Riding the Hitchhiker: A Erotica Short Story

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Or maybe it was something else that caused him to shiver. Back on the road, he accelerated to sixty-five, ten miles per hour beyond the limit. Surely no cop would care, there was virtually no traffic out here. The biggest problem he had was relearning to drive on the right side of the road.

It was ironic, really. He had to fight the impulse of swerving past the yellow line, into the other lane. He laughed. He normally liked the silence—he was able to come up with story ideas, ponder character motivation, enjoy the faint echo of his thoughts.

Hitchhiker (short drama) 1/2

He reached for the dial, then stopped. That was strange. How could the guy have gotten ahead of him in such a short span of time? Unless someone picked him up back there. That must have been it. But why would someone pick him up only to drop him off a few short miles down the road?

The hooded sweat jacket, coupled with the near-darkness, concealed his features. He might be a maniac for all Kyle knew, a madman with a collection of hunting knives in his duffel bag.

Then again, if someone had just picked him up, maybe he was harmless. And it was a chilly evening. And he was driving in the same direction the guy was headed. He was surprised as he slowed down, then came to a stop a few feet ahead of the hooded man. He had never picked up a hitchhiker in his life, and never thought he would. It was a foolish, dangerous thing to do, especially on a country road like this, in the November dark, with barely any traffic around.

And yet, something inside him seemed to urge him, tug at him, telling him to stop. Besides, there was a town just a couple of miles ahead. Surely he would reach it in time if the guy tried anything. Before he could second-guess himself and pull away, the passenger-side door opened, and the hooded figure hopped in. Kyle rubbed his chin with the palm of his hand.

As it was, he still had no clue about this guy—not where he wanted to go, not his name, not even what he looked like. For all Kyle knew, the guy seated next to him might have a scar raging along the entire length of his cheek. He might be wearing earrings or a necklace. He might have a head full of wavy hair, or be completely bald. There was no way to tell. He decided to just go with it.

The Hitchhiker

That feeling inside him, the instinct, if you wanted to call it that, which had made him pull over in the first place still urged him to drive this guy along. Not tonight, anyway. Tonight I head for the hotel on the other side of town. Against his better judgment, perhaps, but still believing it was something he was supposed to do for some reason, Kyle pulled back out into the road.

He did sound young. Still, what had he been doing, wandering along the roadside in the dusk? They drove along in silence, passing through the next town in less than a minute, then finding themselves back out in open country again.

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A deer suddenly darted in front of the Subaru, but Kyle braked in time. Nothing bolts out in front of you in London except people. He glanced at the young man beside him, still unable to see anything save for the side of his hood. Even so, there was something about him. They passed a green road sign with fluorescent white letters, telling them that the college was six miles ahead. And they want me to talk about how to succeed, how to define your dreams and then reach for them. Maybe you can attend. The hitchhiker just sat there, glancing out the window at the dark fields, the impenetrable shadows of the nighttime woods, the occasional farmhouse with its trusty porch light on, cutting a swath of brightness through the murk.

I just had a professor talk to me about that the other day. That was the reason Renee gave him. The hitchhiker just shook his head, as they drove on, nearing the college. He must have a girlfriend. What was it with these kids? He suddenly felt angry.

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How many great writers had never been published? How many literary masterpieces had never been written, because their would-be authors gave up too soon or failed to dedicate themselves to their calling? How much wasted talent existed, littering the earth like the confetti of a million unrealized dreams? When I was your age, I had a choice to make. Stay here, maybe settle down, have a steady job, a family.

Or come to terms with the fact that I had a gift, a responsibility to use that gift, to give it back to the world. I chose the latter. The hitchhiker offered no response. He just continued to glance out the window, then looked down at his lap. Kyle hoped his words were getting through. Yeah, tell him to live like you. Tell him to give up on the things that really matter. They were in the town now, and Kyle could see the campus lights straight ahead. He pulled in to the main parking lot, trying to quell the longing he felt.

How many times had he walked along the pathways and lawns of this campus with Renee beside him, their hands clasped, their fingers intertwined? The hitchhiker opened the passenger door, ready to get out. But what did it matter? There was a sadness in his gait as he walked away. Kyle blinked, took a deep breath. It all came clear to him now—why he felt such a need to stop, to pick up this particular hitchhiker. That was the only word his mind could construct. The writer, the wordsmith—all he could think was, No.

And Kyle knew that he would never return. That was very good! I enjoyed the suspence and the aching in his heart. It moved me. The Eye-Dancers Mar 20, Mary Mar 18, Very well developed and had me reading all the way through, good story — thanks for sharing. Enjoyed it a lot! Your prose is both easy to read and rich in detail. I liked the ending. Jackie Mar 19, Christy Birmingham Mar 19, We have to be ever careful of the choices that we make in life.

And sometimes at the moment we are making the choice, we think it is the best, but later on we find out it is not. The story flowed along very nicely. This is my second time reading it, and on the second reading I saw little details that said a lot to me. The ending of the story was somewhat mysterious, or it is just the way that my mind works — very nice ending although a bit sad, too.

Thank you so much for your thoughtful and insightful comments! Ah, that writer could be me…. The Eye-Dancers Mar 21, Thanks so much! The Eye-Dancers Mar 22, Thanks, Kat! Fantastic story Mike! I finally had some down-time to sit and truly enjoy this. You have a fantastic knack for weaving a great tale. Thanks so much, Lesley! Good story. I like the way you developed it. I could see from your description of the drive at the beginning how desolate the place seemed to the main character and why he left for greener pasture.

