Opportunism, Cheating, Young and Old,
You have just stopped for fuel, food, a toilet break, and the obligatory stretch—five hundred kilometres covered of your journey, but still, four hundred to go.
You are crawling through the reduced speed zone to where the main road re-joins the vast Northern highway. You see the signpost to the gorge on your right and remember more relaxed travelling times without a fixed business agenda. You went bushwalking through the gorge with your Anna before you were married, and years later, you brought the kids up to the gorge for camping.
Yeah, it was a few years ago already.
However, the immediate reality was by the side of the road, and you take a lot in with your eyes very quickly and process scenarios in rapid nanoseconds.
There was a single youthful female hitchhiker. It appeared because you never knew where their boyfriend lurked out of sight.
Being male, now closer to fifty than forty, you process the curves in the right places under white shorts and a plain yellow T-shirt. Her light hair was back in a ponytail. Cute enough to distract you.
You've been recycling the limited CDs in the car because there is no radio reception. Some company will pass the boring straight road, semi desert highway to come.
You are wary, though.
You know all the hitchhiker's tricks, Anna, and you perfected them years ago.
Anna, alone and with a sexy tied-off top, on the edge of the bitumen. You and the backpacks three metres back in the scrub. The single-aged male driver stops. They get two passengers. You are in the front, and Anna is safe in the back with your gear.
What the hell are you thinking as you stop up the road ahead of the lass wearing the yellow top and reverse back?
You see her jogging up the road alone with a backpack. Her ponytail bouncing but not her smallish tits. You glance again for the expected male travelling companion to dash out of the scrub.
You are surprised there is not one.
She opens the back door of your sedan and throws in her backpack.
Oh crap, you think. So wary.
If she takes the safe back seat option, this will be a challenging journey.
Then relief. She's in the front passenger seat and buckling in next to you.
For a minute, you concentrate on returning to the road and checking the highway.
She is reticent.
Oh well, you start the introductions.
Taleisha, you repeat the name in your head, and Taleisha was okay with the basics of small talk about the National Park Gorge till you asked, "Why are you solo hitching?"
She goes quiet emotional and is wrenching and clenching her hands as it all unfolds: she's got a lot to get off her chest but not her clothes, as she narrates salacious details.
"Rick, my boyfriend Rick, had been chatting up these two Italian chicks last night at the bar. I'd only been to the loo for less than five minutes," she had started her story, a bit mixed up.
A sniffle from Taleisha before she continued: "Rick the prick, then got into shooting eight ball with them after I failed to coax him away and to bed. I was jealous, but I was there, and even though I was Rick's partner in the game and his girlfriend", a real emphasis on that word from the ponytailed hitchhiker.
She continued, "he was getting right into their space, not mine. I could see they were sexually open, giving all the glances, all the poses, all the rude gestures with the cue sticks and fondling the hit balls in the pockets. I mean, I'm good in bed, but I don't do public, raunchy sexual preening. "
Yes, Taleisha said that: just blurting out the story uncensored, but hey, I was enjoying it, even if she had to stop and wipe her teary eyes.
Good in bed, nearly had me not focussing on her retelling or the road.
Yes, I snuck a peek at her chest, and yeah, there was plenty to work with there; not prominent tits, but she had the nipple bulge that even a quality bra and definitely not a thin cotton t-shirt could hide.
"And when Speranza leaned right over the table, spreading her legs and raising one to the lip of the table, well, I wasn't watching her shot; I was watching Rick's goggle— staring at her arse and the wide gap between her legs. He even repositioned himself, the bastard, for a better view."
Taleisha was choking back a few tears, and I suggested she help herself to a mint from the glove box.
Then through her sucking, fast-chewing action, she just kept going on with her story like it was therapy or confession; she had the compelling need to tell someone.
"Of course, the fake blonde tart with big melons missed her shot deliberately. She wanted Rick to take it leaning over the table, equally deliberately to perv on my boyfriend's cute tight butt."
I was mentally distracted; it was interesting hearing a girl describe another girl's breasts and a guy's rear end.
"Well, I nearly bitch slapped her when she patted Rick on his behind to ruin his shot. It was only the fact he was between me and the whore that stopped me, and of course, Rick wrecked her shot by patting her butt; the low-born sod."
