Hitchhiker ((closed))

Somewhere after midnight
In my wildest fantasy
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
It's gonna take a superman to sweep me off my feet

I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night
He's gotta be strong
And he's gotta be fast
And he's gotta be fresh from the fight
I need a hero
I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light
He's gotta be sure
And it's gotta be soon
And he's gotta be larger than life
​

"Holding Out for a Hero" blared out of the speakers and drowned out the zooming rush of cars traveling 80 and above on I66 West. Loose strands of ginger-brown hair whipped about from the wind blowing in from the opened windows and sun roof above. The young coltish woman driver cut loose, opening her vocal chords and belted along with the 80's rock ballad as she drummed her hands on the steering wheel and danced in the driver's seat. Forceful whisks of tunneling air made the skirt of the sleeveless jean dress flutter and billow away from slender legs. The young woman drove with her left leg bent and had her foot resting on the seat as her other foot worked the pedals with ease. She's been traveling for the past week and had long since left behind the correct way to sit while driving.

Jade green eyes danced with excitement of driving fast on the highway and singing along to one of her favorite soundtracks. Bright sunlight turned copper locks to red-touched gold and heated the fair skin dotted with light brown speckles. Her Father used to tell her that each one was a fairy kiss. She grinned at the memory. Now, she just thought of her freckles as a unavoidable flaw to her fair skin. Unlike her Father and Hannah, her older sister, her skin had a tendency to burn first, freckle after and resist tanning before going back to a rosy white.

The cross country road-trip was something she's always wanted to do, and she couldn't think of a better time to do it than in the summer after graduation. Being an overachiever and natural workaholic had it's perks. She devoted her time to school and graduated with honors. A dual degree on History and Literature with a focus on old lore and a minor in Latin. Yet, that drive to succeed meant that she spent very little time footloose and fancy-free like some of her friends.

She didn't really have a plan for the summer. There was a general idea of visiting friends in their own cities and towns, like her best friend Elizabeth. She just spent a few days hanging out with her in Fairfax, VA and exploring DC as a happy tourist. Other than that, she decided to be more spontaneous and let whimsy dictate where, when and how. Something she rarely gave herself the leisure to do.

Outside of seeing new places, seeing old friends and having a handful of new experiences, she didn't have any expectations. For a few months, she's going to just live and be a part of the moment. Then, she will have to choose. But she didn't need to make that choice until after summer. If she decided to accept. It was a very big, very tempting, if...

"Oh, I should get gas before I head towards Skyline Drive. And a bathroom. Definitely a bathroom."

Not too much later, a sign for a Sheetz came up on along the highway and she pulled off on that exit. As she drove around the curve of the ramp to merge onto the road, a figure distracted her enough to make her slow down even more. A man in a plain t-shirt, cargo pants and a large backpack held up a sign:


If how he looked was any indication, it looked like he's been there a while. His brown hair curled in perspiration and laid plastered to his head. But he stood with a confident ease on the side of the road. It looked like he could stand there all day and not feel the weight of the heat or time.

Something about him perked her interest. She wondered who he was, where he was headed and why he was out there hitchhiking. It's not like hitchhiking was the safest way to travel. Though, once upon a time, it was a more common way to travel and explore.

She liked the way he drew the thumbs up on the sign on the cardboard. It showed an artistic bent that piqued her even more. "Oh crap, I passed it!"

She laughed and hummed along with the soundtrack as she made her way to Sheetz. She followed a routine she's established: put on her flip flops, filled up gas, cleaned the front & back windows, browsed in the gas station shop, used the bathroom and figure out if she wanted to grab anything for the road. The hitchhiker crossed her mind and on a whim, she grabbed an extra water bottle, two bottles of Mexi-cola and beef jerky. If he was still there, she would stop and offer a ride. It's a toss-up on whether or not he'll still be there.

Surprisingly, he was still there but on the other side of the road. Which was convenient because it was the same side as the exit ramp for I66 West. She pumped her horn a few times to get his attention as she slowed down to stop next to him. She leaned over towards the passenger window and called out, "Hi! I'm kinda heading west. Do you want a lift? I don't really have a plan but I'm heading to Skyline Drive. I heard it's a great view to drive along and that sounded like a good idea."

