Hot hitchhiker horror continued….

fresh-meat-1

Brad drove on into the scrub and the setting sun. He spotted the Athol Grove turn-off this time, and stuck to the road beyond there. It was getting on dusk when the small grading of gravel became two wheel tracks, then the trees closed in, and there was a huge bump before the 4WD bounced from the scrub to hit a broader, gravel road. They had landed directly across and needed to decide left or right. There was no sign.

“I think left,” Isabel said. She had buttoned her dress fully and was sitting properly in her seat with her seatbelt fastened.

Brad had not gotten it right all afternoon, so he decided her choice of directions was worth a try. The broad, smooth road entered a stand of pines where the shadows were deep and dark. There was a small stream to cross, and when the road emerged from the timber, there was a driveway to what looked like an abandoned service station. The building had a glass front section that could have been a café, and it had a dull, candy-striped awning. There was a house extending from the back. To the side was a large workshop with a faded, brown sign on top: Dalton’s Scrapyard.

“Hey, look—they’ve even got a cabin to rent,” Brad said as he pulled up in front of the awning. There was a large caravan and annex under a sprawling shade tree. It was brightly painted and had a small garden and neatly trimmed lawn.

He looked at Isabel. She still had the puppy eyes. He pulled her close and kissed her. “Should I ask if it’s available for the night?”

“If you want to,” she uttered softly. “You can have me anywhere you want… Or just take me home to keep.”

Brad kissed her again—hard.

An old man appeared, ambling from the side of the service station. There was a huge man behind him who hung back kind of bobbing his head and shoulders, trying to see who had come to visit, it seemed. The guy was massive with narrow shoulders and a barrel shaped abdomen and knees that touched with his boots wide apart and pigeon-toed inward. He was craning his neck, excitedly trying to see in the vehicle.

Brad lowered his window. “I have a tractor part here for Victor Turak of Dalton. Am I in the right place?”

“That’s me,” the old man replied, leaning down to look across at Isabel. He grinned. His breath was like petrol fumes. “You got my new ram? Been waiting long enough,” he went on gruffly.

“Sorry. It took some time to get on order. It was an older model that had to come from overseas apparently.” Brad showed the guy to the back of the 4WD. The part was in a metre-long wooden box that weighed enough that help had been needed to lift it in.

There was a delivery docket that the old man scribbled his signature on. “Boy!” he called out, and the bigger man approached, still bobbing his head and shoulders and eyeing the inside of the vehicle as he got close enough to see through the tinted windows. “Get that, Boy!” the older man commanded, and Boy lifted the box and tipped it up onto his shoulder with ease.

Brad’s height didn’t even reach the guys chin. He was the biggest human he had ever seen in real life. He had buck teeth and a broad, flat forehead. His eyes were small and set too close to his nose and far too deep into his skull. At that, he was also cross-eyed, Brad noticed. He lurched off around the corner of the building carrying the tractor part as if it were nothing.

“Mama’s got hot meatloaf and fresh coffee brewing,” the old man announced, slapping an arm around Brad’s shoulder as if he was suddenly a long-lost relative come to visit.

“No, thanks. We’ve already eaten!” Isabel announced just as forthrightly. She had gotten from the vehicle and stood on the side-step looking over the roof.

“We were wondering if the cabin was available for the night?” Brad asked. “We’re good for food and all, but it’s been a long day driving to find this place.”

The old man rubbed his chin. “That right, Girl? You want to stay the night?”

“Yes,” Isabel replied, kind of meekly that time.

“Just the one night, eh?” The old man included Brad in the question that time. He was grinning between the two of them and nodding his head.

“Yes. For just one night,” Isabel answered him. “That’s all—”

He chuckled. “Well, I suppose our fine cabin here is available for the night.” He had taken Brad by the shoulder again. His grip was of iron, and he was kneading a neck muscle with his thumb. “I think you young folks might find our cabin mighty comfy after a long day out on the road.”

“Very good. Do we sign in somewhere? I have cash,” Brad offered.

