Hitcher Slut - Chapter 3 (Patreon)

So I used to get up around 3 or 4 am, work until 7 or 8, and then start posting stuff. However, New Brunswick is part of the Atlantic Provinces, which have their own time zone. It is roughly 4 hours different from Alberta, where I used to live.

So it might appear to you that I am posting much earlier, as 10:00 am here (the current time as I post this) is about 6:00 am in Alberta.

Just a little FYI before I give you more to read. :)

________________________________________________

He sputtered! He couldn't help himself. Coffee would have been sprayed all over the dash if he had a mouthful of his extra-large double, double from Tim Horton's, but that had gone cold hours ago and he'd stopped drinking it.

The coffee sat, unfinished, in the cup holder between the two of them. He had purchased it on his way out of Sault Ste Marie, which was nearly six hours behind him at this point. He drank it down pretty fast at first, chugging it almost like water, but eventually that switched to sipping away at the cooling coffee.

Now the little bit left in the bottom was the same temperature as his car and not really drinkable. Even if you heated it up in a microwave, the taste would not be pleasant. It was part of why Tim Horton's advertising made a big deal that their coffee was always served fresh, because it tasted horrible if you left it for too long.

Their outlets were busy enough that this rarely happened to them, even really late or night or very early in the morning. However, it was store policy to just dump the whole pot of coffee out if it sat for more than thirty minutes. It was a good policy, and their coffee was pretty darn good when it was fresh.

She glanced up from her game quizzically as he regained his breath, "What?"

He stared back at her agape, "What do you mean by what?"

"You don't think I can be a stripper", she challenged him.

"I never said that", he retorted.

She puffed up a little defensively at that, "Well I can be, you know. I know I'm hot. The boys drool over me all the time, and I don't mind at all. I love showing off my body, and I love to dance. I'm going to start in T'under Bay, work my way up, and then go to Vegas!"

She said that last part with great pride and puffed out her feeble chest a little. She wasn't wrong. She wasn't voluptuous, but there was certainly something about her. She was pretty and looked quite sexy in her skimpy outfit.

Something about her reminded him of Candy. That was obviously not her real name, but a stage name that she had assumed. She was a bottled blonde that he had enjoyed a private dance with in Las Vegas one time. He'd gone to one of the smaller strip clubs, instead a big venue like Sapphire's, and Candy had immediately caught his attention.

Big, and clearly fake, DD-cup breasts thrust perkily from her chest. She had a nice hourglass shape to her, but it wasn't overdone. Fit, by the way she moved, but not obviously muscled. She had just a little pudge on her, but she wasn't fat by any means. A juicy, but not gigantic, ass filled her tight panties too.

Candy was pretty much the epitome of what he thought of when he envisioned the word, "Voluptuous". She was pretty, cute, bubbly, and sexy as hell. Almost exactly what you would expect with a name like Candy. She had proudly announced that her tits were brand new when he had started fondling them.

His cock reacted to his memories of Candy, pulsing and throbbing against his tightening pants. His passenger noticed and she also reacted, but not how he expected.

"Hah! See? You want a piece of this too!", she practically smirked.

He blushed, reeling a little at the rapid-fire series of events that had happened in the last few minutes and the incredibly odd conversation. He was on an emotional roller coaster after nearly running this young woman over. Hitchhikers were something that he never picked up either, but here she was in his car. That bothered him enough, but he still had no clue how old she was and this could easily be a setup to accuse him of sexual assault on an under-age girl. Or to just kill him and take his stuff.

That thought spurred him to hit the accelerator and get back on the road. It would be more difficult to harm him if he was driving at least. He headed down the highway for a few minutes, focusing on the road and trying to regain his self-control. It was mostly successful, though his hard-on wasn't going away.

The warm sensation of the hair sticking up on the back of his neck reminded him that he was no longer alone in the vehicle, despite his passenger having been quiet for a while. He glanced over to find her staring at him curiously.

Now it was his turn to ask stupidly, "What?"

Words tumbled out of her mouth so fast that he could barely follow what she was saying, "You're nice! I can tell. I have a sense about these sorta things. Plus, most guys woulda ripped my top right off of me by now. You're clearly into me, but you're holding back for some reason."

She considered him for a moment before continuing, "I don't have any money, and it'd be downright rude of me not to compensate ya fer the ride. Would ya like to touch me? I really don't mind."

He gaped at her in dumbfounded shock. He wondered if something was wrong with this girl. She still looked inappropriately young, but she talked so brazenly. She certainly didn't act like a little girl. She had the mouth of a streetwalker.

He began to pull over. Whatever the deal was with this chick, he was convinced that he was not safe with her. It would be much better for him to kick her out of the vehicle. That last thought made him pause, however, as he considered if he could really leave this young thing stranded on the side of the highway in the middle of nowhere.

That was all the hesitation she needed. She reached out, just as brazenly, grabbed his right hand off of the steering wheel, and stuffed it in the side of her crocheted top!