Life on the road has it’s ups and downs, but you can argue life off the road has ups and downs too, just different ones. After two weeks of trying to get to the west coast, Geny seemed to have more downs than ups. Two weeks, and he hadn’t even made it to the Mississippi, barely a couple of days outside of New England. At this rate, he will run out of cash before he reaches the Rockies, which means he may have to find work there or worse yet call home.

It’s not what he hoped, nor close to what he expected. Just the last summer, he had the experience of a lifetime when he thru-hiked a good 500 miles of the Appalachian Trail from ‘almost half-way’ at Harper's Ferry to the Berkshires. What started as a whim, became an life-changing event, one that proved to him that he couldn’t see himself tied down to a desk or a machine to rub out a paycheck every two weeks. After months of nagging and bickering, his immigrant parents gave him an ultimatum to find a job or join the military. He accepted, but on his own terms. His cousin ran a beach shop in California, so the plan was to head west, work for him, and figure out what a grown-up Geny will do with his life.

Feeling that itch to hike again, Geny sold his car and strapped his pack to his pack to head west. With warm summer days and nothing but a good pair of shoes, he felt he could hike and hitch his way in time to see the fireworks from a beach house. If he would have kept his car, he would have been there by now. He wouldn’t have been rain soaked outside of Hartford. He would have avoided needing to take a train to get around NYC. He could have skipped his time with that weird family from Concord through New Jersey. He thought maybe he could talk someone into getting him further west so he can pick up the AT again and head south for a while - just to get his mind off of how tough the road has been. Yet everyone is sticking close to the coast, until someone pitched him to the DC suburbs.

Some would argue that the adventure of hitching across America is worth every bit of curses and blessings. But when you are in the moment, when most of what you see is the troubles, then it becomes that every little thing you can see is the troubles. That morning was probably the perfect example of it.

Last night, he crashed at a hostel in Manassas. Sitting around, talking to the other folks, and doodling a cartoon thumb onto his cardboard sign, he was starting to feel normal again, enjoying that comfort among strangers that you can get. At sunrise, he got up, took a shower, and felt refreshed for the first time since he started out - almost to the point that he forgot how good it felt to be clean for a day. Then what would normally be pretty awesome, turned into something pretty frustrating.

A couple of Russian tourists whom he met the night before were using the showers themselves. Geny accidently walked in on them. Usually, walking in on two women, both young, tight, and gorgeous without a lick of clothing on, wouldn’t be a problem. But when you have been on this long of a dry spell, and you can’t get the image of all the good parts on a cute girl, it is everything you can do to concentrate on the day. From the moment he left that bathroom, every detail of each of the breasts, every line of their hips, and even the sharp crisp angles of their well trimmed dark pubic area burned its way into the back of his mind. The bathroom smelt of the same cheap soak that he used himself that morning, so whenever he caught a whiff of himself, his mind immediately shot to the bare girls in all their splendor. His mind could imagine what lay between their legs, what the feel of each breast would be, what the warmth of their flesh against his could feel like. His mind started to race what he should have done in that bathroom, what he could have done, what they might let him do.

Surrounded by strangers still rising and readying themselves in the Hostel, Geny realized that this was going to be no place to take care of his frustrations. He needed to hit the road. With his full pack on his back, Geny got out of that place as soon as he could. Wearing a grey cotton t-shirt advertising a random bar named ‘Quinns’ and a pair of brown cargo shorts, he had made it to highway in a hurry. With his cardboard sign that complimented the cartoon thumb with the line saying “ANYWHERE WEST”, caught a ride that got him only one more exit down I-66. Still, the next intersection seemed busy enough that his hopes were high. Also, chances were, those Russian girls are heading the other way.

Just when he was starting to give up and find something to eat, an older black Honda pulled up and the window rolled down. She was a fresh faced ginger with more freckles than cares, and a welcoming offer her eyes sparkled with excitement. She offered a ride west, by way of Skyline Drive, a legend on the AT thru-hiker’s stories. So, how can he not pass that up.

“Absolutely, I’ve always wanted to go down the Skyline,” he replied. Throwing his pack into the back, he hoped into the passenger seat and offered his hand. “Geny,” he introduced. “Geny Baniti. Short for Yevgeny.”

