Road Kill

Written by Steve Parry on Sunday, 01 September 2013. Posted in The Long Road To Hollywood

Chapter 2

Road Kill

Following the death of the little slut from Hollywood, I was riding on a natural high. You could say that everything had worked out pretty much the way it should have, because I didn’t mean to kill her, so it was only right that people saw it as a death by natural causes. Yet I must admit that I did feel like I had gotten one over on the world. I spent the next year and a half with a bit of a superiority complex, and it was hard to knock me off of my game. When people angered me, I would tell myself that they simply weren’t worth my time. I had killed a girl, and they were the kind of people who just sat there and took it when life was fucking them over. Sure, they would piss and moan, but they wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.

After about a year and a half of this, the natural high began to wear off. Within two years I had entered into depression. I was haunted by the image of the dead girl in my sleeper. I would fall asleep and dream of her laying there. Sometimes my mother would be laying in the bed with her, posing her body and laughing at me, but every time I was afraid to fuck the body that had beckoned to me from beyond just a few short years ago. In one of the dreams, the girl herself even taunted me. “Yeah, you’re a big man, aren’t you? Fucking a girl who’s unconscious. Why don’t you fuck me now, daddy? Fuck this little Hollywood whore. What, aren’t you attracted to me? You don’t think I’m pretty?” The vision of her haunted me day and night, and I eventually resorted to taking pills to knock me out and pills to keep me awake. By early summer of the second year, there was not a moment of my life that I was not on some type of drug.

How do we seem to you? Do you find us beautiful, magical? Our white skin, our fierce eyes? “Drink” you ask me, do you have any idea of the thing you will become? —Interview With A Vampire

I was sitting at a truck stop in Bangor Maine later that summer. I had picked up a load of seafood that was headed down to Texas, but I had all the time in the world to get the load there. I knew I had to do something about the drugs, so I decided that this would be the time to do it. Come hell or high water, I would fall asleep on my own and make it through the day in the same manner. I thought it to be a matter of will power, and for a few months after that trip I believed that it was, but I now know better. My salvation came to me in the same manner that the trouble had started… with a knock on the door.

I looked down and I had to do a double-take. Certainly this beautiful girl looking up at me was not a prostitute. I reached in my pocket just in case (in my state of mind I was lucky to know I had pants on, let alone money in the pocket) and I felt a wad of cash. I rolled the window down, and just as quickly as I had gotten the notion she dispelled it. The first words out of her mouth were “I’m not a hooker or anything…” and I had half a mind to roll the window back up. A girl who looked like that and wanted to sell me a 30 minute shot at it had my full attention, but when you just want a favor I could give two shits what you look like.

She was a bit of a timid girl, and she had trouble holding eye contact through our conversation. Here’s the long and short of it. She was running away from home. She was going to be 17 in 3 days, and her sister was attending the University of Oklahoma on a basketball scholarship (who knew a dame could get a free ride for playing a man’s game?) and she needed to get down there to where she was. She told me that when her family had made the trip to Oklahoma City to drop her off, she had met a guy who made her pussy tingle (my words, not hers) and she needed to get down there so he could stuff her cunt like it was a Thanksgiving turkey (mine again).

Well, this was just what the doctor ordered. I’m trying to get off the drugs, and what better to keep my mind off of them then this hot little chunker? She was about 5’5” and probably tipped the scales at around a buck eighty, but she had a set of tits on her that required something along the lines of scaffolding to support them. Her black hair hung around her face like it was afraid to block the view of her green eyes that smiled better than her fat little lips did, and all of this was playing out on the prettiest face I had ever seen on anything within a 5 mile radius of a truck stop. OKC, here we come.

By this time, I had gotten a new rig and I was working under the authority of a guy out of upstate New York. I felt like the king of the road pulling out of that truck stop and heading south down US 1 with the chrome on my ride enveloping us in a halo, as if to alert the passing towns to our arrival. I didn’t care how long it took us to get there, and with any kind of luck I was going to have this chick wrapped around my finger by the time we hit that Oklahoma line.

