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Big Tits

Racing through the inky blackness of the Arizona desert at around 1:00 a.m., there was no question in Andrew’s mind that the weekend had been a mistake.

To be fair, many weekend trips to Las Vegas could be categorized as “mistakes”. But this hadn’t been the kind of mistake to fondly reminisce over, years later. Not the kind of mistake that made for a humorous anecdote to tell at a party. No, the weekend had been a mistake simply because nothing exciting had happened at all.

The whole thing had been Mark’s idea. An old friend from college, Mark had always had grand ideas that never seemed to play out. Implausible schemes for getting laid. Half-baked plans to get rich quick. “Epic” road trips to destinations that had long gone out of business. Things like that.

His latest plan had involved trying to pick up strippers. Strippers! Andrew was no master pickup artist himself but even he knew that this was a stupid plan. But, having not seen his friend in a few years, he had agreed to join him, out of a sense of obligation more than anything else.

Needless to say, their evening had cost them hundreds of dollars each and had left them painfully unsatisfied.

A more pressing reason for regretting the trip was the timing. Andrew had to work the coming Monday and lived about 6 hours away in the podunk town of Gallup, New Mexico. Mark lived in Vegas and had had no problem with keeping Andrew for a late dinner on Sunday night. As it stood, he should be getting home around 2:00 a.m., leaving him barely 4 hours of sleep before he had to get up for work the coming morning.

Andrew wasn’t sure he could make it much further. He had run on little sleep the whole weekend and the lonely desert highway was lulling him to sleep. During the day, the red mesas of eastern Arizona and western New Mexico were spectacular sights. But at night the darkness, unbroken by the lights of town or even other motorists, was total. It gave a sense of grave isolation. The world seemed like it ended just beyond the illumination of the car’s headlights.

He found himself thinking back on the strip club and the strippers. Again, although nothing had come of it, he did remember one in particular by the name of “Cheryl”. If her tits were implants then the surgeon deserved an award because they had been the most bouncy, natural-looking large breasts that he had ever seen (in person, at least).

He fantasized about squeezing them, the way she had squeezed them herself on stage. He imagined their soft warmth, smoothness interrupted only by the rough edges of pert nipples. In his mind, he felt their weight in his hands as he plunged his head between them, breathing in the heady aroma of sweat and perfume.

The honking of a car horn snapped him out of his reverie and he swerved his car to the right to avoid colliding with an oncoming pickup truck.

His heart was racing and he focused on the darkness before him. No more oncoming cars. Still, it had been close–the truck had seemingly come out of nowhere. He needed something else to keep himself awake. He glanced down at the car’s clock. 1:15. Still almost an hour of driving! He contemplated pulling the car over on the side of the road to catch a few hours of sleep. But the idea of doing this made him uneasy. Semi trucks were known to drift in their lanes on this highway. It would only take one of them edging over to the shoulder just a bit at just the right time… He didn’t want to think about it. More importantly, he wasn’t sure if he could even fall asleep with worries like that in his head.

He wracked his brain trying to think of any stops between his current location and Gallup. There was one right outside of the town but nothing of note before that. Or was there? He thought he remembered passing a lone gas station on his way out of town. He hadn’t passed it yet so it might be coming up soon.

Miraculously, after a slight turn in the road, a light appeared in the distance. That must be the gas station! Gripping the wheel, he sped onward, trying to decide whether sleep or coffee sounded better.

He slowed as he approached the station. Something seemed wrong. As he pulled up to the storefront, it became obvious to him: although the tall streetlights around the parking lot were on, the station itself was closed. With hot coffee no longer an option, he decided to settle down for a nap. He was shifting in his seat, trying to get comfortable before shutting off the car when he was startled by a knocking at the passenger-side window.

Andrew Escort bayan jolted back in his seat, elbowing the horn lightly. With the bejesus thoroughly scared out of him, he turned to his right to see who was, in his mind, about to murder him.

His fears subsided quickly. Peering into his car from a few feet away was a scrawny-looking woman with pale skin and ruffled-looking black hair. She was wearing a black t-shirt and tight jeans and, overall, looked quite disheveled. Not homeless-desert-woman disheveled. More like, haven’t-slept-in-days disheveled. Which, honestly, was probably the same look that he was rocking at the moment.

As he was processing this, she started to make a cranking motion with her arm. It took his sleep-deprived brain a moment to recognize the gesture, but when he did, he turned down the passenger side window.

“I know they don’t make cars with crank windows anymore,” she explained, leaning on the door, her head now mostly inside the car. Her voice had an unexpected energetic snappiness to it. “But I figured this,” she paused and stood back, making a button-pressing motion, “wouldn’t quite cut it.”

Andrew was at a loss for words.

“Sorry I startled you,” she leaned back into the car. She smelled like cigarette smoke and the desert air. “Are you headed to Albuquerque?”

“Sorry, no,” he finally managed to get out. “Gallup, actually.”

“Oh, perfect!,” she perked up cheerfully. “Me too! I said Albuquerque because, come on, who lives in Gallup? Besides the two of us, of course. And Albuquerque’s past Gallup, so anyone going to Albuquerque would have to pass through Gallup.”

