Robert Vickers - Summer in bondage

She went and lifted the hood. Taking the CB radio, she hooked up the leads and began a steady, "Little Beaver needs help – bad. If you can give me a ride, I'd appreciate it. Little Beaver's at the Notel Motel on the highway. If you hear me, please answer."

She kept sending her message until finally an answer crackled on the rig. "This is Silver Tongue, Little Beaver. Heading in your direction. Pick you up in five minutes if you wave. Over."

"Thanks, Silver Tongue. 10-4, I guess. Over."

"Gotta 10-99, then I'll see you. Catch you on the flip-flop. Bye-bye, Little Beaver."

Summer quickly unhooked the CB unit, closed the hood of Larry's car and ran for the highway. It shouldn't take more than five or ten minutes for the truck to come by. She'd be more than happy to hitch a ride with another trucker, no matter what sexual price he asked her to pay. It was worth it just to be alive and away from Larry and Sara.

In five minutes, a double rig semi came into view. She began waving frantically. The truck didn't even slow down though the driver certainly gave her a once over. He leered at her as he raced by.

Summer was sure that had been Silver Tongue. She was sure he abandoned her to the fate behind her in the motel. Just as she was thinking about running for it, another truck came barreling up. Again, she started to wave frantically.

This time, the truck stopped.

She leaped up onto the side and yelled in the window, "You Silver Tongue?"

"Sure am, Little Beaver. Hop in and tell me what your big problem is."

She tossed her pack into the coffin and slumped down in the seat. She said, "Roll. I don't want to be seen."

"Okay. I'm behind schedule as is. Been on the road fourteen horns and I'm not up to guessing games."

"What do you mean by that?" she snapped.

"Something's wrong and you obviously aren't going to tell me about it. I just don't want to play Twenty Questions. Either tell me what it's all about or out you go. I'm not supposed to pick up hitchhikers, but you sounded so scared."

Summer looked at the man. She liked his clean good looks. He had long brawn hair and powerful hands on the wheel. His shoulders were broad. Every fiber in his body radiated power and confidence. He was taking the gentle curves in the road with the skill of long years at a wheel yet he wasn't much over thirty.

What turned her on the most about the man was the droopy mustache. It outlined his mouth and gave him sort of a cruel look that contrasted drastically with the way he acted.

"I suppose you should know enough about what's going on." She hadn't meant to tell him everything but once she started, it all came pouring out.

She told about how she and her brother were fucking when her stepfather came in. How Bill was killed, how she ran away and was raped twice by Big Dick. Then the way she was raped by Fred and Burt. Finally, she ended up spilling her guts about everything Larry and Sara had done to her.

Silver Tongue sat and listened. He didn't say anything until she'd run out of words.

"I guess you explained why you stink so bad with grass. You positively reek with the odor. What you want to do to those two back at the motel? I can have them fixed good for you."

"How?"

"A call to the cops. No names mentioned. Just a description of their station wagon. The stuff they have in the back would send them up for more years than you could count."

"I… I don't guess so. Just let them be. Even tough they were thinking about wasting me, they did treat me okay for a while. And they did give me a ride when I needed it bad."

"So you want to let it slide?"

"Yeah."

There was a long silence between them. The miles evaporated under the singing wheels of the semi. Occasionally, the CB rig would blare out a warning about Smokies. Once, the phrase "bear in the air" came over loud and clear.

Silver Tongue let up on his speed until he was moving at a sedate 55 MPH.

"What's up?" she asked. "Why are you slowing down?"

"Didn't you hear about the smokey? They got a chopper in the air clocking the traffic around here. The last thing I need is a ticket for speeding. That's why I listen close to the rig. But you know all that. You've got a CB rig in your, knapsack. I see the mike hanging out."

Summer hastily shoved it back into her pack. She wondered what was going on with this stolid trucker. He hadn't made a pass at her. He'd just listened to her story, asked if there was anything she wanted done to Larry and Sara and then nothing.

"What's your name? All I got over the radio was your handle."

"Summer," she answered. "What's yours?"

"Harry."

Finally, after another long silence, Summer asked, "Look, when are you going to pull over?"

"What for? You gotta take a leak or something?"

She stared at him. He wasn't stupid. She knew that. Yet he didn't seem to want to take his pay for picking her up.

"You don't want to fuck me?"

He glanced in her direction and smiled. He hadn't missed the swell of her breasts, the nipples poking impudently against the thin fabric of her blouse, the skin tight jeans. She was pretty and young and desirable. He hadn't missed a thing. He said, "Yeah, it would be nice, but it's not necessary."

"I don't have any money to pay you for giving me the lift."

He shrugged it off. "That's okay. You don't owe me anything."

Summer thought on that for a while. She could hardly believe she'd found a trucker who wasn't going to take his due from her, especially since she'd offered. And she wouldn't have minded being fucked by this guy.

He was good-looking, had a strong, silent, earthy look about him that appealed to her.

"You're not a fag or anything, are you?"

His eyes flashed anger. "No."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to get you mad. I, well, I guess I'm sort of messed up in the head right now. All this heavy stuff getting dumped on me has scrambled my brain."

"I don't want anything off you so just take it easy."

"But I want to repay you!" she protested.

He said nothing. He simply drove his truck. But Summer didn't miss the bulge at his crotch. He was turned on by her, but was too much of a gentleman to take her up on the offer. She decided to do something about that.

She reached over and unzipped his fly. He said, "Hey, what're you doing? Cut that out!"

"I don't think you'd want me cutting this out. Besides, it looks too nice for me to ever want to cut up. Suck on, yeah, but not cut out by the roots."

She took his cock firmly in hand and began to stroke up and down its turgid length. He was hung like a stallion. His pecker jutted up a good eight inches. She wondered what he would be like in the sack, fucking her. Would he be as good as his cock seemed to indicate? Or would it be even better? She knew length didn't mean a thing.

She relished the feel of his warm cock under her fingers. The prick jerked and bucked with every heartbeat. She felt it pulsing faster and faster. The loose flaps of skin vanished as the cock became frilly rigid. It was ready to fuck. But Harry wasn't slowing the truck down.

Summer decided she would have to do more than take things into her own hands.

She'd have to take them into her mouth!

She lowered her face into his crotch. The crown of his dick was a plum-purple. The knobby end of his fuck stick seemed to beckon to her, call her on. Her mouth was like iron being drawn to a magnet. In a flash, she had taken the head of his prong into her mouth. She began sucking.

He groaned and wiggled around in his seat. He was a captive audience and couldn't do much else.

"Mmmm, good," she mumbled from his crotch. His cock felt so warm and hard in her mouth. She sucked a little harder and began tonguing it. Her rough, agile tongue sailed out. She made a complete circle around the rim of his prick.