L J Murphy

Their wild vacation

CHAPTER ONE

God, he was bored.

He could tell already that this trip was going to be a big, fat mistake. He swore softly under his breath. Why had, he let Doris talk him into spending his vacation driving across the country? She thought it would be romantic.

Romantic. That was the trouble with Doris. She was never satisfied. He kept her well-fucked, but she wanted more. She wanted to own him, that was what she wanted. They were good together. Why wasn't that enough for her? It was for him. Steve Bradley glanced at the woman sitting in the passenger's seat of his jazzy red Mustang.

Doris Coleman was thirty; two years younger than Steve. But with her short cap of curls and big wide eyes in a still-unlined face she could pass for twenty-five easily. And she still had the body of a teenager. Her cone-shaped boobs with the little pink nipples were really too small for his taste, but they were firm and high, and not yet droopy. And even though she was barely five foot tall she had long, lithe legs that met in a curly brown bush that hid one of the sweetest pussies he'd ever had the pleasure of sinking his cock into. It was nice and tight, like a silk-lined glove.

He felt his dick start to tighten against the faded softness of his jeans. Just thinking about her pussy gave him a hard-on. If he'd stayed home like he'd wanted to, he could be banging away inside her sweet tunnel of love right now, instead of wasting his time driving down some God-forsaken freeway to nowhere. The desire welling up in him and his mouth feel tight and dry. He gripped the steering wheel a little harder and tried to concentrate on the road.

His glance strayed sideways again. He could see the curve of one breast in her skimpy halter top. She was leaning against the door with her boobs pushed together; it made her look like she was stacked. She shifted a bit in her seat and he caught a glimpse of the darker circles that ringed the small pink nipples that stood to attention when he nibbed or kissed them.

This was getting him nowhere. It was only 2:30. Four more hours till they'd reach their stopping point for the night, a little town in West Virginia called Clayburn Court House. Doris had wanted to stop there because she thought it sounded "cute". Christ, he didn't think he could wait four more hours. His cock was throbbing now, making an obvious bulge in his pants. Maybe she would notice, and give him a hand job in the car. It would be better than nothing.

But she wasn't paying any attention to him. She was reading some movie-star magazine, seemingly oblivious to his hungry eyes on her body, or the urgent message his jutting dick was sending her way.

Steve noticed a sign pointing the way to a truck stop and rest area up ahead. Maybe a cup of coffee would help him take his mind off her match. He decided to pull off.

"Where we goin', Steve? We can't be anywhere near Clayburn yet." Doris sounded annoyed. She folded her magazine and shoved it into the huge straw purse she carried everywhere. He found himself wishing she wouldn't talk, just look nice and smell good and be there with her legs spread wide when he wanted her. That was all he needed to make himself happy.

"I'm tired of driving. Thought I'd stop and get a cup of coffee. Stretch my legs. You mind?" His deep voice had a rough edge to it. Why did she have to whine so much? He wished he'd never let her talk him into moving into the one-bedroom apartment she rented over the laundromat where he took his wash. That was how they'd met actually; they'd shared the last available dryer one night several months ago, and afterwards she'd asked him up to her place for a drink. One thing had led to another and here they were. Thank God he hadn't let her talk him into getting married. He'd steered clear of that trap, at least.

She didn't bother to reply, but instead allowed her breath to escape in a little sigh that managed to sound both hurt and reproachful. She turned away from him to look out the window.

There was no one else at the truck stop. He went in and ordered two coffees to go. He swore under his breath when the pimply-faced girl behind the counter said, "Fifty cents, Mister." A crummy dump this, and the coffee was twenty-five cents a cup. Shit!

By the time he started back toward the car his hard-on had gone down. Wordlessly he handed her one of the cups of coffee.

"Aw, Steve, you know I'd rather have a Coke. Why'd you get me coffee? It's too hot to drink coffee today." When she whined the down-turned corners of her mouth pulled all the prettiness from her face.