Normally, Andrew would never consider picking up a hitchhiker but it would seem that he had no choice. What was he going to do, fall asleep in the parking lot with her sitting outside? Plus, her energy was a little infectious–this might be what he needed to make it the rest of the way.

But there was still the element of danger. Just because she was a woman didn’t mean that she couldn’t shoot him, steal his car and leave him to the coyotes and vultures in the middle of the desert.

As if sensing his reluctance, she took a step back from the car.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to murder you or anything.” She turned around slowly, patting herself down. Although her clothes were pretty tight-fitting, her overall figure was a far cry from that of Cheryl. “See? No guns, knives or explosives.”

With what remained of his fears assuaged, Andrew unlocked the door and motioned for her enter. She excitedly climbed in and buckled up. Andrew put the car in reverse and maneuvered to re-enter the highway. Conversation would have to keep him awake.

“So, I don’t mean to pry,” he began cautiously, “but what brings you to an abandoned gas station so late at night?”

“My bitch of a friend, Tina,” she replied flatly. “She was probably mad at me for something stupid, like fucking her boyfriend. Which I didn’t even do–she’s just paranoid about cheating because she has the worst taste in men.”

Andrew really didn’t know how to respond to that. Thankfully, she continued.

“Anyway, I was riding home with her from Vegas and we stopped here so I could take a leak behind the gas station and the whore drove off without me! All my shit was still in her car so I have no phone, no wallet. Nothing!”

“That’s a bummer,” Andrew commented. She may not be a murderer but what kind of person has friends like that?

“But let me just say, I really appreciate you picking me up,” she trailed off shyly as she finished her sentence.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he said weakly. He really wasn’t in this for the thanks or the glory. “We should only be about 30 minutes away from Gallup anyway.”

“I would chip in for gas but, like I said, my wallet is with my friend.” Again, her response was more than a little coy.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he insisted, confused at what she was getting at.

“It’s okay. I know a better way to pay you back.”

At this, Andrew felt a hand on his right thigh. He looked down and saw his passenger caressing his pant leg. At a loss for words, he let her hands continue roaming higher, closer and closer to his crotch. After a weekend of being blue-balled by strippers, he became fully erect almost immediately, his bulge pressing tightly against the denim of his pants.

She laid a hand on his crotch, lightly at first but soon her grip tightened as she began to rub his shaft through his pants.

Andrew Bayan Escort ventured a hand down to undo his belt and pant buttons but was met with a quick rebuttal.

“Ten and two, dude,” she chastised playfully.

He gripped the wheel as instructed and waited for her to continue.

While still rubbing his penis, her other hand worked its way to his stomach, lightly scratching at his body hair. This hand eventually made it to his belt buckle where it struggled to work the mechanism.

Suddenly, both hands withdrew.

Afraid that his chance had somehow been blown, Andrew hazarded a look at his passenger. Expecting her to be breaking down and changing her mind, he instead found her adjusting her seat and cracking her knuckles.

“Your console thing is just kind of in the way,” she explained matter-of-factly. “I can get at ya, but I’m not ambidextrous enough to do the cool stuff.”

Cool stuff? Not for the first time, Andrew cursed his Nissan Altima.

She caught him eyeing her and playfully reprimanded him a second time. “Eyes on the road!”

Both hands on the wheel, eyes forward, Andrew waited patiently for her to resume her work.

He felt the press of her body against his as she leaned over the control console to undo his pants using both hands. Raising himself from his seat, they awkwardly managed to get his pants and boxers down around his knees.

“Now we can get started,” she whispered.

He felt a hand grip his shaft firmly and begin to slowly work its way up and down. Fearful of taking his eyes off the road, he tried to get a look at the woman through his peripheral vision. In the darkness he couldn’t see much. He tried to recall what she had looked like just minutes ago, standing in the harsh light of the gas station streetlamps. He pictured her ass, which he had gotten a glimpse of as she had turned around, showing him her lack of weaponry. It had been decidedly small but held together tightly in her long jean pants. He tried to picture what her legs must look like under the pants: long, thin, and pale like the rest of her. He wondered if she wore nail polish on her feet. If she did, it was probably black and likely chipped and worn. He worked his imagination back up and saw black thong underwear around her now bare ass.

The pace of her stroking had not slackened and he heard himself involuntarily moan lightly as his body grew closer to climax.

Suddenly, her pumping stopped. This time, her hand did not withdraw completely but nestled itself between his right thigh and his balls, rubbing lightly against his groin.

“Say, I’ve got an idea,” she chimed pertly.

Again, Andrew was nervous that he had somehow ruined the situation.


“We’re about to hit New Mexico, right?” A road sign just ahead said as much.


“Well, Gallup is exit 16. So, since you’re barely going the speed limit, that should be about 15 minutes away. Let’s see if we can make it to the exit! Finish right as we pull into town.”

Right now, 15 minutes sounded like an eternity to Andrew. And he was going the speed limit because now would be the worst time to get pulled over for speeding. He reluctantly agreed.