She tilted her head at him with curious green eyes and shook his hand in greeting. "Yevgeny? Where's that from? I don't think I've ever heard that name before." She asked him as she took the blue and green scrunchies from her wrist and twisted the long length of golden-red hair into a sloppy ponytail and knot at the back of her head. "Could you hand me a Mexi-Cola from the bag at your feet? I have a mild addiction to Cola. It's the only soda I can't seem to give up. Oh! I'm Claire Blackwood."

Up close, she could see that he was a young man a nice tan. That made her a little envious because she couldn't tan no matter how she tried. With the windows and sunroof open, she learned to be proactive about putting sunscreen on every few hours or she would have hell to pay the next day. She took the glass bottle from Geny, smiled her thanks and opened it with a bottle opener from the cup rest. She took a long chug of the annoyingly addictive soda and gave a happy sigh.

"Crap. I forgot to put lotion on." Claire shot an apologetic glance at her new traveling partner. "I love the sun but my skin hates the sun. Hence all the annoying freckles and sunburn." She grinned as she pointed to her nose. She grabbed the Alba Hawaiian sun lotion from the door cubby and squiched a glob onto her hands. A recently acquired habit, she easily covered her arms, face, neck, shoulders and chest with the lotion and rubbed it in. Soon, the light scent of mango and baby powder filled the car.

"Hope you like the windows open because it's my favorite way to drive. I may also love 80's rock." She grinned as she took the car out of park and looked before merging in with traffic and getting on I66 West. "It's another hour or so to Skyline Drive. I had planned to drive it from the north entrance and follow it down to the southern bit. Maybe have dinner in Roanoke? I'm not sure exactly where to go from there. I figured I'll figure it out as I go. Where are you traveling to? Anywhere west is a huge area."

“It’s Russian, actually,” he said settling into his seat and digging out the cola. “My mom is from Russia, and I guess it’s her dad’s name.”

When he handed her the bottle, that’s when he really noticed the girl. He never had a thing for gingers, but really never thought about it. Still, she was smoking hot. From the way her thick lips seemed to itch to be licked. To the way the freckles cascaded her arms.

“Yeah, sorry about the burns. That’s not a problem for me mostly. I will burn a little at the start of summer, but once I get that tan started it don’t stop.” Every move of her lotion soaked hand, he watched in close detail. Something about the way her skin glistened in the sun as she did so made him think of massage oils or something far more sensual.

That’s when he first noticed the strange way she sat. Somehow she figured out how to drive with one leg, prop the other underneath her. It had the effect of keeping her legs spread at the thighs and pushing the her jeans dress upwards to the point that it almost strained at the hem. Because it was buttoned down to the bottom, there was an additional split right in the front almost pointing up where it stopped just short of her crotch.

The aroused state he was in from earlier in the morning came rushing back to him, and he quickly looked away to the road. Still he listened to her and took in her questions. “Skyline Drive. I’d love to see that myself. The Appalachian Trail runs along it. I met some guys last summer who were through hikers, they said it was the best part of the southern half of the AT. So I am in if you want to head that way.”

“Where are you going to, you have to be heading somewhere,” he tried to answer. “Eventually I need to end up at Manhattan Beach outside of LA, so as long as I am heading west at this point I am making ground.”

Casually he turned back to her, his eyes once again falling onto her legs. He tried not to stare, but couldn’t get his eyes to leave that view. “So,” he questioned, fighting of a bit of dry mouth as he did, “you pick up hitchhikers alot?”

"Russian? It's different. Do you get teased alot for having a name that sounds like a girls?" Claire glanced over at him quickly before looking back at the highway. She couldn't imagine that he gets teased about much of anything. Despite his casual clothes and being a hitch hiker, he seemed to be very confident and not the type to take any teasing or bullying.

Claire didn't think about it. She just moved her left leg up and propped it up against the closed vent on of the dashboard. It caused the skirt part of her jean dress to ride up higher on her thighs. Over the past week, she learned that her muscles easily became sore if she didn't re-position herself every once in a while. It made driving more interesting and she could stretch her muscles without having to stop every few hours to walk.

"Yeah! Let's pick up a map at the entrance of Skyline and make a stop to walk one of the trails. I would love that. I'm somewhat prepared for any type of sleeping situation. At worst, I figured I can sleep in the car or use my sleeping bag. Mostly, I've been traveling to see friends and crashing on their couch."