Some of you guys have no idea what a woman is really looking for. If there was one thing I knew, it was that. You ask a guy what a girl wants from a man, and you will hear a bunch of stupid shit like “honesty” or “respect” or “friendship”. That’s not what a girl wants. She wants value. Plain and simple, she wants some of what you have. You can breed birds around cats and vice versa, and eventually you will get a bird that is not afraid of a cat, and a cat that doesn’t try to eat the bird. Some actions from animals such as ourselves is a learned behavior that we pass on. After generations, it becomes an instinctual part of us, wired into what we now know as DNA. We can add to what is already there, but we cannot take away from it, or make bizarre, instant changes to it. Therefore, no matter how long you keep the bird that is born without a fear of cats, you cannot get him to see steak and eggs as food. That is a sudden, radical shift that he cannot process.

Going back to the time of the caveman, it has been the role of men to hunt and gather. Women were there to breed and nurture. If it were possible to have done so and survived, we would have evolved past the need for the female creatures, but we could not. As we advanced into social creatures, women began to try and find usefulness outside of the breeding roles. This is a slight shift as discussed with the cats and the birds. They took menial jobs or sought part time work in a field that was not too difficult. Their genes could handle this change. However, the feminist movement worked to convince women that they were as good at working and running businesses as men are. This is a radical shift, much like a bird eating steak and eggs. While you will find individual rarities within the species that can handle this shift, the species as a whole cannot survive it. Women are programed to breed and nurture, thus nature has relegated them to the role of mother, nurse, cook, or prostitute. When she leaves that role to run a business or even a Country, the family suffers as it loses the nurturing and the entity that she runs suffers at the hands of second rate leadership.

We could have avoided the societal breakdown that we see today if we had realized early on that all women want is some of our value. They want to be told that they are intelligent, and have their opinions heard, and be treated as if their ideas matter. One would be an idiot to actually give weight to the thoughts and ideas of a woman, but would it kill us to pretend? This way she feels smart, she shuts her yap and goes back to the kitchen or the hospital or the whore house, and everybody wins. Having this basic understanding of women and how they work gives me a bit of an edge. Don’t believe me? I had that bitch eating out of my hand by the time we hit the Massachusetts line. 5 miles before, as a matter of fact. She marked the occasion by saying “I feel like I have known you my whole life”. By the time we got to Hartford, she decided it was way too hot in my truck, and wanted to know if I would be offended if she took her shirt off.

So there we were cruising through Connecticut, with me trying to focus on the road while that set of double d’s were trying to bust through that lacy purple bra every time we hit a bump. All it took was a little bit of effort, pretending that her observations were brilliant and that her life was interesting. I even feigned a genuine interest in her emotions, as if they somehow were deep and original. I even dropped “Girls like you are so hard to find anymore” on that little slut, and I could see her heart melting right through those pretty green eyes. By the time we stopped for the night, the vision of the dead body laying in my sleeper was so far from my mind I would have had to rack my brain to dig it back up.

We had a nice little dinner together, and I have to admit I was starting to dig the way this girl made me feel. The cocky attitude was back, and the depression was a distant memory. When we got back to the truck, I didn’t even have to ask where I stood. When I leaned across the seat and looked her in the eye, she leaned into me with her eyes closed and her mouth puckered, awaiting a kiss that seemed like it would never end. She was so warm, and her mouth tasted like pure unbridled lust. My spirits lifted higher with each passing minute, as if I were some kind of vampire taking her energy out through her mouth. When we finally finished and headed back to the sleeper, she was so wet I could feel it through her jeans as she bent over to climb on the bed.

When a skinny girl strips down, the clothes seem to fall right off of her. But when a chubby girl gets naked, it’s like unwrapping a present. I didn’t have to tell her to take her clothes off, and I stood back and watched as she stripped down to her bra. She looked at me as if for approval before removing her panties, and I nodded.

There was no foreplay that night. Since the Hollywood slut incident, nearly 3 years had past and I would be lying if I said I had gotten laid more than 4 or 5 times. I hadn’t had any since the drug use had ramped up, and my cock was trying to split itself open in anticipation as I lost my jeans and climbed on top of her.

I don’t know how many guys she had been with, but she was prepared. She lifted her arms straight up and pulled me down to her, kissing me passionately on the mouth and neck as I ground my cock against her pussy. She raised her legs up, pushing her fat thighs against my sides and pulling my hips towards her. She would let out a slight gasp as my dick slid over her cunt hole, and the sweetest moan when the head would rub against her clit. She was so wet that I didn’t even have to reach down there to guide my meat inside of her. She let out the sexiest “Oh” I had ever heard as I slowly pushed myself all the way into her sopping fuck hole.

