The Drive - Part 3

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Or check in on Part 2.

The cab was beautiful. Sarah had told me the story while we ate: Her father had bought the truck so they could drive together, but a stroke had kept him from being able to stay on the road. Now Sara and Bruce were a long-haul team in a rig most young drivers would never have been able to afford. As I hauled myself up the two steps behind Sara, I was amazed by the color-coordinated interior. Orange and black seats. Tufted orange leather upholstery on the ceiling. Retro wood-grain trim. It was gorgeous.

Not that I got much time to look around. As soon as I stepped into the back Bruce shoved me forward onto the bed. I gave a startled scream and Sarah laughed. “Bruce,” she remonstrated. “You’ll scare her!”

“She should be scared,” he said. “Showing her pussy like that on the highway! Coming back to our place like a little slut!” He had a hand on my back, holding me down, as he stepped into the small sleeping area and sat down on the bed.

I was scared, Sarah was right. But there was a teasing note in Bruce’s voice that kept me from being terrified. While a part of my mind was saying, What the fuck are you doing here these people could be serial killers! another part of my mind was absolutely certain they were nothing of the kind. I didn’t struggle more than a token amount as Bruce pulled my legs onto his lap and started maneuvering my panties down. Sarah shifted over closer to us, so that my head was in her lap. She began to smooth my hair as Bruce lifted my skirt and began to explore.

“Sarah,” he said, “You won’t believe how wet this little girl is! You’ve got to feel this!” Sarah’s fingers joined his for a moment, then came to my mouth, rubbing my wetness on my lips.

“Be careful,” Sarah said. “She’ll drip on your pants.”

“Too late,” answered Bruce. “She’s that kind of slut.” Without warning, he landed a hard slap on my bottom, across the middle so it really stung. I yelped. “What’s the matter?” Bruce mocked. “Didn’t know you were going to get a spanking for all that naughty behavior?” He slapped me again. It hurt.

“Who said you get to spank me?” I answered, though not trying to get away.

He punctuated his answer with a quick series of stinging blows. “I. Say. Any. Girl. Who. Shows. Me. Her. Pussy. While. Driving. Gets. Spanked!” By the end of this imperious sentence I was wriggling and whining with pain and desire. I had not thought about what might happen in their truck beyond that it would be exciting. This was a little more exciting than I’d quite been prepared for. But as Bruce stopped hitting me and pushed two fingers into my drenched pussy, all thought about what I was doing and what might happen next left my mind.

We were all suddenly desperate. Things happened fast. Sarah grabbed my hair and lay back on the bed so my nose was mashed against her panties.  I opened my mouth to breath hot air through the cotton, taking in the smell of another woman for the first time. Bruce finger fucked me hard. I grunted and quivered and humped him and came. Then I was wrestling down Sarah’s underwear and she was handing Bruce a condom and I didn’t have mental space to feel nervous as Bruce fucked me and I devoured her.

Later, I tried to replay the experience in slo-mo. Finding her clit with my tongue. Bruce’s cock pounding into me and Sarah’s hands gripping my hair, keeping me tight against her. My need to taste and bite and suck. Thrusting my fingers inside Sarah as Bruce fucked me and I came, again, face slick with Sarah’s juices and my fingers feeling her pussy contract around them. Separating each sensation so I could remember it.

It couldn’t have been more than 15 minutes after we got in the truck that we collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap. I had my cheek on Sarah’s thigh. Bruce had an arm around each of us. I wanted to never move again.

“Chemistry,” Sarah murmured.

“Goddamn,” Bruce replied.

We rested. And then, far too soon, Sara sat up again. “We’ve got a deadline,” she said. For a moment I was confused. A deadline for what? Then I realized she was reminding Bruce. It was time for them to hit the road.

“I wish I could ride with you,” I said, reorganizing my clothes.

Bruce laughed and gestured out the window with his chin. “I like you down there where I can keep an eye on you.” With a few soft kisses, and a not so soft squeeze of my bruised bottom, we parted ways. They were due in Chicago that night, and I was still a day away from St. Louis.

As I got back in my car I realized I’d left my panties in the truck. Oh well. Given all the fuel I’d gained for my imagination, they’d only be in the way.