The cabin was up in the mountains but, as often was the case, there was a small center at the base of the mountain road where people could resupply. This was where Stephen offered to drop Kylie off, and she had agreed; it was only an hour away.

That had been an hour and a half ago when Kylie still had all her clothes on, had been sitting in the backseat, and wasn’t sliding her hands up and down Stephen’s body whispering in his ears about how much she needed his cock.

Now she wore nothing but a tight-fitting tank top and a pair of panties. She looked like a college coed, her clothes piled up next to the car door and her dark red hair down and in a mess hanging over his lap.

“It’s so big,” she whispered, squeezing him through his pants. “Look at it. I need it. Please? I didn’t know how much I needed it but I really do…”

She had asked—once they got to the mountain base—to go with them up to the cabin so she could use the trails. She was a hiker, thus the backpack, and was always looking for some great place in the wilderness “to hang.”

Kylie and Rhonda had switched places, Rhonda asking to sleep in the backseat. Now that they were driving up the mountain trail, Kylie was right next to Stephen, staring at him with large needy hazel eyes, moaning and whimpering. He couldn’t stop or pull over on the narrow mountain road, nor could he spare much attention to fight Kylie off.

All his focus needed to be on the road. Probably he would have been rather worried about driving safely regardless, but his grandfather had died by driving off a mountain road and Stephen’s childhood was punctuated with several horror stories of his ancestor’s demise. It was the early evening now, and on this side of the mountain, the daylight wavered.

No sooner had Kylie traded places with Rhonda than the beautiful teenager started stripping. First she was too warm, then she was too dirty, and then she just started explaining that she really wanted Stephen to see her legs. Did he want to see them?

Boy, did he ever. They were long and supple and slender and her thigh-gap looked like it could hold a coconut.

“Do you think my mouth can even hold it?” Kylie asked him.

She referred to his cock. Everything she said was in a soft, melty-voiced whisper, her lips sliding against his ears. Big, soft tits pressing against his bulky arm, docking on either side. They felt like they were full of milk; smelled like it too.

“It’s so big. I can feel how big it is.” She squeezed his cock through his pants. “I’m not sure it would even fit in my mouth or my pussy. You’d probably break me forever.”

“Fucking hell.”

His trousers were slick with his precum, cock straining, begging to be released. Rhonda seemed perfectly asleep in the back. Exhausted from the day’s ordeals. A little bit of embarrassing drool ran from one corner of her mouth down onto her shoulder. Despite Kylie’s constant whimpers and begging, the auburn beauty’s decibel level was quite low. The car in low gear, the gravel trail of the mountain road, and the constant winds must have drowned out anything she said. But then, all it would take was a simple eye-opening from Rhonda to expose them.

“Please, sir?” she whispered again. “Please? Please let me just touch it. Would that be so bad?”

He struggled to find the reason why she couldn’t. His thoughts were clouded over with lust. If he were more sober, more aware, he might have wondered how it was that this hitchhiker seemed to possess the same need for him that women from town did. He might have wondered, too, why it hadn’t been as instant with her.

Instead all he could think about were her lips, glossy and pink and so close, and how he couldn’t kiss them because that would mean taking his eyes off the road and killing all three of them.

Her hand continued to slide over his cock, encouraging more precum to soak his pants. The cloth was so thin there now that she might as well be stroking him for real.

Might as well. That was a powerful phrase for someone like him.

Might as well have another few drinks at the party; the wife was mad with him anyway and he’d be sobering up for good tomorrow. Again.

Might as well hit on the secretary; she seemed to think low of him and would probably be out of his life soon, should see what could happen while it could still happen.

Might as well let this gorgeous virgin eighteen year-old vixen stroke him off if she was just going to stroke his cock over his trousers regardless.

Besides, wouldn’t it just make sense? Wouldn’t it be better to stop being so torn between two worlds? He could just let her suck his cock and then his thoughts would get clearer again, like they had with Ella. Wouldn’t that be a responsible decision for him to make?

This virginal, buxom beauty, so eager for his permission. That made his cock pulse even more, thinking of that. She was all over him—touching, kissing, cooing—but to actually touch or taste his cock for real required his permission because he was in charge of her. And the way she acted and sounded and moved, that meant he was in charge of her entire life.

He sighed. “It’s j-just…”

“Yes, sir? Tell me, please. I’ll do anything.”

He didn’t know how to explain it.

“I have a daughter. She’s about your age.”

“Oh, I see.” Her voice became somehow even lower and sultrier. Squeezing his cock harder. “Do I remind you of her? Do you want to call me her name?”

“…fuck.”

“You can call me her name if it makes you happy, Sir. I’ll dress up like her. I’ll become her friend. If she doesn’t want to fuck you like you deserve, I’ll hold her down. She should have a little fuckdoll friend, shouldn’t she? Someone whispering sin in her ear all the time?” Her voice changed octaves just slightly. “‘You’re so lucky to have such a hot Daddy. I wish I could surprise him in the shower in the morning and suck his cock like a good daughter. You’re so lucky to be able to do that.’ Like that, Daddy?”

“…fuck…fuck…”

“Do you want me to help teach her, later? Do you want her to have a special secret slavefucksister to serve you, Daddy?”

That…that was too much.

He let one hand down just for a moment and unzipped himself, guiding her hand onto his cock. Right away she started stroking expertly. She hugged herself into his body and sighed happily, loving every second of touching his cock.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “This is so amazing. It’s so big. Look at my fingers. They don’t even touch. You’re so huge, Daddy.’

He couldn’t look—but he was sorely tempted. But it would be too easy to stop looking at the road entirely. Her fingers were heavenly. Soft, long, and nimble. Nothing like what he might have thought her rough hitchhiking life would land her.

“What’s the deal with your girlfriend?” Kylie asked. “Why isn’t she doing this for you, Daddy?”

Again, she called him Daddy. Fuck. She really was taken under the same spell as everyone else in town. Was it his proximity? But if it was that, why was Rhonda still immune?

“No,” he shook his head. “No, we’re more like…I don’t know. Kind of enemies. Competitors in business.”

She scoffed. “What a bitch.”

As she said it, her stroking became more elaborate and long. Like she was showing off what she could do and what Rhonda wouldn’t. Her hand was already slick with his precum. A long, sticky, warm stream of drool dripped from her mouth all over his cock and balls.

His resistance evaporated. He needed to cum, needed her mouth on him.

“Take it,” he ordered her. “Take it all.”

She let out such a gleeful sound in response that he was almost worried that she would wake Rhonda. But as her lips found purchase over his trembling, spurting cockhead, Rhonda’s eyes remained closed. She looked almost like she was having bad dreams. Her hands drawn up over her lap and turned intensely to one side, eyes firmly shut and head pressed against the window.

In another world, another time, he might have been concerned. Something certainly seemed up with her, but he couldn’t figure out what.

Instead, while Rhonda lived a nightmare, he lived a dream with Kylie’s talented teenage mouth shunting up and down his shaft.

[TO BE CONTINUED]