Things were quiet for a bit as she wove through a dense bit of traffic. She had wondered if it would be weird to drive with a stranger but it was actually quite comfortable. Like she gained an adventure buddy without knowing that's what she had wanted.

Something itched on her shoulder and she tried to pat it away but it persisted. With one hand on the wheel, she scratched her shoulder but it still itched. Finally, she just pushed the right strap off her shoulder and felt immediate relief.

"You're going to Manhattan Beach? What's there? I have plans to try and visit my friends in Nashville, New Orleans, Atlanta, Austin, Chicago, Tulsa, Denver, Albuquerque, Seattle, Portland and San Francisco. I also want to see the Niagara Falls but I figure I may get there on the way back. So I have a plan but it's not really a plan. I thought I would try to be more spontaneous on my first cross country road trip."

She flashed a grin at Geny. "Congratz! You are the first hitch hiker I have ever picked up. Please don't be a serial killer."

“Yeah, I used to get teased about the name. All those guys seemed to think that it’s just as easy to make the ‘g’ soft. Like Jenny. But I start pulling out my Russian accent then.” Then switching to try to make the accent he started in. “Geny. Gah Gah Geny. With Hard G. Hard like Siberia Winter. Hard like Bear we crush you, with moose and squirrel.”

After she spoke about hiking he looked in the back of the car quickly to see how comfortable it would be to sleep in there. “I have to say, you may be the quickest before a girl started talking about sleeping arrangements with me.” To make it feel playful, he gave her a pat on the knee. It was quick and brief and meant to be nothing but to show the sarcasm he was trying to portray, but also … he really wanted to touch her knee.

As they continued to drive on, he settled back into his seat, and would occasionally look over to his driver. At first he couldn’t help to keep an eye on her legs. They way her feet were positioned now, the skirt she wore had ridden nearly up to hips. To add to that, the button down front split at the hem, and there was a hint of white cotton that peeked out from time to time. The more that Geny tried to not stare at her, the more he was consumed with what lay underneath that skirt. He wondered if the freckles on her legs keep going up. If her skin was as soft or softer than what he felt when he brushed her knee.

It took a bit before he realized she was asking a question. So he nearly blurted a response. “Umm, Manhattan Beach. It’s LA actually. Not saying you have to get me there, but whoever does can get me to LA and I think I make it the rest of the way.”

Then she flashed that grin to him. It was the first time he realized how beautiful of a girl Claire was. Even her comments about the freckles that flooded her face and neck failed to even prick his attraction to her. She was stunning, and moreso when she smiled.

To respond, he put his hand onto her thigh. Didn’t even think about it, just did. “I promise I won’t serial kill you if you promise not to serial kill me.” He took his hand away from her thigh, but the heat of it lingered on his fingers.

‘What are you doing,’ he thought to himself. He looked at her and smiled, trying to keep the mood light, happy, and not to make it feel creepy.

The touch of his hand on her thigh was a nice contrast to the cool breeze whooshing into the car and the sun shining down. His comment on the other hand, made Claire laugh and she tried to smack him on the side. Instead her hand plopped against his lower abdomen and she hit him a little harder than she intended.

"Oh! Sorry! I didn't meant to hit you that hard. Are you okay?" She glanced over and gave him a playful wink. "I won't let any serial killers get you. Between my Dad and sister, I've been learning martial arts since I could walk. You can pretend to be the tough guy and I'll surprise them with my ninja skills. HiYAH!"

She pantomimed chopping the air with both hands for a brief second and placed her hands back on the wheel.

"What's waiting for you in LA? I just graduated and thought it would be cool to actually do an old fashioned cross country trip."

Claire couldn't stop thinking about how firm his stomach felt when she hit him. It made her really curious to see what he looked like beneath the t-shirt and feel him for more than a couple of seconds. Her ears turned red. She hoped he didn't notice.

Geny gave playful cartoonish karate chops back at her, laughing along with her as he did. So quickly they fell into a pretty chummy friendship for a couple of complete strangers, and while he was still feeling pretty ‘on edge’ she took his potentially creepy touches with a sense of humor. Literally giving it right back to him.

