Road Trip

Chapter One-1

Chapter One

I had spent the night at the Border Inn. It lies on the Utah – Nevada border. The room wasn’t bad, but the rib eye I had for dinner was better than average. Where in hell do you get an 18 ounce steak for 15 bucks these days? Certainly not back in New England.

After dinner I had lingered in the bar a little too long, so getting on the road very early this morning wasn’t too easy. There was a lot happening there last night. I shot pool with a bunch of locals and held the table for a couple of hours. I probably could have had that tiny little blond if I’d really wanted to, but she got talking with a couple of local guys and it sort of changed the complexion of things just a little.

So I turned in somewhere after two and woke up this morning with a pounding headache. But I guess all those shots of Jack and too many bottles of Sierra Nevada beer are responsible for that.

Before starting out I filled up my bike at the Phillips 66. It was the only gas station around, and once heading west they are few and far between. I was excited as I headed for my final destination – Lake Tahoe. It was a new life and a new adventure.

God, it was only eight o’clock in the morning, and it was already getting hot. Before long I cranked my right hand a little tighter and felt a rush of power as my motorcycle leaped forward, racing across the oven-like desert.

With the speedometer holding steady at about 80 or a little better the mile posts passed by in a blur. There was no one else on the highway. It was just me, all alone on what they’ve nicknamed Route 50, “the loneliest highway in America”. In 62 miles it held its reputation because from Baker to Ely I saw nothing but one worthless, mangy coyote dashing across the highway in front of me.

And then there was Ruth, a deserted ghost town. The guys at the bar told me a lot of stories about this town. Silver was discovered there by some early Pony Express riders. Some Chinese miners died in the mine because of a cave-in after discovering an evil spirit named Tak. The town is supposedly haunted, and their spirits have been seen crossing the highway and filtering in and out of the dilapidated buildings ever since.

They claimed that Stephen King’s book Desperation is based on Route 50 and the happenings around Ruth or Desperation as he calls it. They told me it even had a guy named Johnny who disappeared. His motorcycle was later found in some dry bushes off the side of the road. I guess it was a warning of sorts or maybe just a bunch of beer talk. Who knows? I never read the book or saw the movie, and I certainly don’t believe in ghosts.

So I decided to stop at Ruth and give my ass a little break. Maybe I’d look around a bit and then get back on the road.

“Ghosts,” I whispered, shaking my head.

I wandered around the rundown houses and decaying stores for a while before heading back up the dusty street to my bike. As I put on my helmet I looked down at my tank. In the thin layer of road grime and desert dust that covered my bike there was a definite mark. I looked closer. Right there as plain as day was a small hand print without a speck of dust or dirt in it.

There was nobody else around, and I hadn’t noticed it when I got off the bike just a few minutes ago. It was too obvious to have missed it. Carefully I looked around and wondered.

“That’s strange,” I said while swinging my leg over the seat. “Maybe there are ghosts around here after all.”

My engine roared to life once more as I headed on towards Tahoe. About 20 minutes had passed when I felt a slight skip and hesitation in my bike. I looked down at my tach and wondered what that was. Then it happened again.

“That’s funny,” I thought out loud. “I’ve come all this way from North Conway without a problem and now something strange is happening. Damn ghosts.”

The skipping and bucking repeated itself and with a few more spits and sputters the engine died.

“s**t!”

I pulled to the side of the road and put down the kick stand. “Now what the f**k do I do? I’m at least a hundred miles from anywhere.”

I looked into the gas tank but there was plenty of fuel.

“Hm…,” I mumbled as I cranked it over a couple of times. It wanted to start. But finally I gave up and leaned back against the seat. After a few minutes I pulled out my cell phone. Since there wasn’t a car or truck in sight and I sure wasn’t walking, I guess I’d call for help.

“s**t, no service. f*****g unbelievable.”

About fifteen minutes passed when I saw a car way off in the distance. It seemed forever until it finally got close. I stepped out into the highway to wave it down, but the driver never slowed down even the slightest bit. Hell, he never even looked in my direction. The i***t just raced on by, leaving me stranded beside the road in this God forsaken hole.

“Asshole!” I screamed while giving him the finger.

I reached into my saddlebag and got out a bottle of water and half-heartedly looked up into the sky to see if the buzzards were circling yet. Again I climbed on my bike and tried the ignition. Suddenly it started. It ran a little rough, but I decided to give it a try.

Yup, it ran for about two hundred yards before dying once more. I got off, kicked the dirt, stomped my foot and yelled “f**k” to the world. There wasn’t a tree for shade or a soul in sight. I was screwed until someone finally came along and stopped.

Probably fifteen minutes passed when I heard some motorcycles way off in the distance towards Ely. I knew I was saved as I heard that distinct sound of the Harleys approaching. No biker would ever leave another biker stranded without stopping to help. It’s their code. They got closer and closer, so I got up and waited.

I think they got by before even noticing me, but they soon stopped. The lead rider locked the front wheel and spun the bike around with the back tire smoking and spinning and roared up in front of me.