"So don't drink it if you don't want it. I was just trying to do something nice for you. Stick it up your ass for all I care. I'm going to drink mine in peace." He slammed the car door and strode over to a big old oak tree with a velvety patch of grass at its base.

The coffee wasn't even good. Even with sugar and cream it was still bitter. Just like Doris. She was pissed off he wouldn't marry her, but why should he? He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with her. Right now he didn't think there was a broad on earth he'd want to spend the rest of his life with.

He set the unfinished cup of coffee down on the ground and leaned back against the wide trunk of the tree. He thought about jacking off, but he wasn't really in the mood. He wanted the teal stuff. He closed his eyes and let his thoughts wander to some of the women he'd had.

Next thing he knew Doris was bending aver him, whispering something in his ear. He shook his head groggily. He must have fallen asleep. She was brushing his shoulder with one of her tits as she talked; he could feel the nipple hardening through the thin fabric of her top.

"I said I'm sorry I snapped at you. I came to apologize. You going to accept my apology or not, lover?" She was smiling down at him, one hand twined in his thick dark hair. "Come here, sugar, and let me think it over." He pulled her down next to him and ran one hand inside her halter. He rubbed her pink nipple between two big fingers, and felt it now even harder in his hands. She moaned softly, letting her head fall back on his well-muscled shoulder.

He started to unbutton her top. "Not here Steven, somebody might see," she protested feebly. But she made no move to stop his roving fingers.

"I don't give a fuck," he said, freeing her other breast. "When the hell has that ever stopped me? Remember the night we did it on top of the washing machine in the laundromat while that little old lady was working crossword puzzles up front? Shit, she never suspected a thing!"

He bent to kiss her tit; it was so small he felt like he could swallow it whole. She tasted good, like baby powder. He began slowly licking and kissing the rosy skin that ringed her nipple. She moaned again, and squirmed in his arms. One of her hands started to rub across the bulge that had reappeared in his pants. Her hips started to rotate slowly, her pelvis pushing up at him.

He stopped kissing her titty and fastened his mouth over hers, silencing her protests with his probing tongue. Her legs were twitching faster now, and he moved his free hand down between them, reaching two fingers up inside the leg of her shorts till he found her pussy. It was all wet and warm; he could feel her sticky love juices on his fingers. He probed till he found her clit; it was already swollen to a hard little knob that quivered in his hand as he stroked it. She cried out, and began fumbling urgently with his zipper.

He didn't stop to help her, but kept massaging her cunt. He wanted her to get good and hot. He wanted her to want it bad, worse than he did. He drove one finger deep inside her, aggravated at the resistance offered by her shorts. Impatiently he withdrew his hand and tugged at her zipper. With one swift tug he yanked her shorts down around her ankles. She kicked them free and spread her legs wide to his searching fingers.

Her eyes were closed, and the curly hair of her bush glistened wetly in the sunlight. He spread the lips of her honey pot, till he could see the bright pink petals of the inner lips, and her little round love knob. Slowly he started to massage her clit, gently flicking it back and forth, back and forth, till she was moaning and writhing on the soft green grass.

Finally she tuned open his fly and freed his bulging dick from his pants. It was hard as a rock now, and thick, with the veins standing out against the brown-pink skin of his tool like a miniature road map.

He yanked his jeans off and tossed them aside. His finger was moving even faster now, back and forth and in and out. She grabbed his cock in one hand and started frantically pulling at it, running her hand up and down the thick pulsing shaft. Her fingers found his balls, and started gently tickling them.

When he couldn't wait any longer, and she was begging him to do it, he took his hand away long enough to spread out her legs, and then mounted her. Her head twisted from side to side as she guided his dick into her warmly waiting snatch.