He rubbed his side where she smacked him earlier. “I think you bruised something.” He pulled up his shirt and took a look. There was no sign of problems, not even redness from the ‘attack’. Yet he still saw something that bugged him. “Holy Shit … I’ve turned all farmer tan. You don’t mind if I do something about that, do you?” He pulled his shirt up and over his head before tossing it into the back. There was no denying the way his bronzed arms, face, and neck clashed with the rest of him. His torso was as white as a white boy can get.

Of course, it was also very lean and strong. Two weeks with a heavy pack on his back and long periods between a good meal chiseled out his hiker abs again.

“Waiting for me in LA is a lot more of this sun. I usually just need to get a tan going and then I don’t have to worry about the burning. Not like you do of course.”

With that comment, he patted his hand onto her thigh. Innocent enough as if pointing out like she did before how her fair skin can be so sensitive to the sun. What wasn’t so innocent was this time, unlike the rest of the time, his hand did move away.

He continued talking as if nothing was odd about where his hand was. “My cousin owns a shop on the beach, and I am going to try to get a job there, or at least crash there until I can get a job. It’s a destination at least, something new and different to do with myself. But I envy you. Running all over the country without much of a plan. You’re going to see a lot of cool things, you know? The kind of road trip that people talk about forever. That’s pretty awesome if you ask me. You planning on taking a lot of pictures and stuff? Doing a lot of hiking too?”

His questions became faster, his words became faster.

His hand, still didn’t move.

Claire laughed with Geny. It felt like they've been friends for a long time. What a pleasant surprise to be at ease with a stranger. Maybe this is what she's missing in her life. Incidental connections that could lead to something more than a casual exchanged greeting.

She liked the way his laughter came from deep in his chest. It was boyish, full and charmingly masculine. Claire giggled at his exclamation about farmer's tan.
Without looking, she reached into the door cubby and pulled out the sunscreen lotion. She tossed it over at Geny.

"Here. You're white top looks almost as pale as mine. With less freckles! Uh I have freckles everywhere. Use the lotion. I don't want you to burn. Well. Maybe I do. I think you'll make a great Lobster Man."

She glanced over at his bared chest and saw the clear lines of his tan. The shirt hid how much definition he had. All sorts of intriguing slopes and hollows--

Claire cringed a bit as she hastily realigned the car to stay in the lane. She realized his hand was on her thigh. It helped to calm down her pitter-pattering heart to calm down. It was nice to feel his calloused hand on her skin. The way her muscles moved beneath his hand as she shifted her right foot to pedal gas or break pedals.

"I grew up on travel stories from my Dad and I always wanted to do something like that. I had a summer internship offer but I decided against it and did this instead. As long as I don't go hog-wild and stop to see friends, I'm not going to bankrupt my savings. I want to see everything. Well, kind of... Hey, do you want to go on the trip with me? I mean. I know we just met but I think it'll be fun. Unless you have to be in LA."

A blush grew over her cheeks and spread down to her chest. She's usually not this talkative or forward. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. Right?

The bottle of lotion landed between Geny’s legs. Taking his hand from off of Clair’s thigh, he didn’t hide the fact that left the bottle there as he squeezed out some lotion to start lathering up his lighter skin. He started at his shoulders, rubbing the sweet smelling lotion into the skin that callused some from the rawness of the pack straps. He continued down over his chest, the coolness having an effect on his skin. Then lingered some at his abs, not at all missing the fact that it had drawn some attention from Claire, and if this teasing could help his cause some he wasn’t going to stop himself from doing it.

Of course he didn’t need to watch himself as he applied the sunscreen, so he kept his eyes on Claire. There was little doubt in his head that he could see the color run across her face and guide his eyes to what lay below the dress. It told him that even the most forward of his advances were having some positive effects on the girl. While he was sure that there would be limits, it only fed the fire inside of him as he felt the warmth rush over his own skin, and felt a light tingling where he was closing up the sunscreen bottle.

“Where’s this go, over here?” He asked as he reached over her waist with the lotion and dropped it into the cubby. When he pulled his left arm back, he again placed it on her thigh. This time, he boldly did it without reason to. Also, it was so high up her thigh it was nearly to the edge of her panties, even going as far as having to push up the hem of the skirt.

