The music drowned out the sound of the storm. Bittersweet songs tinged with hope that was just out of reach filling the cab of my beat-up pick-up truck as the windshield wipers fought a losing battle against the torrent that had been unleashed shortly after sunset. If it didn’t let up soon I was going to have to pull over and wait it out – the service road that led past my trailer had a bad habit of flooding. As it was, I’d been forced to slow my speed drastically. Probably the only reason I saw her, my headlights illuminating a pale shape on the side of the road for a split second.
A ghost. No, really, that was my first thought. I was a little spooked, but I pulled over anyway, the engine still running and the lights on. If it was someone in trouble, I’d help. If it wasn’t… I lowered the passenger window down about four inches and double checked that the doors were locked as I watched the ‘ghost’ jog along the shoulder then slow, looking hesitant to get too close. Probably just as nervous as I was, having no idea who just pulled over. Was I the good Samaritan or the last person they’d ever see before becoming just another unsolved statistic in the middle of nowhere…
Eventually, desperation won over.
“Hi. I really need a ride. Please?”
She was more handsome than pretty. Dark skin, long lashes, full lips, auburn hair. Her pale yellow slicker looked less ghostly up close.
She didn’t look dangerous, but then, they never did. Still… if it had been me out there…
“Yep. Get in,” I told her, unlocking the door. “Mind the bags. Grocery run.”
Relief washed over her features, almost obliterating the fear that still tightened her eyes as she climbed in the cab, letting out a breath as she settled on the seat, half turned towards me, still uneasy. As was I.
“Where you headed?”
“Anywhere that’s warm and dry, I guess. Eventually, Seattle. At least, that was the plan.”
I thought that over for a few moments as I put the truck back in drive and pulled away from the shoulder.
There was a tremor in her voice. Wet, cold, and afraid. I’d been there too. More than once.
“Towel in the glove box. Best I can do. Ronnie. What’s in Seattle? Family? Friends?”
“No. Not really.”
I glanced over as she used the rag I kept for wiping the seats on her face, getting most of the moisture off, then turned the heater up for her and cracked the window for me. We rode in silence after that. It wasn’t exactly a comfortable silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. Two strangers, unsure of each other, keeping our thoughts to themselves. Eventually, one of us would break. It was me.
“You’re not a serial killer, are you?” I asked, trying to make it sound like a joke and it sort of was. And it sort of wasn’t.
“Do I look like a serial killer?”
“Don’t know. Never met one before. I’m not, by the way, in case you’re wondering. Got a trailer up a ways. Welcome to stay overnight. If the road doesn’t get washed out, I can drive you to town in the morning. Drop you off at the bus station.”
“Thanks. I mean it. Thanks.”
“Guy I’d gotten a ride with just sort of… dropped me. Wanted more than just witty conversation and…”
“It’s not easy being a girl, is it.”
“I like this. Who is it?” An obvious ploy at changing the subject. I can’t say I minded.
“The music? Phoebe Bridgers. Yeah, kind of obsessed.”
“It’s a little sad…”
“Aren’t we all.”
More silence. Outside, the storm lessened, thankfully. At least I wouldn’t have to pull over and figure out what to do. Usually, I’d just put the seat back and crash for the night. Usually, though, I was alone.
“Kind of out in the middle of nowhere.”
“Yep,” I agreed. It was, but I liked it like that – once I’d gotten used to it, at least.
“You sure you’re not a serial killer?” she asked, a nervous smile playing on her lips.
“Cross my heart.”
I turned up the service road, putting the truck into four wheel drive. Dirt and gravel. I could see, by the highbeams, that the water was sluicing down it. Few more hours and it would be impossible to navigate. Plenty of time to get home, though.
“Been there before? Seattle?”
“No. Never. It’s a long way from home.”
“Pride’s this weekend, you know.” Intuition, maybe. Or a lucky guess.
“I know…” the silence that followed spoke volumes.
I nodded, turning down the stereo enough to make conversation easier.
“It’s okay with me, Erica. If you like girls, I mean. I’m not going to leave you in the middle of nowhere. Especially in this storm.”
There was visible relief in her eyes and a slight quiver in her voice.
“Thank you. I… I don’t know. I’ve never been with a girl. Or anyone.”