Looking down at that beautiful face as it contorted with varying degrees of pleasure was a very memorable experience. She had left her bra on, but I was dying to see those massive melons, so she lifted up on her elbows to allow me to undo the clasp. I was careful to fumble a bit with it so she wouldn’t think I had done this a lot, although at this point I don’t suppose it would have mattered. Her massive tits were graced with large, pink nipples that seemed to slowly fade into existence. As I sucked on them, they grew firm and erect in my mouth. Her pussy was so flooded that I could feel the skin of my balls sticking ever so gently against her ass each time I pulled back for another dive into her sweet smelling snatch. The aroma of sex was so thick in the truck that it was intoxicating, and that combined with the slow and steady rhythm of the head of my cock against her G spot sent her exploding into an orgasm all over my dick. She came so hard that I could feel her juices oozing out around me as I pushed deep inside of her, and soon my nuts were so wet that they were making a distinctive slapping noise against her plump ass.

And what an ass it was. I had never been with a big girl before, but when she turned over and raised to her knees so I could fuck her like a bitch in heat, I saw what made some guys get turned on by these porkers. I grabbed a hold of her shit pillows and squeezed them tightly with my hands as I began fucking her harder. Her moaning was heavy now, and the truck was rocking so good that it began to creak in rhythm with her audible pleasure. Her cunt juice was thick on the inside of her thighs, and I sopped it up with my fingers to moisten them before sticking two of them into her ass. I thought she might protest, but she screamed “Oh, fuck yea!” as I began working them in and out of her. And when I pulled my dick out to slide it up to her turd cutter, she lowered her back to welcome me in.

I had never seen a girl cum from getting fucked in the ass before. I had never seen a squirting orgasm either. I got two for the price of one that night, and her asshole pulled so tight around my meat as her pussy muscles folded and relaxed in the hypnotic rhythm of her pleasure that I couldn’t contain myself any longer. I began to cum inside of her sewer pipe just as I felt the spray of her fuck explosion hit my thighs. She pulled her knees together as her body racked in spasms of pleasure, lifting her ass high against me as I was draining my load. I leaned my stomach against her fat ass cheeks and arched my back, pushing deep inside of her until my balls were completely drained.

I didn’t realize how much she had turned me on earlier that day until I began to feel the old, familiar onset of blueballs kicking in as I laid beside her. It’s a rare occasion, but sometimes a girl can get you so worked up that the phenomenon occurs even after you fuck. I laid there beside her, her head resting on my shoulder and her huge breasts enveloping my side. In that moment in time, everything was right with the world.

The next night we stopped and took a shower, not that I really wanted to. As sweet as her pussy had smelled the night before, it had begun to sour a bit during the day but I liked it. The heat of the truck made the air thick, and it was permeated with the smell of yesterdays sex. I was like a dope fiend wanting another hit at the pipe. I was surprised at how angry I got when she denied me the opportunity to eat out her sloppy fuck pit, but I was able to conceal it once I fought back the urge to punch her fucking teeth in. She hadn’t seemed at all shy once getting to know me, and her sudden self consciousness was unbecoming. Where I had considered keeping her around for awhile the night before, my mind instantly shifted gears like a trucker topping an 8% grade and I began to think of how I would ditch her. It didn’t even help when she came out of the shower wearing an OU shirt that had no prayer of containing her voluptuous figure. Her huge breasts perched at the top of the v neck like a desperate pair of twins about to leap from a bridge in completion of a suicide pact. In those days, the showers were all in the men’s room at the truck stops, and even the hoots and whistles of the other drivers as she walked through didn’t lift my spirits.

We fucked again that night, but I couldn’t begin to tell you what all we did or how many times. She had sucked the fucking fun right out of it, and the demons had started to creep back into my head, pulling me back towards depression.

That night I had the worst of the dreams yet. I dreamed that I was sitting in the drivers seat smoking a joint as the little angel from Maine slept in the back. I was lost in thought as a knock on the door startled me, but it was less of a scare than looking down and seeing the piercing dead eyes of my little Hollywood slut looking up at me. “If you just hear me out, I will leave you alone” she said, as if the things that had happened between us were long forgotten.

I slid over into the passenger seat, and reached across to let her in. She climbed up and sat down without saying a word, turning her body towards the Sooner slut sleeping peacefully in the back. My gaze followed hers against my will. “This is your chance”, she whispered to me, our heads just inches apart as we looked in on the sleeping beauty. “This is your chance to set things right. Stop living in fear. Corpse fuck that little slut.”

