Chapter 1 - Mya Hunt

 

Mya arched her back and screamed into the blackness. The sound of her orgasm was immediately consumed by the empty desert. The desert rarely gave anything back even an echo. She didn't notice; she was howling from her second wave of contractions as her muscles knotted. The boy under her began to spasm in sympathy with her climax, unconsciously reaching for her tits which he squeezed with the mindless fury of an animal in extremis.

It was a private moment of abandon played out under the stars lasting perhaps five minutes. Mya, her contractions spent, finally collapsed on his chest and lay still as death. At some point she rolled over onto her back making a distinct pop as his cock exiting her vagina. She made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh. The blanket under her back was warm from the sand's heat but the night air was cool raining goose bumps on her front.

"You like being on top, right, Mya? It gets you off being in control, right?"

She turned her head towards the side. Davy, David G. Limon, was quite a catch according to her friends. He was handsome, in the Gary Cooper "High Noon" mold, and rich, the heir to his father's cattle ranch. He was a hero, the captain of the football team, and he was smart, at least by Bristol standards. He had it all...they said.

She turned fully on her side and rested her head on his outstretched arm, her cold nipples pressed up against his chest then she covered his balls with her hand. She didn't squeeze, she knew they would be tender for a while; she just wanted to be closer to his manhood.

"Yes, I do like it," she whispered. "I also like it when you're on top, Davy."

He murmured something then his body shuddered in a coital aftershock.

They both knew she was lying--she preferred to be on top. Yes, it was true he drove sometimes, but that was rare. They had been fucking on and off for a year, for their entire senior year of high school, and she could only remember him being on top twice. And both times he had ruined it by asking her midway-to-her-orgasm if she was okay. His gentlemanly behavior had killed it for her as effectively as having a pail of cold water dumped on them.

Sometimes she thought the real reason she had gone off to college in Sierra Vista was to find a boy who treated her differently...rougher. She was still looking. The truth was she enjoyed being "taken;" getting on top was her way of simulating that kind of behavior in the man.

"You been with other boys up there in Sierra Vista, Mya...?" he asked.

"I don't play around, Davy, you know that. We are a couple."

Lie...and fucking lie!

She had been at the Sierra Vista College of Animal Husbandry for only four months and she had already been with half-a-dozen other boys. They were all, she was sorry to say, better lovers than Davy, although none of them was completely satisfactory. They all lacked that secret ingredient, that "intense standoffishness." She couldn't really define what she wanted exactly, but she did know they didn't have it. Neither did Davy.

"Why don't you quit that school and come home, Mya. We could, ah, well get married maybe. Have some kids."

She knew he wasn't serious but she squeezed his balls softly anyway...with genuine affection. Davy was her first lover that counted for something. Not only was he was nice to her, he pretended they were equals. To many of the rich folk in the county she was literally nothing more than trash, white trash. She might look good, but to them she would always be garbage.

"Your daddy don't want you marrying the likes of me, Davy," she whispered. "Everyone knows he has got his eyes set on the McKendrik Ranch. That means you will be marrying Mary Ellen McKendrik or you'll be out on your ass."

"Fuck...you think I'm going to settle for Mary Ellen after I've had you? No way, no fucking way am I going to eat hamburger when I can have prime fillet."

She smiled in the dark. She knew he was trying to be kind given the moment. The combination of the Limon and the McKendrik ranches would create a spread of more than a thousand square miles. That was almost as big as the entire state of Rhode Island. The senior McKendrik, a dour man with a violent temper, wasn't going to abandon that dream so his son could fuck a better looking piece of ass...and neither was Davy going to give it up, no matter what he said.

If anything, Davy had some idea in his head that he could marry Mary Ellen and keep fucking her on the side. Lot of rich men in "advantageous" marriages ended up with a mistress. It was almost expected for a strong virile man to sleep around--but only with white trash like her or a Mexican. The rule was, never embarrass your wife or family by fucking someone of equal social standing.

In truth, she would be happy being his "white trash" mistress except for the fact that Davy didn't have what she wanted...needed in a man. At least that was what she thought right now. Maybe there were no men who men her ambiguous demands; maybe in the end she would end up with him; but for right now she wanted to keep looking.

She moved her mouth to his nipple and began to suck gently.