“I have. Both.”
“Oh. Okay.” And then, very softly. “I’m kind of… both, Ronnie.”
I managed to keep my eyebrows level and just nodded. Not something you could really tell, but I’d wondered a little. Again, just intuition.
“Must be hard.” I cracked a smile, chuckling a little. “Didn’t mean it like that.”
Erica giggled softly, nodding. “Didn’t think so. And yeah, it is hard. Didn’t mean it like that, either.”
“You out? I mean, at home?”
She met my question with a shrug. “My mom. Sort of. My dad would…”
I just nodded, remembering the last time I’d talked with either of my parents. Even now, it still stung a little.
“Here we are. It’s kind of off the reservation. Not much, but it’s home. It’ll look better in the morning. Everything usually does.”
It really wasn’t much to look at. It was my inheritance, so to speak – a 1972 Shasta Trailer. Older than I was by about by about 20 years. A bit beat up, like me, but it kept the wind and rain out and it gave me freedom to do and be what I wished. I’d been living out of it for the last seven years now, putting a lot of TLC into it, and the quiet little meadow on which it sat, until it was as nice a place as I’d ever lived.
I unlocked the door – even in the middle of nowhere… especially in the middle of nowhere – you could never be to careful. Flipping on the light switch, I led the way in.
“You live here all by yourself?”
“Yep. Help me get the groceries in, then I’ll find you something dry to wear. Put on some coffee, too. Get us warmed up. It’ll be cozy. Barely big enough for me some days. Better than the alternative, though.”
I told her to sit at the table while I rustled up a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and one of the oversized flannel shirts I preferred.
“Bit small on you, but they’re dry.”
I chuckled a bit when she looked around nervously.
“This is it. Don’t worry. I won’t watch. Scout’s honor.”
I kept my promise, my back turned, my eyes closed, laughing to myself as I heard her struggle to take off her soaked clothing. Like I’d said, there wasn’t a whole lot of space in my Shangri-la in the woods. Eventually, she was done changing and I got to putting away the groceries, glancing out of the corner of my eyes, both of us content with semi-comfortable silence.
She’d taken her wig off to reveal closely shorn black hair. He was handsome. She was handsome, I thought, correcting myself. Sometimes God gets it wrong.
“You know, I thought you were a ghost when I first saw you. All I could see was your yellow slicker.”
“You believe in ghosts?”
“Not really. But that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
I set a cup of coffee on the table in front of her and slid into the other side, our knees knocking together. Like I said, tight quarters.
“Cream and sugar.” I pointed to mug on windowsill. Right next to my ceramic cat salt and pepper shakers. “Mostly for decoration. Or the rare guest.”
I kept my amusement to myself as Erica dumped two of each into his cup and stirred slowly. Neither of us spoke for the longest time. Just sat companionably, listening to the sound of the wind in trees and the rain on the trailer roof, until our mugs were drained.
“If I was, I’m not anymore,” she laughed.
“Yeah, me either. You get high?”
“Not really. No. My dad would kill me.”
“You want to? I’ll be your weed Sherpa. Promise not to let you do anything you’ll regret.”
So yeah, we got stoned, with me making sure Erica didn’t overdo it. It was nice to see her come out of her shell a little. The weed helped, but I like to think it was because she was with someone who simply accepted her for who she was. We talked. Just about whatever. You know how it is when you’re high? You just sort of wander around from one topic to another with no real destination in mind. Sometimes, though, you stop along the road for a while to look up at the stars…
“You ever get lonely up here, Ronnie?”
“Sometimes, sure. Few others around here who kind of feel like I do that’ll drop by for a chat. And I go into town once a week for groceries and a meal. Sometime catch a show. Nothing like movie theatre popcorn. Most of the time, I prefer my own company.”
We were silent again, both of us lost in our own thoughts. I’d folded the table up so that we each had our own cushioned bench, and a pillow, to lie back on. Erica’s feet stuck out over one end while my heels rested comfortably on the edge. Eventually, I got sleepy.
“There’s kind of a loft.” I pointed towards the back. “Be cramped. Usually just pull the benches together. Be crowded.”
“You mean, sleep together?”