Stifling back tears, Taleisha then related," Calinda, the seemingly quieter of the Italian pair, tried to lesbian hit on me, patting my butt. When I stepped back, Calinda suggested we have a foursome."
I gripped the steering wheel with unnecessary pressure.
"Well, the game ended with the Italian girls winning because they just kept flaunting themselves unashamedly, especially their busty wobbly tits and opulent cleavage."
She continued: "I got Rick to bed with me and went direct to his cock for sex. You know," she said, "to control and get back my man but the arsehole said he had had too much to drink and needed to sleep; the frickin liar."
She helped herself to another mint.
"The next morning, things seemed settled as we had breakfast in the hostel's shared kitchen and dining area with the Italian chicks nowhere in sight. I went to do some basic shopping for lunch for a later bushwalk. However, I forgot my credit card; it was in my jeans from last night, and I went back for it."
Taleisha paused and sighed.
"I'd only been gone about fifteen minutes instead of maybe an hour round trip. I put the key in the door of our hostel room and got a real-life porno scene directly in my eyes and filling up my ears. Speranza the slut was bouncing up and down off Rick's cock with her feet pressing up from his thighs, and the bitch wasn't even a true blonde, dark scraggly pubbed thing," she added pretty derisively.
"I only got to hear Rick's muffled enjoyment because Calinda had her pussy dangling over his mouth, and the bastard was flicking his tongue over her showy cunt, while that slattern Speranza between high-pitched moans of sexual delight, looked me straight in the eyes and invited me to join them and her invitation was echoed by Calinda too; the bisexual bitch."
She took a deep breath and went on:
"Rick, the sod didn't stop pumping into the Italian blonde but also suggested I join in. I grabbed my bag in disgust and headed out the door, and the thing that got to me was they didn't frickin stop; they kept going like it was a webcam show. They were that biologically-heated. They were under the sway of unstoppable pleasurable, but their lack of frickin scruples for me as the girlfriend, well, I hope the bitches give him the clap. They were so full of themselves. They didn't care about me once I didn't join in."
And the rest of her story was just getting the fuck out of the small town quickly. The bus north wasn't due till late evening, so it was hitch and hope, and she finally said," Thanks for stopping and giving me a lift. There was, after all, hardly any through traffic."
And then Taleisha was quietly sobbing.
Narrating it all had been too much.
The only thing I now actually thought about apart from my near boner from her graphic retelling was; Fuck my wedding ring.
This young chick had a great, sexy personality but was very vulnerable. Jeez, having lost a cheating boyfriend, I thought she was either off men or looking for a quick rebound payback fuck to get the fiend out of her system.
I was the devil for thinking of the latter option.
She was easily susceptible; I realised if emotional support or touch was initiated.
Then I hesitated; I wouldn't want some middle-aged prick taking advantage of my daughter under similar circumstances.
So I did the right thing and got her talking about other places she had travelled to, and we shared lighter and funnier memories of less intense journeys, though I focused on my trips before I met Anna, and Taleisha didn't mention Rick.
Ninety minutes of driving had passed, and the only reasonable rest stop was on my left: one stinking drop pit unisex toilet, two rough wooden tables and chunky seats and an enormous character-shaped, shady boab tree.
Seeing the tree brought back memories, the wrong sort for a married guy thinking still of opportunistic sex with a young female hitchhiker.
Anna and my initials and hundreds of others were carved in the base of this boab. Years ago, my kids sat on the broad lower limb for a photo.
I told Taleisha, " Yeah, this drop pit is the only — but still unacceptable toilet and roadside rest stop till we reach The Crossing."
I indicated I always took a slash in the bush rather than used the pit, the flies, and the smell, but it was up to her where she chose to go if and where she needed to.
She said, " I know this stop," but didn't add any more.
I did the leisurely male waterworks relief in the scrub and returned to my car. I couldn't see Taleisha.
Then I realised it was the colossal boab, she must be walking around it.
I circled the massive tree, too.
There she was, looking intently at scratched initials and the obligatory year of the carving.
I had a total guilt spasm as I mistakenly thought she was looking directly at Anna's and my initials from years ago.
Then, upon seeing me, Taleisha got quite emotional as she indicated her rough effort and that of her elder sister from several years ago.
Well, you never know what connects any two people sometimes.