“Speaking of bankruptcy, I should warn you,” he began as if the conversation had nothing to do with the rising attraction between the two, “I don’t have an awful lot of money to be touring the countryside. I have some, but at the rate I am spending it, I will have to stop off before the Rockies to work and make enough scratch to get me the rest of the way. Don’t get me wrong, it would be kick ass to see the stuff you are talking about, and I am in as far as I can go.” He teasingly thought to add, “So if you are thinking I will split the fare for Disneyworld, princess … I may not be able to cover my half. Anyway, why don’t you have anyone else coming with you? You couldn’t talk anyone else into such an adventure.”

As he spoke, his little finger began small circles on her skin, each movement edging further under her skirt. Each movement become more proof of how bold he was becoming.

Claire caught pieces of what Geny was doing from the corner of her eye. After her little slip up earlier, she tried to focus more on driving than trying to eye her passenger. When he started to rub the lotion into his chest and abdomen, she unconsciously licked her full lips and shifted in the driver seat.

“Where’s this go, over here?” he asked. Claire him reach over to tuck the lotion back in the door cubby. His arm pressed into her lap and skimmed her left thigh. Her leg was propped up against the vent of the dash. His hot skin felt rough and smooth. She wondered why it felt like that. Wondered if she could just reach over and touch with her hand. But would it feel the same if she did? Would it feel the same as it did on her thigh?

She picked up her water bottle and took a couple of large gulps. She pulled the bottle away too high and it spilled water down her chin, neck and chest to splatter on her dress. "Oh crap!"

Claire grabbed a few napkins from the cubby to wipe up her chest. She fumbled two more buttons opened to reach down beneath the denim dress. She laughed at herself. "Well, at least it's just water, right? I could change clothes but I'm not ready to stop yet. Hopefully, it'll dry fast."

Geny's hand was on her right leg and spinning little circles on her skin. It made her feel less spastic and like nothing abnormal had happened. Just a silly mistake and nothing to worry about. His touch felt comforting.

"All of my friends had plans for traveling overseas or going into great jobs right after graduation. Besides, I wanted some time to myself and try to do new things on my own. It's not a bad idea to do work during the trip. What kind of side jobs do you usually do to get by? What's it like hitch hiking? Have you done it before? Uh, how old are you?"

To Geny, when she spilled the water over her chest and started fumbling to dry it off, it became almost like an invitation. She didn’t seem to do it on purpose, but it was hard to draw his eyes away from the golden skin now glistening in the sun. Even harder to ignore that her dress now was a little more unbutton. She made no effort to push away his hand. No mention of where it was. Not even showing signs that all of it was uncomfortable to him.

He grew bolder. He slid the palm of his hand upward on her thigh over the front of it towards himself. It pushed her skirt up her hip. It strained the buttons near the hem more. It exposed the white cotton gusset of her panties. Between how she unbuttoned the denim herself at her breasts to the effort he made at her legs, the dress was losing the battle to keep her covered.

“I’m 23,” he responded no longer watching the road. “I don’t know what I will find for work. Just thought I could walk around some town and find something. Washing dishes, hauling crap, whatever.

His hand slid back down her knee then moved up her leg. When it came to a rest his small finger was against her panties. Any movement now by that digit, and it would be testing what lay beneath that cloth.

“Been hitching my way south from Maine. Last Summer, I hiked a bunch of Appalachian Trail last summer, and sometimes you need to leave the trail and hit town. Usually I just have to hitch a couple miles, sometimes more. Lots of good people out there willing to help a guy out.”

"Oh look! Rte 522 is coming up. That's the exit we need to take. I looked up the directions earlier and I wanted to take a more scenic route. I figure we'll see signs for Skyline drive and go from there." Claire said excitedly. She dropped her left leg down to the floor and bounced in the seat. It had the unexpected result of trapping Geny's hand between her thighs and she felt him poke into her. She turned beet red and she was awfully glad the open windows let the wind whoosh cold air to defuse the heat a little.

What had been a comforting touch of little circles have suddenly turned into something far more intimate and she wasn't sure what to think. "I-I-" She coughed. "Could you hand me the chocolate donut holes? They're in the back somewhere. I uhm could you hand me one at a time? They're probably a little messy by now..."

She chewed on her bottom lip. Squirming in the seat.