He pushed himself inside her tight, hot hole, thrusting deeper and deeper till his cock was buried up to his balls. She wrapped her long slender legs around him as he began pumping it to her, slowly at first and then faster and faster. Her cunt felt hot and slippery as it wrapped itself around his thrusting tool. Her heels dug into his back as she arched even higher, pushing her pussy up at him with a frantic rhythm that matched his own and set his balls gently thumping against her ass.

With one hand he massaged one of her titties while his tongue snaked in and out of her mouth and his cock kept up its frantic assault on her pussy. He could feel his come starting to build, and he pumped away even harder. She began to moan and whimper just before he exploded inside her, shooting his load into her wildly contracting cunt. She shivered and shook in a climax of her own as his hot stream of cum filled her gyrating, writhing cunt.

Finally he rolled off her, and they lay panting side by side on the soft cushion of fresh green pass. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad trip after all.

CHAPTER TWO

Back on the mad again, Steve felt good. The urgent ache in his balls had been replaced by a warm contented glow. Whatever her other faults, Doris was sure a damn good lay.

Doris sat with her magazine open on her lap, but she wasn't reading it. She was staring dreamily out the window, humming to herself as she watched the big, cotton-candy clouds go scudding across a postcard-blue sky.

Steve always made her forget everything when he fucked her. Every time she promised herself that the next time she would play it cool, act disinterested, make him beg for it. Rut when his big hands started fondling her breasts to tickling her clit, she could never think of anything but how good it felt, and how much she wanted to be fucked.

She shifted slightly in her seat, and felt some of his sticky wet cum dampen her rumpled shorts. He really shot a load! No matter how much she mopped up she could never seem to get it all. But today she didn't mind. Everything felt good.

She wished she felt sure of Steve. He was so unpredictable; she never knew what he was going to do next. She wasn't a teenager any more. She thought it would be nice to settle down. But Steve refused to even talk about marriage. Oh, well, she'd gotten him to move in with her, at least. That had to mean something.

She'd just have to play it by ear and bide her time. And keep giving him pussy whenever he wanted it. He'd come around one of these days; she just knew it.

She turned from the window to study his profile as he drove down the freeway toward Clayburn Court House. He bandied the spirited link car expertly, the same way he handled women. She liked the way his dark hair curled back off his broad forehead. It wasn't long, but it was nice and thick. His nose was a little too long, and marred by a bump in the middle where he'd broken it in a fight. Strangely enough, to Doris Steve's bumpy nose made him even more attractive. He had nice brown eyes and a strong, square chin. Doris guessed most women would rind him handsome, in a rugged sort of way.

Her eyes traveled downward, past his broad shoulder and brawny forearms, to his trim waist with no hint of a paunch, and on to best part of him she really liked best. Even though she knew his cock was soft now, it still made a good-sized mound in his jeans. Doris loved Steve's dick; it was so thick and hard she almost choked on it when she tried sucking him off. He filled her snatch better than anyone she'd ever fucked.

Doris kept daydreaming as the miles slipped by. She scarcely saw the rolling green countryside they were passing through. She was remembering some of the crazy times and places and ways they'd screwed. Like that night they'd done it in the bleachers at a football game, hiding themselves under a big, plaid stadium blanket. Or that day he'd fucked her while she was on the phone, talking to her mother, for chrissakes. He'd finger-fucked her and then eaten her pussy while she was trying to listen to her mother complaining about her assorted aches and pains. He'd made her come again and again, and her mother had kept asking her if there was something wrong, she sounded so funny.

It was six-thirty by the time Steve pulled off the freeway onto the exit marked "Clayburn Court House". It was hot for late June, and the sun was still bright in the sky. Steve looked around him as he cruised down the ramp, but all he saw was a herd of bored-looking cows placidly chewing on their dinner.

He turned right at the intersection, following an road that pointed the way toward town. He drove by a few scattered farmhouses that all looked kind of tired, like they needed a good coat of paint. Finally he found himself driving down a dusty main street lined with rows of clapboard houses, and the usual assortment of bars, greasy spoons and small mom-and-pop stores. He couldn't see any sign of the Clayburn Court Motel where they were supposed to stay. He looked over at Doris. She was leaning back against the headrest, her eyes closed, one hand curled in her crotch. She must have fallen asleep.