They were strolling toward the cabin. Isabel had taken Brad’s hand and was clinging to it. She kept him between her and the weird old man.

“Let’s worry about payment when you check out in the morning, eh?”

“Fine. Thank you.” Brad waved as the old man turned and ambled off. The big guy was back, but the old man turned him away and pushed him through a gate and closed it.

Isabel was already in the cabin somewhere. Brad heard her steps coming from deep within and returning to the open door where she appeared smiling broadly and looking at him with her puppy eyes.

“One second,” Brad said to her, and he quickly moved the 4WD over to the cabin, grabbed his bag and locked up.

The entry to the cabin was the annex section attached to the caravan. There was an open bathroom door with a toilet visible. Isabel was standing in a living area with her arms behind her back and her chest forward, still grinning as she was obviously waiting. Brad pointed to the toilet, and she nodded. He found that room to be surprisingly spotless. It was sparkling clean, and there was a fresh floral aroma in the air. There was a pile of fluffy towels on a stand beside the shower cubicle. There was a vanity with soaps and a mirrored cabinet stocked with a range of toiletries. It was well set up for any female occupants and had items for men as well.

“This is very clean,” he said to Isabel when he approached her sitting on a long blanketed couch. There was a polished wooden dining set and a fully equipped kitchen.

“Yes, it is very clean,” Isabel replied, standing and peering up at him. There were even fresh flowers in a vase on the bench.

Brad took Isabel’s hand and led her to the bedroom. He turned her to face him with her back to the bed. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. “It’s been years since I’ve been with someone so young and pretty,” he said to her. “Haven’t had much of this at all lately.”

“You can have me now,” she uttered softly. “You can have everything you’ve been thinking about today—however you want me,” she added sensually, looking directly into his eyes.

Brad’s penis firmed instantly. It lifted and hardened almost painfully at the look of her—at the slight parting of her lips and the total submission in her stare.

He claimed her. He lowered her to the bed and dropped on top of her, forcing her legs open with his thighs and grinding his bulge into her crotch during another deep, searching kiss. Her legs had fallen aside, and her arms had flopped above her head. She was twirling hair in her fingers as he knelt and ripped his shirt off. Her eyes widened as they caressed his chest, and she let out a tiny giggle.

Brad undid the buttons of her dress and opened it. He left it parted either side of her on the bed and looked at her breasts. They had goose-bumps, and her nipples were tight. He cupped both mounds and thumbed the firm little raspberries. She was watching his hands. She hummed softly as he bent to one nipple and sucked it into his mouth. He had to move down the bed to get at them, and he worked his jeans and shorts off and pulled her little, chequered panties from her legs while sucking from one nipple to the other.

He moved back to her lips and tasted them. Her legs had fallen open again, and he felt between them to find her very wet. Lowering down fully on top of her, he curled his hips, entering and surging up inside of her. She bit his lip, and her fingernails dug into his back. He withdrew then surged again, lifting her slender body and thrusting deep into it.

Brad kept the pretty young face in his hands so he could kiss those cherry-bomb lips at will. He supported his upper body on his elbows and cradled her head while humping with his lower body, building a steady rhythm. He had been aroused all day, so it was difficult to be controlled and patient. He wanted to just take her selfishly, and he could have. She was clinging to his back with those painted nails, but her legs were limp either side of his, and what he wanted—what he needed—was there for the taking.

Brad lost all control. A frenzy of powerful thrusts ended in a tremendous climax that had him crushing the slender young thing to his body and trying to fill her with the burst of ecstasy that exploded from within him.

When his climax abated, he held her face again, smoothing her hair aside and kissing her clumsily. “Oops—lost it a bit there.”

She took a breath under his weight. “That’s okay. It was nice.”

Brad was still firm inside of her. He withdrew and inserted again. Her eyes closed and slowly opened.

She grinned. “Come shower with me? We’re all sweaty now.”……

***

Hot sex and horror in the Aussie outback. Preview Fresh Meat on  Amazon US  Amazon UK  Amazon AU

fresh-meat

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