"You look older than 23. Friends keep saying I need to work on looking my age. Something about me looking like I'm still jailbait." Claire tried to insert some humor into the conversation and maybe change the topic. The topic being private parts, melting and not knowing what to do about it. She babbled, "What made you start hitch hiking? Didn't you think it would be too dangerous? I think I'd be too afraid of the dangers to do it myself. I also like being able to choose when I go and stay. So having a car is pretty handy. I've had my car since I was 18. It's a little beat up but it totally gets me wherever I want to go."

Claire grabbed her water bottle and took a quick sip before dropping the bottle back down next to her. Her heart was pounding harder. She kept looking at Geny with short little glances to the side. There was a light gleam of sweat on his bare torso and she could see that he was breathing a little faster. Just like her...

He saw the sign for Rte 522 and Front Royal, a town well known from the thru hikers he had met the last summer. In a different situation, he would be excited to see the town that he heard stories about; but not surprisingly his attention was elsewhere. The cool air, rushing in through the windows helped keep his calm, but it was getting harder and harder to control his desire. Being so close to her sex was not only causing his face to feel hotter; but the rush of blood was making something else harder and harder too. She wasn’t pushing his hand away, but there were signs now he made her too uncomfortable. She squeezed her thighs together. It trapped his hand now, which wasn’t like pulling his hand away but it did stop him from exploring further. It did mean his pinky was practically in contact with her goods, but still - if he can’t move his hand closer that would be it then.

Of course, asking him to get the donuts out of the back was a clearer sign. There was no way around it. He couldn’t reach anything in the back using his right hand, he’d have to pull his left hand away from her to get it.

He did it suddenly, pulling his hand free, unclasping his seat belt, and turning to look in the back seat all in one movement. His hand still felt warm from the intimate touch, and he was tempted to give it a sniff. He through to continue talking to distract from the immediate loss of the touch. “I’ll take it as a compliment about looking older, but I hope that doesn’t mean I look to beat up from the road. I had to take to hitching. I don’t have a car and wouldn’t have been able to afford one that could get me there either.” He continued to dig around for the donuts some. “You couldn’t have gotten this car new when you were 18, did you? I mean, you barely look like you are over 18 now.”

He found the donuts, and turned again to the front seat. He clasped his seatbelt and opened his bag while continuing to talk. “You going to school or something? That why you have the summer off to travel like this?”

Geny reached into the bag and pulled out one of the donut holes. The heat had caused just as much of chocolate to grease up his fingers. “Yuck. Probably messy is an understatement,” he laughed. He prepared the donut hole between two fingers and playfully said, “Open.” Just before he attempted to shove the first one in her mouth.

One second she could feel his finger pressing into the most intimate part of her and the next he was draped over the seats as he looked for the donut holes. The space between her legs felt oddly empty. She could almost feel the way his hand pressed into her thighs. She wondered if the print of his hand was there on her skin... She had the kind of skin that marked easily.

Geny twisted and his bare rib cage pressed into her arm. She could feel the damp of his sweat, was that rapid pulse his or hers and the subtle movements of his muscles. A waft of shampoo and soap drifted over her when he returned to his seat.

Claire hoped she wasn't blushing as hard as she thought she was. "I just graduated. I may not look it but I'm 22. I decided to be irresponsible and go on an adventure before I go back home."

Next thing she knew, a gooey chocolate donut hole was pressed against her lips. She automatically opened her mouth and ended up taking the messy treat and his fingers into her mouth. Her tongue flickered and laved over his finger. She ended up sucking on them as he slowly pulled his hand away.

Her mouth flooded with saliva as she chewed and moved the sticky mass in her mouth. She thought she tasted a bit of salt from Geny's fingers. Salty and sweet. She tried to say think you but all that came out was a muffled jumble.

Claire saw the exit and started to slow down to take it. The ramp curled around to spit them out on a smaller road. A part of her was preoccupied with going in the right direction but she would be lying if she said that she wasn't thinking more about the next bite of her wicked sugar addiction.

The way Claire suckled on his fingers made Geny feel that familiar surge in his groin. Her likely unintentional act to pull in the last of the chocolate caused his mind to simulate the sensation elsewhere. With his direct touching from before, this gave him unconscious bravado to push his luck. Unwilling or not, she was throwing up additional signs that simply said, ‘proceed with caution’.

He pulled another donut hole from the bag, half of a second one hung from it’s back in a sticky chocolate goo.