“Alright, here we go!”

At that, her hand moved from his thigh to his taint, kneading the base of his shaft below his balls. He shifted in his seat, spreading his legs wider to accommodate her reach.

Mile marker 1 flew past. Fifteen more to go.

Her hand worked its way upward and began to fondle his balls. In his experience, a lot of women were delicate, almost cautious, around the balls. Sure, it would suck to get kicked down there but it’s not like they’re made of glass. In contrast, the woman now massaging them knew how to apply just the right amount of pressure.

Another few miles passed by and she moved her hand back to his shaft. Rather than pumping tightly as before, she rubbed his penis against his stomach. Although it felt amazing as the coarse hair on his stomach brushed against the head of his penis, he was glad that she wasn’t going all out.

Mile marker 8.

Her hand slowly withdrew and he felt a single finger delicately touch the tip of his penis, swirling around the head.

“Lots of pre-cum,” she commented happily. “I hope you can make it!”

Her moistened finger continued its circular motion around the head of his penis, working its way down to the glans. Another involuntary moan elicited a comment from his passenger.

“We’re Escort not gonna make it, at this rate,” she said dejectedly. Her hand withdrew completely. “Break time! It might be cheating but what the hell. You can stay hard for another few miles, right?”

“S-sure.” He had felt like was going to explode at any moment but, with her pause in contact, he felt himself coming back away from the edge.

“I’ll leave you to your dirty, dirty thoughts until, say, mile 14. Or, maybe, 14.5.”

Dirty thoughts indeed. He relaxed and focused on the road. But he couldn’t completely forget his situation and soon picked up where he had left off, mentally undressing his companion based on his brief seconds of seeing her in the light. He pictured her flat stomach and tiny belly button. Would she have piercings? He decided that she would and gave her a simple barbell at her navel. Her breasts were small but perky. Smooth mounds. Less than a handful but still soft and warm. Her face. Now that was the hardest part. This was less imagination and more memory. Her lips weren’t especially full but were also not lined with any lipstick. Her eyes… Brown? He risked a look to the side and found himself face to face with his passenger.

She smiled at him and held his gaze for a long moment before he broke it to keep an eye on the road. Hazel.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,” she chided sweetly. “Hey,” she pointed ahead, “mile marker 14.3. That should be good enough.”

With her right arm she forced him to lean back in his seat. Wasting no time, she swirled her palm around the head of his penis, gathering up pre-cum. She then gripped at his shaft and began pumping up and down. With the lubrication from the pre-cum, she added a twist to her stroking motion.

In almost no time, Andrew felt his body approaching climax. Almost as if on cue, he felt his partner lean against him across the car’s console. He felt a second hand cup the head of his penis as the first started making deep, powerful thrusts. The warmth of her breath tickled his ear as she whispered to him.

“Cum for me.”

Andrew felt his body buckle as he came to climax and released his load. She continued her pumping for a moment but gradually began to slow and eventually stopped, her right hand still firmly gripping his penis.

Andrew looked down, expecting to see his shirt covered with cum, but instead saw that she had positioned her left hand to catch it as it came out. She now pulled away both hands and, with a quick sidelong glance, Andrew saw her bring the palm of her left hand to her mouth and lick the cum off. It took several laps but she eventually deemed it cleaned and wiped the residual saliva on her jeans.

She then reached over and, with forefinger and thumb, gripped the base of his still erect penis and squeezed up–like pushing toothpaste out of a tube. This earned her a final glob of cum, which she flicked from the tip with her forefinger and brought to her mouth.

“Good to the last drop!” she exclaimed. “My name is Katie, by the way.”

It just occurred to Andrew that they have never actually exchanged names. It was a hell of a way to get introduced, he had to admit.

“Andrew,” he returned, still a little in shock.

“Well, Andrew, I think we did it. Look: Exit 16, half a mile ahead. Close enough, right? Here, let’s get your pants back up before we pull in.”

He raised his body up off the seat and the two made an awkward attempt of getting his pants back in place. By the time he was buckled up, they were approaching the lights of town.

“You can just let me off at gas station up ahead. I can make it from there.”

“Sure,” Andrew replied numbly. Now with his mind off of sex, he began to think about what was supposed to happen next. He had never had a hookup situation like this before. Was he supposed to give her his number? Would she even want it, if he offered?

They pulled up to the gas station and Kate undid her seat belt and reached for the door. But she paused before opening it and turned back around.

“Hey, you’re not tired, are you?”

Amazingly enough, he was not. Not after that.

“Not really.”

“Well, you remember my friend Tina? The one who ditched me at the gas station?”

“Yea?” He really wasn’t sure where this was heading.

“Well, I’ve got an idea for how to pay her back for that and I could use some help,” she explained.

“What, exactly, did you have in mind?”

A wide grin spread across her face.


Author’s Note: Thanks to Strangebuddy for starting a thread about hitchhikers. I really only skimmed the first few posts but the initial premise was enough to give me this idea. Big thanks to sharingfantasies for a great job in editing.

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