"I just wish I could erase Rick," she said wistfully. "As easy as scratching out a name."
I wish I were fucking you right here, was all I thought.
I was beside her, looking at her initials, mine and Anna's, above, and dozens of unknown others who had stopped here over the years to record their journey north or south.
We both got into each other's space as we turned inwards, not outwards, to return to the car, and clumsy accidental touching and uncoordinated awkwardness joined us.
All more embarrassing as my wedding ring caught her knuckles.
However, bumbling hands and half-started effusive apologies were lost in lust-locking eyes.
She saw what I wanted.
I saw what she had to do: Get frickin Rick the prick out of her mind and life; just fuck the bastard out of herself.
I had that pleasurable sensation when someone else unzips your pants and releases your pecker and balls and fondles playfully with them, twining their fingers in exciting ways you don't anticipate.
I was already randy, and Taleisha was just intent on cock and was on her knees sucking me off as my back went up against the boab tree.
She went the generous full suck. Then the sweeping knob lick. Full cock concentration. Her hand gripping my hot throbbing shaft. My head was back. I was so goddamn cock happy. I took in her moist, puckered lips, sucking me off. I then watched her suck my dick. I was transfixed in the intensity of my own cock's growing pleasure.
Somehow, I urged her up. I needed more and wanted everything at once. I wanted to feel her up, make sure she was moist, to fuck the life out of her.
It also actually crossed my selfish mind to fuck the life back into her.
Rick was a stupid prick. Taleisha was hot.
Her shorts were too easy to negotiate. The stud button popped, and her pants slid down in a quick, uneven motion along with her flesh-coloured panties. Thankfully the pony-tailed lass was still tugging on my aching, needy cock. I got my full palm pressing on her smooth pubic mound, with two fingers indecently in her slit. I was doing the raunchy fingering up. Pushing into her crevice. Spreading my fingers around. I was genuinely enjoying her pussy's rapid squelchy response.
Taleisha was now pushed against the boab moaning; moaning like I had imagined the Italian slut had as Rick buried his upward spearing cock deep into her downward momentum.
My hitchhiker had a goddamn sopping flexi hole, and my happy but bad, bad fingers were getting her moaning like a tramp.
Boy, was she noisy.
I dropped my pants and boxers, ready to give her everything.
My fingers could have easily induced a rapid orgasm for the now wild young woman, but she craved cock, and needed a prick to erase Rick fast.
She turned herself around and bent over, holding the tree with out-stretched palms, her legs spread even wider, only her yellow top covering her back, her white butt cheeks dividing her body in two, but her shaved pussy lips inviting a cock between her butt cleavage.
Fuck I was in her.
Fuck she was sweet.
Fuck she was a treat.
Fuck…Fuck…Fuck.
Well, I fucked her as she needed to be fucked. Smuttily, like a trailer trash skank. It got filthy as I rimmed her butt hole with my finger and stabbed into her tight pink crack with my digit up to my wedding ring.
She was wanton in her moaning. Her pussy was slushy wet but still heavenly tight. I could see my cock sliding in and out of her grasping enveloping coochie.
She bent further down, so I could hold her hips and bang my body into her butt. She wanted cock deep. She got it to the depths. She was panting in total fulfilment. It was defining in the moment: my cock and her pussy encapsulating pleasure for two.
We were both nearly past the point of any control. Nothing could stop my desire to fire my load off inside her hot, sensual, sexed young body. Taleisha was grunting with pleasure now. Her pussy cock filled, and my finger dug into her arse.
Just before the point in sexual momentum — where the body takes over from the mind, the ponytailed hitchhiker raised her gratification stakes.
I wasn't sure why she wanted me on the hard, sandy, warm ground at first, but I realised as she positioned her body away from me that she was erasing that skank, Speranza. She was going to give herself one mother fucker of an orgasm and push that cheap whore forever out of her mind.
Taleisha was spearing herself onto my cock, ball deep, then pushing with her energetic youthful thighs to the cusp of her pussy's sweet sensitive opening and then driving back down, then lifting her body up but sweetly enveloping my cock in her pulsating ribald action.
God was my cock being taken for a ride. My cock was hitched to her pussy's dominating accomplishment. Action rewarding her slit and awesome friction driving my cock insane with delight.