Steve spotted two teenage girls walking aimlessly down the street the way kids do when they don't have anyplace particular to go, but just want to walk around and see what's happening. They walked like they knew that all the guys had their eyes fastened on their long brown legs and twitching butts, and didn't mind a bit.

One was blonde, with twin pigtails jouncing over full round breasts with every step. Her delicious little ass was outlined in the tight denim shorts that were cut off just under her cheeks. Steve had stopped the car, and she must have felt his eyes on her, because she turned and whispered something to her companion, who looked quickly over her shoulder and giggled.

She had brown hair cut very short that fell around her pixie-like face in gentle waves. She was slimmer than the blonde, with a smaller, tighter ass, sleekly enclosed in white shorts. Her boobs weren't quite so big either, but Steve could see more of them because he was wearing a low-cut halter top that tied between her tits and seemed to push them up and out. The parts of her tits Steve could see were as tanned as her long legs. Steve found himself wondering whether she sunbathed in the nude.

He felt his dick starting to come to life again in his pants and reached down and surreptitiously shifted himself to the other side, where his zipper wouldn't dig into his growing hardness.

Steve rolled down the window and called out to the girls, who had stopped in front of a drugstore window right across the street. "Excuse me, Miss," he called, motioning the girls toward the car.

They giggled and looked at him with frank interest, but neither of them made a move to cross the street. As far as Steve could tell, Doris was still asleep. He opened the car door as quietly as he could and stepped out onto the street.

The girls seemed surprised to see him coming toward them; for a moment it looked as if they were going to walk away. But the dark-haired one whispered something to the blonde, who shook her head vigorously back and forth, and they stayed where they were.

Up close they looked younger than Steve had first thought. They couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen at the most. But there was nothing childish about their bodies, or the practiced way the instinctively posed themselves for his inspection.

"I hope I didn't frighten you, yelling at you from my car like that," Steve asked them.

"Oh, you didn't frighten us none, Mister, did he now, Maybella?" The blonde one shook her pigtails vigorously and nudged her companion. Steve couldn't take his eyes off her full bouncing breasts that kept time with her swinging hair.

The dark-haired girl looked shyly up at Steve through lowered lashes. The expression on her face was positively angelic, but Steve noticed how she angled her body so that her cleavage jutted up at him.

"Well, we don't see none too many strangers hereabouts, Mister. Seems like hardly nobody ever comes through this old town. Don't see why nobody's want to, neither. Mary Anne and me thought maybe you was tryin' to get fresh. We ain't supposed to talk to strangers." She lowered her eyes again and hugged herself with tanned bare arms, making her breasts pop out even further. Steven was sure that any minute now he would see the dark, rosy beginnings of a nipple poking out of her halter.

The remark about him getting fresh took Steve by surprise till he glanced over his shoulder and realized that the girls couldn't see Doris, who was slumped down out of sight. And if they hadn't seen her, she certainly hadn't seen them. His eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded the girls with renewed interest.

The blonde was making circles in the dust with her bare toe; Steve noticed her toenails were painted bright pink. The dark-haired one just stood watching him.

"The truth of the matter is, I got myself good and lost. I'm looking for the Clayburn Court Motel. Friend of mine told me it was a good place to stop for the night." He couldn't decide whether to watch the blonde's twitching ass or the dark-haired girl's thrusting boobs. He tried to watch them both.

"You just passin' through, then?" blonde-haired Mary Anne asked.

"Yes. Just passing through. Need a place to stay for the night." Steve was beginning to wish once more that Doris was back home alone.

