Riding Bitch (closed for Seranova)

The headlights sped off down the on ramp and away. As the tears fell down the cheeks of the girl standing on the curb of the rest stop, she clutched her small purse, a sick feeling came to her stomach. Not only did her so-called friends just leave her at a rest stop, but her cell phone was sitting in the back of the car, leaving her last hope for help probably miles away. They were laughing, probably making fun of her.

It was early in the morning, about 1 am. The group, with Molly, had decided to drive through the night to get to Florida for spring break. It would have been the first time Molly had really let loose. She had been to parties, drank a bit, even fooled around with a few guys, but nothing like the drunken hedonism of Spring Break.

Molly kept staring into the darkness, hoping the would turn around, ending the joke, collecting her and laughing it off. After 10 minutes, shivering slightly, she stepped back into the entrance of the rest stop, the slightly acrid scent of public bathroom filling her nose. This wasn't a popular highway, she thought, and it didn't seem like there was a big possibility of someone coming along until the morning.

She wished that she had worn jeans instead of a skirt, a sweatshirt instead of a tank top. She didn't have clothes, a phone, a ride. Nothing. The nearest town could be miles away, and the next traveler could be hours away. There was a vending machine that she could get a snack from, a drink from, but that help little to her sickened stomach.

She new regretted having these friends and agreeing to go to Spring Break with the temptation of parties, a shared hotel room, and a week of fun. Derek and Justin had been fun boys to party with, but now she could see their joking and pranks as more sinister, and they obviously preferred the much less intelligent and much more beautiful pair of Kelly and Tiffany. Dumb blondes to fit the stereotype, they laughed at nothing, and flashed their teeth and tits to get whatever they wanted. The shorter, rounder, auburn haired Molly was a good friend to everyone. Except to this group perhaps. Nice to a fault, Derek had said once.

She had wondered if they would abandon her on the trip, just using her for her share of the hotel room, but it was even worse than she feared. She was stuck in this run down building, until someone rescued her. The tears came rather suddenly again, and she sat down on the tiled floor, not bothering to pull her skirt under her bottom, so the cheeks exposed by her thong were nearly frozen on the floor. She didn't really care. the fear was so much more powerful. She didn't know what to do. She pulled at her short brown hair, always a nervous habit, praying that someone would come along to help.

With her head between her knees, crying, Molly thought about all the times that she found herself in this kind of situation. Taken advantage of, left out to dry by friends, having to get herself out of the situation. She always begged, prayed for someone to come along for help, a friend, a stranger, but never, ever had anyone rescued her. She felt now as though it would never happen.

The night carried quite a chill to the air, compounded by the speed of the deep, throaty motorcycle as it moved along the nearly deserted highway. The leather jacket that the rider wore protected against the buffet of the cold well enough, but the chill was ever present on his face and ears. It had been a long ride already, and he was only another fifty miles or so from his weekend cabin, but he wasn’t going to make it that far without stopping. He had to stretch and take a piss. It was a good thing that there was a rest stop coming up on the right. The bike rumbled towards the ramp and began to slow into the small parking lot.

When it came to a stop, heavy boots kicked the stand out and jean-covered legs swung over to dismount the powerful machine. Gloved hands adjusted the shiny leather jacket that covered his arms and chest, then unzipped it fully to allow himself the room to stretch. Arms reached straight out from his sides, revealing a simple white shirt as the jacket spread from the movement, and he groaned as his back arched. Once finished, he ran a gloved hand through his cropped dark hair and slowly strode towards the building, intent on relieving himself and relishing the freshly empty bladder.

John was in no way paying attention to any of his surroundings more than the path to the bathroom. He was dead set on the single goal, so he didn’t even see the girl sitting off to the side as he crossed the room and entered the men’s restroom. As he walked, he removed the gloves from his hands and shoved them into his jacket pocket.

He stepped in front of the urinal closest to the door and unzipped to fish himself out of the jeans and boxers, then stood staring at the wall. A loud sigh of relief passed his lips as it began, and his mind turned in distraction. It had been a long trip, as always. But just as every time, it was worth it.