All other considerations aside, she needed to start being honest with herself--her only asset was her looks and perky personality; she needed to make the most of them while men were still buzzing around. That was the mistake her mother had made--she had gotten herself knocked up before latching onto a good man. Now she was screwed.

Fuck it! She rolled over onto his leg feeling his hard thigh muscle pushing against her clit. For all his deficiencies, she enjoyed his body. She enjoyed doing it in the desert where she could scream and howl as loudly as she wanted.

"You ready yet, Davy," she whispered, nibbling on his ear lobe. "I need to get home and get ready for tomorrow. My Mom and I are driving back to school... it's homecoming."

She pushed her knee into his balls and he groaned half in pain, half in pleasure. His nuts were still tender.

"Maybe you need more encouragement than my naked tits rubbing hard against your chest...more than my cunt rubbing against your leg...?"

He took the question literally and murmured, "Uh huh."

She knew exactly what he wanted and had no problem giving it to him. She slipped down his leg until his bare foot was pressing on her crotch then reached over and licked his shaft with hungry enthusiasm.

The effect was disappointing; he just groaned and churned his midsection. She wanted him to grab her hair and take control of her head, to push himself into her mouth, to...dominate. Instead he was laying back some kind of Roman emperor. She paused, sighed silently, then continued licking.

Davy was a decent fuck, but only for the first orgasm. After that he was content to "let her use his body but take only a minimal active role." It was bullshit. It was one of the reasons she was experimenting at school--playing the field. Life as Davy's mistress might be the best she could expect from life, but she knew it would be disappointing--a long series of single-shot play dates that were fine for him, but not so good for her.

She took his limp dick into her mouth and began to suck too hard on the head, acting the way she hoped he would act. She could feel some firmness returning but nothing spectacular. At least the other boys she had been with at school could go two or three times without punking out.

It was so damn frustrating; Davy was such a fucking pussy...!

Without thinking, she pushed herself off the ground and slapped his cock as hard as she could.

"COME ALIVE...FUCKER," she screamed.

He yelled and they both stopped and stared at each other, surprised and shocked by her kinky behavior. She glanced down at his cock. Incredibly, it was erect and throbbing. She looked back at him and smiled before going down on him again with her mouth. He suddenly turned her over, reversed direction, and began to fuck her in the mouth from above holding her down with his arms. His balls were banging hard against her eyes.

It was the first time she really understood the relationship between pain and pleasure. Later on the drive home, she huddled close to him, feeling safe in his demonstrated manliness.

Was this what she was missing?

 

***

 

"You need a new car, Amy," Doug said as he hooked up his oil-covered jumper cables to her battery.

No shit, she thought, smiling sweetly and nodding. Doug had a really bad habit of saying the obvious at the worst possible times. Of course she needed a new car, but this was all she could afford on a waitress' salary especially now that she was paying Mya's tuition at that fucking animal-college in Sierra Vista.

"This here battery's been recharged so many times there's a groove been worn in the posts."

"Uh huh..."

She stared at his tight ass as he bent over the engine. Doug was in great shape physically--he was a lineman for the power company; spent his entire day climbing up and down towers--but he wasn't much of a deep thinker. He was happy to stop by her shitty house after work, fuck her then drive off home whistling to himself. Sometimes he would spend the entire evening and say no more than 25 words. She actually felt bad for his wife; she was stuck with his taciturn personality for life unless the divorced. At least she could leave him whenever she wanted.

Sure, she needed a boyfriend, not the least of which for times like as these, but sometimes she felt like his toilet. There wasn't much more than that between them.

He stood up and waved her behind the wheel then gave the signal for her to try the engine. It started immediately. Maybe she was just his toilet, she thought, but who else in Bristol would come out at two in the morning to help her jump her car? Who...?

"You what to fuck now, Amy...?" he asked.

She stared at him for a minute through the window waiting for more then realized nothing more was coming. Doug wasn't one to waste words especially when it came to fucking.

"It's two o'clock in the morning, Doug..." she said quietly.

He stared at her with "So what?" written all over his face.

"...And Mya is home from school. I don't want her to get the wrong impression about us."

His expression didn't falter; his face was still asking "So what?"

He was probably right. They had fucked every day this week and Mya had been home some of those times. She must have heard, their rooms were separated by paper-thin wallboard walls. They surely didn't need to worry about her getting the wrong impression.