Nice ending. Your writing has given me reason to try again. The Eye-Dancers Mar 27, Thanks so much—that is a wonderful compliment. I hope you do try again. Angela Grant Apr 04, Michael, your writing is inspiring. I felt compelled to write that. That was a very nice story, I liked the ending which returned to the beginning and the moral of the story…very nice. One day I hope to write books…. He snaked a hand around her back and pulled her close.

As her eyes opened, his mouth claimed hers. She hesitated and tried to pull away, for a moment. But within seconds she yielded to his passion and melted into his arms. With one arm behind her, and one hand on her breast, his mouth sought hers, his tongue fenced with her tongue. Breathing noisily through their mouths, they sought, touched and withered against each other until Mason pushed her back on the seat and leaned over her.

His hands went to the metal button on her jeans. He undid the button and pulled down the zipper with practiced ease, while maintaining his withering kiss. Her hands seemed to be everywhere, stimulating his body as he had never felt before. As he yanked down her levis, he broke the kiss to look down at her pussy.

It was unbelievable. A small tuft of hair pointed the way to small, swollen lips which were about the size of a normal mouth. They bulged above her pelvis creating a small, delicate mound. Her legs and thighs were tiny and slender, perfectly shaped. The slight tan was absolutely beautiful. Do you eat pussy? He immediately slid back and leaned forward, with his massive body obscuring her tiny legs. He held her legs in his arms for a moment, licking his way up each one until he reached her shuddering inner thighs.

The view was absolutely unbelievable. He could never remember seeing such a beautiful little pussy, or such a perfect little ass. He moaned as he fell forward and took her entire pussy into his mouth. She gasped and arched up off the bed, filling his mouth with delectable pussy. He ate her honey sweet mound, while his hands filled with her tiny, tight little ass cheeks. He massaged them brutally, as his tongue explored her pussy lips. He loved her flavor, he loved the heat and aroma which assailed him.

Her tiny thighs felt soft and wonderful against his cheeks, clutching his face, holding it in place as he worked. He pushed his tongue into her vulva and tongue fucked her. Her legs sprang open and flew up, with her knees bent and open as if giving birth. He slid his thumbs into the valley of her ass, and squeezed each ass cheek, as his tongue searched inside her. She was such a sexy little thing, he thought as he watched her face go through many different expressions.

Mason slid his right thumb into her pussy, as he flailed away at her clit with his agile tongue. He lubricated his thumb well, then slid it into her asshole. She arched and gave a little scream, then seemed to heat up almost immediately. In no time at all she was ass fucking herself on his thumb, while his tongue probed her delicious pussy.

It was so damned erotic. He knew this would be the most memorable fuck of his life. She rubbed her pussy against his face, her ass clenched around his thumb, seemingly pulling it into herself. She gasped even louder several times ending in a long, loud scream of passion. She arched her back and shuddered, unmoving as he gently mouthed her spasming pussy. His mouth filled with her erotic juices. He swallowed and waited as she shuddered, then seemed to melt. He followed her pussy down to the bed, sucking gently without using his tongue, then lifted his mouth off her sexy flesh.

She gave little kitten cries as she relaxed, the perfect vision of a sexy little girl. He pushed one tiny leg up and pulled his thumb out of her ass. She screamed and surged up off the bed, then relaxed again. She was breathing heavily, with her eyes tightly closed.

Mason grabbed a box of baby wipes and pulled one out, to wash his dirty thumb. He watched her beautiful face, waiting for her reaction. He finally tossed the wipe into the trash and laid down beside her. Her eyes flew open and a smile crossed her face. Want a drink? What do you have? She looked inside with interest. He had a large assortment of beer and soda, plus a few store- bought sandwiches. He handed her a beer and opened one for himself.

She looked so damned cute in the light of the refrigerator, so he left the door open for a while. The cold air felt good on their sweaty faces. He rubbed the cold bottle on his face, then took a long swallow. She rubbed her bottle on her tiny breasts, then drank as well, with a sly teasing smile on her face. I also interest more than a few women. Men will fuck anything with a pussy, but women are far more discriminating. He saw the frown cross her cute little face.


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She nodded patiently, tipped her bottle up and finished it in five continuous swallows. She handed him the empty bottle with a smile. He quickly tried to finish his own beer, nearly drowning as he chocked. He stopped, gasping for breath, then finished it. He felt her hands fumbling at his waist. He knew that it was hard to find his belt, with his large overhanging belly. He leaned back and undid his own belt. She fumbled at his zipper and finally pulled his pants down with a strong yank. He watched in anticipation as she pulled down his pants and underwear.

He was embarssed by his fat body, but he badly wanted to fuck this cute girl. He enjoyed the hot flesh on his cock for several minutes, before her words penetrated his passion fogged brain. Visions of a dozen young girls filled his brain. He remember each one in minute detail. Their tiny, hairless mounds, their budding breasts, their sweet trusting faces.

The last had been his own step-daughter. He was torn between guilt and passion at the memory. His cock was sliding easily in and out of her hot mouth. He could feel her tongue exploring his cock, as her mouth slid up and down. The suction of her lips was almost brutal. With the vision of all those young, delicious girls in his mind, he felt his passion rising. Heat was building in his loins. Soon he would explode in an intolerable fire. He threw his head back and slammed into the refrigerator door.

She was looking into his eyes as the refrigerator light suddenly went out.


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  5. He froze in terror as her eyes took on a yellow glow in the darkness. Then, as if it had been a dream, they returned to normal.