here.”
“Okay. As long as she doesn’t wake up and give me any trouble, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Oh, her car must be in Spokane. We can talk about it when I see you.”
He never said who she was to him, or why he wanted her back. If she was a wife or a daughter, he would have said. When he didn’t say, and obviously didn’t want to say, I just quoted him my ‘might be a little illegal’ rate and didn’t ask. I had my own ideas, now, about why someone would want her back.
She could have got away if she’d really tried. She made it three hundred miles in five days. My grandmother could have done that on her lawnmower, if I had a grandmother and she had a lawnmower. She had money and a car. She didn’t go to the cops, so he must not be doing anything illegal to her, and she didn’t get on a bus or a plane. She didn’t even try. She probably would have gone back on her own.
I think I’ll ask somebody to check up on her one of these days, see if she’s all right. Maybe she really wants to get away by now. Maybe she needs a ride someplace.
Copyright © 2006 by Conrad Stetson. All rights reserved.
I’m a regular guy from a very small town in eastern Washington. Never had anything published. Never posted a story anywhere. This is the first writing contest I have ever entered. Happened upon the Desdmona website, saw the name of this contest, and had to read more. What a great idea for a story contest. I have read lots of hard-boiled detective stories over the years, and I’ve read at least my share of erotica. The combination sounded like it would be too much fun to pass up.
Writing this story was even more fun than I thought it would be. Cracked myself up a couple times. I am looking forward to the next contest and am wondering what the subject will be.