“Sure. Promise not to try anything. And it’ll be nice. Been a long time since I’ve had a sleepover…”
A hell of a long time since I’d been held, or kissed, or touched, or… not that I was expecting any of that. Just be nice to not be alone for one night. Like I’d said, sometimes it did get a little lonely.
I got out a sheet and a couple of blankets before taking off my pants. Unlike Erica, I wasn’t shy.
I blushed at that, shrugging it off. She was high, after all.
“Help me pull these together. It’s getting late.”
It really was nice to have someone hold me. We spooned. I suppose I could pretend it was innocent, at least at first. It didn’t take long before I felt her cock harden against my ass. I didn’t make a sound. Instead I simply wiggled closer to her and pulled her arm around me, content for the moment, to feel her hand resting on my belly.
“Sorry,” she whispered, moving away from me after a dozen or so heartbeats.
“I… have an erection.”
“Mmhm. It feels nice.”
“Oh.” And then. “I hate it.”
“What?” I said, waking up a little, moving my hand until it rested over his.
“My… penis. It’s ugly. I could almost pass for a real girl, but…”
“You’re already a ‘real’ girl. Sometimes real girls have cocks. It happens.”
I didn’t answer her. Instead I guided her hand between my thighs.
“Don’t talk. Don’t think about it. Just pretend it’s yours, Erica. Your pussy. Touch it like it belongs to you.”
I could hear the nerves in her voice. The excitement too. I could feel her harden against my backside as I gently moved her hand.
“Here. Touch me here. Just your finger. Feel that? Mmm. Slowly. We’re not in a hurry.”
It didn’t matter that she was inexperienced. She was here, and it had been a long time. I shuddered, pleasure washing through me, breathless as I showed her how I liked to be touched.
“Kiss the back of my neck, my throat. And slip your other hand under me. Touch my tits. Please.” There was a little bit of desperation in my voice. I didn’t mind her hearing it. In fact, I wanted her to hear it.
“Just like that, keep going. Now… gently, gently, slide your finger up and down, see how wet I am? Get it nice and wet and push it… slowly, yes, oh, god, just like… into me…”
She was trying to go slowly, but I could tell her excitement was starting to get the best of her. Not that I minded. Lifting my leg up a bit, I gave her more room to explore.
“Don’t worry, you can’t hurt me. Two fingers now. In and out… “
“Oh, god, I’m… I’m…”
I laughed gently, understanding her dilemma.
“Then take your cock. Put it in me. Easy. Just press it against me, here…”
I maneuvered myself a little, squirming until I was comfortable again.
“There. Just slowly push your hips forward, Erica. Just like that. All the way in and-“
She groaned, loudly. I felt her cock swell and twitch as she pushed herself all the way in, her hand closing on my tit as if to hang on for dear life.
And she did.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she eventually managed, sounding mortified.
I just chuckled a little as I took her hand again.
“Make it up to me. Just like I showed you.”
I did most of the work but, eventually, she made me come too.
“Wow,” I agreed, closing my eyes, my fingers curling into hers, her cock, soft and wet, still inside me. It felt…
“Thank you,” she murmured shyly.
I simply nodded and wiggled a little closer, enjoying the feel of her face against my hair and her arm around me as I drifted off…
I awoke to find Erica leaning over the tiny kitchen sink, nose and forehead pressed to the square of glass. She was naked, her semi-soft cock dangling between her thighs. She looked almost angelic, the sun streaming in, lighting one side of her face. I stretched, letting out a soft groan as I straightened my legs.
“Not sure. What are you looking at?”
“Do I have to?”
She was silent for several moments, so I closed my eyes again, thinking I’d go back to sleep.
Wordlessly I draped the sheet over my shoulders before padding over, my hip brushing hers as I joined her, curious now.
“Oh,” I breathed, awestruck.
It had stopped raining, at least where we were. In the distance was a rainbow, one of the most vibrant I’d ever seen.
“Think it’s a sign?”
Shrugging, I rested my head against her shoulder, and shared the moment silently until she took my head in her hands and kissed me softly, her dark eyes damp with emotion as I ran my fingers gently over her shaved head.
“I can take you into town after breakfast. Road will probably be okay to drive.”
I leaned closer as she put her arm around my shoulders, enjoying the warmth of her body as I let the sheet slip to the floor.
“Or you can stay.”
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