“Got trouble, fella?” she asked as she pulled off her tiny brain bucket.

Before me stood a beautiful long haired, big titted blond. She was wearing a black leather halter top, a pair of tiny leather shorts with black chaps to cover her long slender legs. Even in my desperate situation, I think my c**k came instantly up to half mast.

“Ah… ah… my motor quit. I was going along perfectly fine and then it just died.”

By then her two female companions had got back to us after turning around. They were dressed just as sexy with corsets and thongs exposed above one’s skin tight thigh-high boots and the other’s equally tight chaps. Holy f**k! A trio of Goddesses….

I could just make out what she said as the leader of the group turned to her friends.

“I’m surprised he even got this far.”

“What did you mean by that?” I asked a little sarcastically.

“You’re riding a piece of s**t Jap bike. That’s what I mean.”

Being slightly on the offensive, I responded. “Yeah, but it’s got more balls than any of your bikes.”

“Ha!” one of them said. “What is it?”

“1700 Warrior.”

“Well it may have more ccs, but it isn’t running too well right now, is it?”

Even with the slight confrontation I was obviously turned on by these three vixens. I wouldn’t have believed that anyone would ride a motorcycle being so scantily clad. Oh there was no doubt. They were hot, and the ever-growing bulge in my jeans was giving me away.

“What’s the matter, stud? Our leather attire got your little d**k all stirred up?”

I looked down and blushed a little, noticing the almost obscene outline of my hard c**k.

“Well, we’ll help you out with your bike, but you’d better get that little hot rod under control. Jenny will be along with the van in a few minutes, and we’ll take you to our place where we can work on it. That all right with you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. By the way, I’m sorry about this. It’s just you don’t often see bikers wearing that kind of leather.”

She just smiled and laughed while walking across the highway using her cell phone.

Before long a white, four-wheel drive Chevy panel van, jacked up with huge tires pulled up. Low and behold, the cute, sexy little blond from last night stepped out. She was dressed just as provocatively as the others in an extreme micro mini skirt and a tiny leather bikini top.

“Why hello there,” she said. “You disappeared rather suddenly last night. I was sort of hoping you would have hung around a little longer.”

“I would have, but you got talking with those other guys and I didn’t want any confrontations with those local cowboys.”

“Hell, they were ok. Besides I sleep with who I want, and it certainly wasn’t going to be one of them. But, you missed out, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess I did.”

“Ok you two. Let’s get his bike loaded, so we can get it in the garage and check it out. You can talk on the way out to the ranch unless you want to ride b***h on the back with me. Thing is, you might not like the way I like my f*****g. I like to play rough – real rough, if you know what I mean. Do you like your s*x rough or you a regular, vanilla type of guy?”

I didn’t answer her but continued loading my bike and fastening it down securely in the back of their van.

“Well?” she asked again.

“I don’t know, maybe a little rough. It all depends on what you have in mind.”

“Let me tell you right up front before you get any ideas. Not too many guys can take what I like to dish out,” she said with a burst of laughter.

Finally, the bike was loaded, and I climbed into the passenger seat of the van. As we headed back towards Utah, Jenny and I talked.

“So where you going?” she asked.

“Lake Tahoe. I plan on getting a job being a ski bum all winter. I’ve got a couple of buddies that do that out there.”

“How can you be a ski bum without any skis?”

“I shipped everything I’d need out to them a couple of weeks ago. I had an old pickup that probably wouldn’t have made the trip, so I sold it and headed out on my motorcycle.”

“What’d you do back east?”

“I taught Junior High English and History in North Conway, New Hampshire.”

“Why’d you leave that?”

“With the bad economy and budget cuts, they did away with my job. You know, low guy on the totem pole. I didn’t really like it anyway, so now I can do what I want in life.”

“I bet all those little girls had a crush on you. You’re quite a handsome dude.”

I just chuckled and blushed a little.

“Ever want to f**k one of them?”

“What?”

“It was a simple enough question, isn’t it? Did you ever want to f**k one of those young, sexy little teenagers?”

“No.”

“I bet some of them would wear little, short miniskirts and spread their legs a little so you could see their pretty little panties while you tried to teach. Did any of them ever do that? I bet it made you real hard, didn’t it?”

“You’re bad.”

“Oh come on. Girls develop a lot younger than they did years ago. Hell most of them are having s*x by the time they’re 12 or 13. I bet more than one of your students would have sucked your c**k and let you f**k them.”

“Well I didn’t, and I wouldn’t either. I’m not into little kids.”

“So what are you into?”

“Women like you.”

A smile came across her face as she quietly giggled.

“A woman like me? You don’t even know me. How do you know what I like?”

“I don’t know, but I bet you’re my type.”

“Do you like to eat p***y?”

“Boy, you don’t waste any words do you?”

“When I see something I want, I’m not bashful. So do you want to eat my little p***y or not, ‘cause I’m getting real horny just waiting for your tongue”

I grinned. “Yeah, I might do that a little later if you’re still interested.”