It was two bodies doing their exquisite sex stuff. Two bodies with maximum joined genital impact—bodies unleashed from any restraints, seeking and delivering bliss.
God, could sex get any better than this?
It was mind-blowing.
So when she turned quickly and arched her body over mine, I thought awesome.
I loved the reverse female dominant position.
But she wriggled her body higher and eased my cock directly into her tight arsehole.
Thank you God was the only intelligent thought I had.
My cock was locked in a tunnel of constricted pleasure.
So good, so great.
My cock was wrapped in exquisite tight fem-flesh.
And was Taleisha intent on filthy anal sex. Gaped, cavernous and pulsating, she gave it all.
The sweet ponytailed, formerly flustered, emotionally charged, cheated-on young woman was delivering all and seemingly more than a girl's arsehole is capable of giving to a cock.
Man, she was tight. Man, she was open to a filthy splitting depth. Fuck was she good. She was so good because, in the instance, she wanted to be so bad.
I loved it. I savoured it. My cock just accepted it.
Taleisha went the full constricting pulsation, the intimate lustful sphincter contractions that are reserved for the basest fulfilment of your life, and they were mine and hers.
She was positioned too carnally to let go; she was swept away by the consuming anal moment. She was enjoying great sex and had passed over completely from the bastard who had rejected her stunning body.
"Oh fuck…Oh fuck I feel good…Oh my God…I feel fuckin good…Yeah…Orrhh …Orh," she mouthed as she strangled my cock delightfully in her filthy, tightly yet stunningly gawped arse hole.
Her fingers a frenzy of rapid circular movement over her clithood. Her body was thriving, and her skin glowing from rapid pleasure waves.
"Cum in mouth you filthy bastard, "she screamed at me as she climaxed in a series of: "Ahh…Ahh…Fuck…Yeah…I'm cumming…I'm fuckin cumming…Oh My frickin God…Mmm…Mmmm…Fuck Yeah…"
Taleisha was past the point of debasement and enthralled in the wonder of her sexual power and her body's orgasmic response, but she still wanted a gob full of warm jizz.
I was happy to oblige. My balls were bursting full.
She was on her knees with the boab tree behind her. I was struggling to hold my load to give her what she wanted between her sweet, open lips.
God, I was full and packing a spume spray. So intense was my first jerky spurt; the jizz sailed over her head and splattered on the boab tree, dribbling in daubs over my initials and Anna's and Taleisha's.
I hardly had time to take that in. I then sprayed forcefully straight into the back of her mouth; geez, I was operating on pumped-up spunk.
The lass was surprised, too, at the catapulting force and the amount of sperm. I was excited beyond usual male exhilaration and was emptying the sack completely. The third big dollop smeared and rolled across and down her yellow t-shirt.
Then the vestiges of a creamy dribble were sitting on the head of my cock.
I was finished. I was gutted. I was so satisfied. I was utterly male, nothing more, until the revenge-driven minx; she had lust in her eyes, and she would be a selfish cock hunter for months now.
She took my so sensitive pecker head in her mouth and vacuumed sucked my shaft clean of any unreleased cum. Man, it was intense, my cock so sensitive; however, I manfully accepted it as pleasure went rife through my body. All my senses were on edge for wondrous continuous pleasure till she had had enough cock.
There were some clothes tidying up and a fresh T-shirt for Taleisha. She put it on at the car, facing away from me.
I saw it as she turned around: the caption across her bust;
You know nothing, Jon Snow.
Yeah, it was true: I still knew nothing about a woman's ultimate sexual capacity: but by god, Taleisha must have gone frickin close to the max.
I doubt that any guy knows the total sexual capacity of a woman, especially the power that emerges in sex undertaken for payback.
We had a relaxed, jocular time together till The Crossing.
We shared the ephemera of life, including unexceptional sex moments and the transience of travelling and hitching.
We didn't speak about our sexual feast: a partaking that was meshing into the consubstantial essence of two lives. We had both become more intensely human through our seemingly base-defining, unbridled sex.
Taleisha, the girl who had hitched with tears and emotional pain, now had a skip in her step darting across the road, leaving my car, and heading for the youth hostel in The Crossing.
Moi, the middle-aged driver, continued his journey for one more hour, passing the time effortlessly in the repeatedly savoured — probable sex of a lifetime- under the boab tree.