I snapped out of my dream and shot straight up in the bed, startling my fuck buddy awake. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at me, smiling wide. “Good morning, Baby” she said, running her hand down my chest all the way to my shaft that was rock hard in the warm morning air. “Someone’s happy to see me, aren’t they?”

There are few things in this life more rejuvenating than a good morning fuck. The smell of day old sex filled the air as I dumped my morning wood load in her sloppy cunt. She moaned her usual symphony of love, laying with her hair spread across the pillow, her back arched up off the bed and her eyes closed. All I could think about was what it would be like to fuck her dead body. Something inside me knew that I had made a deal with my inner demon that morning, and eventually I would taste the forbidden fruit. Not now, but when the time was right I would.

As it turned out, the time would never be right with her. We made it to Oklahoma, and we stopped in Big Cabin to spend the night before heading down to the City where I was originally supposed to drop her off. The impending end of our little fling hung thick in the air like a 300 pound gorilla looming up on the hood that neither one of us wanted to act like we saw. At some point, she suggested that we take a walk. It was a beautiful night, and it seemed like a romantic thing to do, so we set off hand in hand down the shoulder of highway 69. The sun was setting the sky afire off to the west, and she frankly could not have chosen a better time to reach into the pocket of the jeans that clung so tightly to her full figure and pull out the note that she handed me. While the first line is an exact quote, the rest is pretty close to what it said, the best that I can recall.

Your heart feeds my soul, and it would starve to death without you. My love burns me inside, and I need you to contain the fire. When you are inside me, we are one against the world. Don’t leave me alone and broken. I love you. Don’t kill me without your love.

I had made no plans of keeping the girl around, yet the openness and desperation of the note actually struck a chord with me. I thought about how it would not be the worst thing in the world to have her around. I started to sincerely think about it as we walked. We made it all the way down to the first overpass, and walked up the hill to the adjoining road to cross the bridge and head back. The sun had just lost it’s daily battle with the forces of nature, and only the scars of a few bright pink clouds hung in the blackened sky to tell the story of the fight.

Halfway across the bridge, I stopped abruptly and pulled her to me. I began to kiss her passionately as her ass settled up against the guardrail atop the bridge. She caressed my face with her hands as we shared our passion. Her forehead pushed against mine to get the separation she needed to utter the words “Will you keep me?”. I looked down in the darkness and pushed the note back into her pocket. I said only one word. “Forever”.

She pulled me back to her, and again I tasted the lust in her sexy mouth. The image of that night is forever engrained in my head. Her eyes were closed in passion, her skin pulled tightly against her forehead as she focused all her energy on massaging my tongue with hers. As I reached my hands up under the shirt that clung so tightly to her body, I wondered if she noticed how the excitement was making them tremble. As I struggled to reach up under the bra, she reached her arms behind her to undo the clasp. The bra popped off her tits like a recap blowing off of a trailer tire. She kept her arms behind her back, allowing me to have my way with her. My hands found a firm grip on the sweaty skin that arched up from her chest at the chance to be a part of her magnificent breasts. The night was perfect, and my timing was impeccable as I gave a hard push up underneath her breasts. I heard the crunch of metal and glass before the sound of 18 tires squealing across the pavement reached my ears from the other side of the bridge. She hadn’t even had a chance to scream.

As I walked past the wreck I was pleased to see that not an ounce of her had hit the ground. Her body laid sprawled out across the badly dented hood, and her head had split open as it crashed through the passenger window of the Peterbilt. The driver was in such a state of panic and shock that he didn’t even see me walking by. I could hear his desperate cries for help growing fainter in the distance as I walked. When I neared the truck stop, I heard the distinctive sound of an ambulance siren as it turned down 69. “No need to hurry” I thought to myself. It was curtains for Sooner Slut.

About the Author

Steve Parry

Steve Parry

Steve Parry is an Independent Contractor with Prime Inc, and a lover of books and writing. These are his stories based on the trucking industry. All writings here are fictional, and are original works of the author. If you enjoy them, feel free to leave a comment and let him know. You may share these stories with your friends and family. You may publish excerpts from these stories with a link back to the article on the site here and with a credit to the author. Republishing of these stories in their entirety is prohibited.

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