His weekend cabin was his getaway. The pressures of a mundane life required some sort of reprieve, which he had found with the small cabin twenty miles off from the nearest highway or used road. It truly was out in the middle of nowhere. No cell phone service, no internet, no cable. A single land-line phone for emergencies was all that was available. And it was truly peaceful, there was no other way to describe it. Just the cabin, the woods, and nothing else for miles and miles. He had been truly lucky with the find, and even luckier with the asking price. And with just a bit more left in his trip, he would be arriving to celebrate an entire week off of work. His friends might even be riding out in a few says to join him. That part was still unknown.

Finished, he gave a shake, then pushed himself back in to pants and boxers before zipping up and flushing. A whistle passed his lips as he turned on the cold sink water and soaped up his hands, then rinsed them clean. He used his elbow to start the hand dryer. The man hated these things, but there wasn’t any other option in most places. once his hands were as dry as the blower would possibly get them, he strode back out into the main building, small though it was. It was then that he realized that he wasn’t alone.

There, seated on the cold tile ground, skirt hiked up a bit, pretty auburn hair, and a tank, was a girl. He gazed at her curiously, lips pursed in a bit of confusion as he glanced around, then back at her.

“You lost, girl?” He asked, genuinely confused as to how she had gotten here. There hadn’t been any cars in the lot outside, and he hadn’t heard anyone enter since he had. Where the fuck did she come from?

As he studied her, he realized that his eyes were starting to drift up legs and slightly hiked up skirt, and they snapped back to her face. She looked lost and terrified. He watched her, thinking for another few moments, then sighed and spoke once again. “Need a lift somewhere, girl?”

A man. A savior? Molly looked up as the man strode right past her into the men's bathroom. Her mind suddenly started to race. Should she ask him for help? Something in her mind warned her that she was a young college student, alone, lost, and putting faith in a strange man in a strange place wasn't the brightest thing to do. During the time that he was in the bathroom, she lowered her head back between her knees and thought.

If she didn't talk to him, ask for help, she would be left there, cold, shivering, hungry, alone for the rest of the night. Even when someone came along the next day, the risk of going to a stranger for help would still be there. She had to trust SOMEONE. Why not this man? She looked up as she heard the sound of boots on the tile floor approaching. Her eyes flicked out the door and saw his bike. A clean looking bike, a Harley or something similar, it seemed.

He was tall, good looking, and well dressed. She expected most biker men to be dirty, ponytailed, scruffy, but this man wasn't any of those things. That pulled down her defenses a bit.

“You lost, girl?”

There was a rumble in his voice, but it wasn't ominous. A little concern mixed in with a lot of exhaustion, it sounded to Molly. She looked up at him, studying his face, unable to speak for a moment. She didn't have words to explain just yet. She was tired too and that feeling was keeping her thoughts muddled.

“Need a lift somewhere, girl?”

His eyes had wandered, then Molly suddenly realized her legs were bare almost to the hip and she jumped up, smoothing down her skirt and blushing. She had trouble meeting his eye, and back against the wall, suddenly feeling trapped. The fear intensified, and so did the need to get out of the rest area, in any way possible.

"I, uh, well, my friends left me. We were on our way to Florida for spring break, and they pulled a prank, left me here. I only have my purse, not my phone. I'm all alone, scared. I don't know what to do." Her voice became pleading, as if asking for more than help, asking for a decision. She felt truly lost, and her tendency was always do things herself. She couldn't now, there wasn't an option, other than start walking in the dead of night. She didn't want to rescue herself again. She wanted a knight in shining armor. Or a leather jacket.

She brought her eyes up to meet his, and when he didn't respond, she whispered, almost to herself.

"Could I have a ride to... somewhere? I'll give you what cash I have. I just need a place to stay the night, the find a phone to try and get home. Please?" As she stood before him, the smell of leather came to her, along with a mixture of sweat and male. the boys she went to school with used so much body spray and product these days that she didn't really know what a man smelled like. This struck her quite strong, and she didn't dislike it. She had always loved the smell of leather. Her nostrils flared as she breathed in again.

She hadn't realized at that moment that she was shivering with cold, and her arms draw around herself reflexively. She stroked the goosebumps on her arms as she waited. A knot had formed in her stomach with the thought of staying in the chilly, smelly place all night. She hoped the despair didn't show too much on her face.