“Here I was thinking that college is where people do all those irresponsible things,” he quipped.

Lifting the donut up to her full lips he offered the new piece. “What did you go to school for?”

As she bit down on the new pastries, the half that seemed locked onto it’s brother slipped free and fell. It tipped against the opening of her dress near her chest, slapped some of it’s chocolate onto her skin, then rolled down the front of the denim until it came to rest in her lap.

“Oh crap,” he jumped. “Let me get that.” He grabbed at the donut, his fingers pressing into her crotch at first without much intent, but let them linger there just a beat longer before picking it up. “Sorry, you got chocolate down your front. Where are your napkins.”

Between her mouth being full of gooey chocolate, face blazing as red as her hair and driving the curve of the exit ramp onto the local road, Claire was a little preoccupied and wasn't able to answer Geny's questions.

The hand she dropped to her lap was a second slower than his and she ended up pushing his fingers into her skirt. It almost felt like there wasn't any materials there. She felt like he touched her directly on her clit and a zap of heightened arousal surged up her spine. Their hands became a tangled mess of intentions, crushing the donut hole into the skirt and all over their hands.

Her cries of dismay and the moan of unexpected desire were muffled by the doughy wet mass in her mouth. She could feel the chocolate glaze coating part of her lips, sticking to her skin on her chest and gumming her fingers. Yet it was Geny that made her feel as though the very tips of her hair follicles were alive.

She managed to swallow some of the dessert and grabbed his hand and stopped it by holding it against her lower abdomen. She eased the car to a stop at the red light. She hoped her face wasn't as red.

"There are some wet wipes in the back seat. Can you find the pack?" She looked down. Her skin was lightly tanned but awful pale in comparison to Geny's darker tan. It was her hand holding his still but she realized that he's much larger than her. The thought of his strength made her flush brighter. A trickle of sweat careened down her neck and easily followed the contours of her body to settle on the hollow of her collarbone.

She licked her the frosting from her lips. The sound of her lips smacking suddenly loud in the car.

"Maybe we should stop at a gas station and wash up instead?" Claire realized that she was still holding his hand against her and clumsily let go. She spread her messy fingers and waggled them at Geny. She tried to joke, "Look, you made a mess."

Her heart was beating awfully loud and fast. Could he hear it?

"Maybe we should stop at a gas station and wash up instead?"

“Oh no, I got this,” he stated with napkin found. He balled it up quickly and gave it a few licks to wetten it. He was trying to move quick, desperately doing what he can to keep this momentum going. It was subconscious but not different when as a boy he got that first french kiss, and he pushed it with a hand up a shirt, and a hand elsewhere. Claire’s reaction to the hand that found the fallen donut was unmistakable. Yes he was taking liberties with the coed but she had yet to refuse his advances, and the pumps that were priming in his own need seemed to be priming her’s as well. So he was not going to allow a visit to a gas station to keep this from moving faster.

When she waggled her fingers at him, he took her delicate hand and moved it to his mouth. He pushed her sticking fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. His tongue darted over the points that were sweet and creamy. He let go of her hand, and let her decide if her digits were to stay or leave, but he loved the feeling there in his mouth.

He reached with the napkin where the smear of chocolate lay on her chest. He took one, two swipes at it; the mess seemingly remaining moist from a layer of sweat running across her skin. It would have been enough, but not here and not today - and definitely with not how charged up he felt. He lifted the neckline of the dress as if trying to reach what may have slid further in and pushed the napkin underneath the denim.

“Almost got it,” he lied.

With his free hand, he reached over to help, and unfastened first one, then a second button at the top of the dress. It exposed much more of her freckle covered chest. As his napkin filled hand dared to go further, he couldn’t help but to feel how her chest heaved with breaths going deeper and deeper.

“So, do you have a boyfriend back home,” he tried to say as if they were still making believe they were in a common situation in need of a conversation.

As he did, he unbuttoned a third. This one was far enough down that it neared her navel. Yet he had no intention to suggest that he needed to wipe her clean where no donut surely ever went. Instead, he lifted the hand with the napkin in a way that dress slid more to the edge of her shoulder. It created space between the denim and her chest. At his angle he now could clearly see a single bare breast and topped with a aerola and nipple that begged like a ripe strawberry to be suckled.