"Motel's all right. It's just up the road a piece. My pa and ma run it. Show you the way if you like." Maybella uncrossed her arms and her breasts separated slightly. They looked bier, somehow, when they weren't scrunched together like that. Steve could feel his cock gradually getting harder. He wondered if either of the girls had noticed.

"Now, I wouldn't want your folks to get the wrong idea. Suppose you just point me in the right direction. Maybe I can treat you to a soda or something after I get checked in. Both of you, of course." Steve tore his eyes from Maybella's breasts and focused them on Mary Anne's scrumptious ass.

"You're right. Daddy might not like it if we was to come in with you. He'd got a dirty mind, always getting queer ideas. How bout if we come by for you after you get settled?" Maybella's rosebud lips curved up in an inviting smile. Mary Anne nodded in agreement.

"Tell you what. Why don't I meet you somewhere instead?" Steve asked casually.

"Ain't nowhere to meet round here if you don't want the whole town to know what you're doin'. Some old biddy's most likely callin' up Daddy right now to tell him we was talkin' to a strange man. But we make up the beds at the motel. Maybe we could do your room last, so's we'd have some time to… talk. He won't miss us none, then." Maybella sounded suddenly practical. Steve wondered if she'd done this sort of thing before.

"Yeah, we can have a nice talk," giggled Mary Anne, looking up at him. She was swaying slightly, as if keeping time to music no one else could hear. Steve could see the ripe swelling of her love mound under the frayed denim cut-off's.

"Well, then, why don't you two come by about nine or so. I ought to be unpacked and all by then," Steve replied. Fuck Doris. He would think of something. He wasn't letting pussy like this get away.

"Motel's just down the road, 'bout a mile outside of town. You can't miss it…" Mary Anne stopped swaying long enough to point vaguely in the direction he'd been heading.

"We'll see you tonight, then," promised Maybella. "C'mon, Mary Anne, we'd best be getting back or ma'll be hollerin' about havin' to do dinner by herself again, and we'll never hear the end of it." She gave Steve one long last look before the two of them started walking again. They were no longer dawdling, Steve observed with a big grin spreading across his face.

Those two little asses wiggling their way down the street made such a sweet picture Steve was tempted to stand there and watch them out of sight, but he decided not to push his luck. No telling when Doris would wake up.

He turned and walked back to the car, closing the door as quietly as he could. Doris stirred slightly but didn't open her eyes. He was lucky she was such a heavy sleeper. He smiled, thinking about what was in store for him, and pointed the car in the direction of the motel.

Clayburn Court Motel looked like a million other motels Steve had stayed in or driven by. Rows of little units, all painted a depressing gray-green. The neon sign proudly announced T.V.'s in every room.

Steve left Doris still sleeping in the car and went in to register. He supposed the burly, middle-aged man chewing a fist-sized wad of tobacco who shoved a fly-specked register at him was "Pa". He registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Steve Bradley and took the key that the man pushed across the desk to him. Friendly sort, Steve thought as he went back out to the car. Steve decided to stay out of his way. He didn't need that kind of trouble.

Doris finally woke up when he parked in front of their cabin and purposely slammed the door getting out of the car. She rubbed her eyes and got out of the car, yawning and stretching her arms over her head, pushing her breasts against the front of her halter. But Steve wasn't watching; he was thinking about Mary Anne and Maybella.

"Didn't mean to fall asleep," she said, scratching her ass as she followed him into the room. "Did I miss anything?"

"Naw. Just a little hick town. So much for romantic names. I'm gonna take a shower. Why don't you unpack?"

When he came out of the shower Doris had changed into a skirt and blouse. She was all ready to go to dinner. He finally convinced her to go by herself, pleading that he was too tired to even move after spending all day on the road.

CHAPTER THREE

He was still wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist when he opened the door to Mary Anne and Maybella not more than five minutes after Doris had driven off in the direction of town.

"I see you ain't dressed to go out," giggled Mary Anne, shutting the door behind them.

"I guess you could say I'm dressed to go in," replied Steve with a grin.