"Not only that," she added with faux-regret, "I've got to drive her back to school in the morning...early. I need to get a few hours sleep. You understand, lover, right?"

Doug shrugged his shoulders and looked back at his truck.

"You should get a new battery, Amy, if you're driving across the desert," he said turning back to her. "I can pick one up for you in the morning...if you want...my treat."

She shook her head, "No, thanks."

He was supporting a stay-at-home wife and two kids; he had even less disposable money than she did. The battery would be okay for a daytime trip. She would keep the engine running if there was no body nearby to give her a jump.

"Thanks, though" she said, touching his hand. "It will last a few more weeks. I'll replace it before winter..."

He shrugged and reached over to give her a good-night kiss. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth by way of thanks and he responded by reaching inside and grabbing her tit. For a moment she wavered on the decision to blow him off.

Doug was a formidable lover. It would be nice to feel him inside, she though, to have his hands on her tits, to suck on... She pushed him away more roughly than intended. He stepped back with a smile knowing exactly what had been on her mind.

"I need to get up early...Mya," she reminded him, slurring her words.

"Sure. I'll see you when you get back."

He climbed inside his truck then waited until she was on the road and headed home. She lived in a small house on the outskirts of town.

She was pissed when she turned into her driveway. The house was dark; Mya wasn't home. The little bitch was out with Davy Limon, her old boyfriend from high school. Was she fucking him? She wondered. Had she refused sex with Doug so Mya could fuck the Limon kid? What about leaving early to driving back to school? That was Mya's idea. She said she was the Haystack Queen, whatever that was, and needed to be there for the dance tomorrow night.

Fuck...! She thought banging the steering wheel with her hand. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

She fell asleep waiting for Mya...cursing her selfishness. Mya tip-toed in at 4:00 and slipped into her room undetected.

Amy would be pissed, but she would deal with her mom's craziness in the morning. For now she wanted to remember Davy holding her down and fucking her in the mouth. The deliciously dirty memory was still making her tremble.

 

***

 

One second they were flying at one-and-a-half miles a minute, the next great clouds of white smoke were billowing from the engine. Amy's first thought was fire and in panic she slammed her foot on the brake. The sudden deceleration sent Mya who was unbelted coloring her toenails flying into the windscreen. A moment later she was dumped unceremoniously onto the car's dirty floor.

"What the fuck...," she screamed in surprise.

Amy, her eyes still closed, felt the car skid to a stop on the shoulder.

"We're on fire! GET OUT!" she screamed.

Mya opened her mouth to swear at her again just as the word "fire" registered in her brain. She looked up at the smoke and scrambled over the seats pushing Amy down onto the roadway dirt. They both hurried to their feet and ran, desperate to avoid the coming explosion. But nothing happened--no explosion, no fire, nothing--just more billowing smoke. Eventually even that stopped and the strange hissing noise subsided. Mya hesitatingly stepped closer.

"It's steam, Mom, not a fire...!"

Her tone was the same know-it-all, teen-angry one she had been using all week.

"Steam...?" Amy repeated.

They gingerly approached the car then spent the next 20 minutes trying to find the hood release. The hose leak was still hissing when they finally managed to raise the hood.

"Will it still run?" Mya asked, annoyed. "You know you're going to make me late again."

Amy stared at her incredulously. This wasn't her fault... She had taken the detour because they needed to make up the time. Mya had slept until ten instead of getting up at six as they had planned.

She looked away and calmed herself. It wouldn't help to have them screaming at each other right now.

"Not only that," Mya persisted mercilessly, "But this fucking car is useless. Why haven't you gotten a new one yet? You are unbelievable!"

The girl was working herself into a genuine lather, Amy thought.

"If you spent less time fucking your boyfriends and more time at work or looking for a real husband, you could afford a new car. Why are you always fucking things up for us? Why...?"

WHY...! Amy turned to her, fists balled, seething.

"Shut the fuck up, you little brat," she screamed. "Instead of getting fucked last night by your rancher boyfriend maybe you should have stayed home and slept. I work, remember? Most of the time you sit around watching TV and talking on the phone...unless you are fucking someone, of course."

Mya was too angry to respond. She just starred in rage. So Amy doubled down.

"If you think he's going to marry you or something, Missy, you are going to be very disappointed. To him, you are fucking white trash, no matter what you look like. And you know what...HE'S RIGHT! That's exactly what you are."