"I, uh, well, my friends left me. We were on our way to Florida for spring break, and they pulled a prank, left me here. I only have my purse, not my phone. I'm all alone, scared. I don't know what to do."

He listened as she spoke, a frown forming on his face while his brow furrowed slightly. Some friends they were, leaving her behind in a place like this. It was a wonder she hadn’t been taken away, mugged, beaten, raped, or just plain killed already. This wasn’t a part of the highway one wanted to be alone and defenseless on. Especially when one was such a small, young girl. Even he had a folding knife stashed in the side of his right boot. He tilted his head slightly as she continued, straining to hear the voice that had diminished in volume by quite a bit.

"Could I have a ride to... somewhere? I'll give you what cash I have. I just need a place to stay the night, the find a phone to try and get home. Please?"

The man pondered for a moment, considering several options and weighing possibilities. On the one hand, he could take her with him, and drop her off at the nearest diner or something, leave her to use the public phone and fend for herself. But that would take him nearly two hours back the other direction from his cabin. Four hours total added to his drive. He glanced at his watch for a moment. It was way too late, and he was way too tired for that. All he really wanted to do was get to his cabin and rest after the ride out here. Adding that much time would wreck the start to what was supposed to be a relaxing week.

The second option would be to simply wave her off for the next potential asshole to come through and have his way with her. He shook his head. Not really the best decision, no matter which way he looked at it. Trusting the wrong people didn’t mean that she deserved the worst consequences.

The last option was the only real viable one.

He stepped right up in front of the young girl and held out his hand expectantly. “My name is John. I’ll take you to my cabin, get you a place to crash for the night. Got a phone there, you can make your calls in the morning and I’ll take you somewhere to be picked up.” With that, he turned and started walking out of the small building, tossing a question over his shoulder as he did. “What’s your name, girl?”

Upon arrival to his bike, he flipped open the right saddle bag and dug around inside for several moments. Finally, his hand came back out, with a small rolled-up cotton blanket, which he tossed onto the seat. Another few moments of digging produced a half-squished sandwich, turkey with swiss, which he tossed on top of the blanket. After closing up the small pack, He picked up the items and held them out while he mounted the bike and started it up. The loud engine roared to life, and he sat for a moment, feet planted, while waiting for her to make her decision.

“You coming, or not?” His hand which held the blanket and ziplocked sandwich shook expectantly. “Hop on. Hurry up, or I leave your ass here to freeze.”

John didn't mention the possibility of the other dangers associated with her staying here. Not like this rest stop had any security cameras, or nightly patrols. Cops didn't care about this place.

Hop on. Hurry up, or I leave your ass here to freeze.”

Eyes staring at the sandwich and blanket, Molly murmured, "My name is Molly. Thank you, John. I really appreciate your help." She barely thought about the consequences as she rushed up, took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders like a cape, and devoured the sandwich in a few bites. She wasn't polite as she ate it, whimpering, and barely swallowing, she was so hungry. She needed something to drink, but the impatient sound of John's voice made her forget about going back into the get a drink of water from the fountain.

She climbed immediately over the back of the motorcycle seat and clutched blanket around her. She didn't know how best to warm herself with it, with the prospect of speeding down the highway to wherever their destination was. She regarded him for a moment, then watched as he climbed over the seat himself. She couldn't hold onto the blanket and his waist, as she needed to, so she put the blanket over her front, leaving her bottom and legs very exposed, and placed her hands around his waist. More sweat, more leather, more masculinity. It was a little overwhelming for her, but she closed her eyes, and try to block out the wind and speed she would be feeling.

As she clutched John, she started to cry. Despite being rescued by someone, she felt abandoned. To be picked up by a stranger, possibly a dangerous one was incredibly humiliating, and Molly silently promised herself that once she got back to school, she would never let herself get caught like this again. A gust of wind opened her eyes, and she whimper with cold, as her skin seemed to freeze. She needed warm clothes, and a shower. She hoped she would get both at John's, but she thought, rather ominously, that there was no way he would have clothes for a girl of her size.