There’s an automatic stiffening in your pants at the suggestion. Jessie may not look like a supermodel, but she’s appealing all the same. With her in the seat next to you, it’s easy to see the outline of her bra underneath the cotton of her tank top. And this is the fantasy, right? Hot car, hot girl…hot sex.
“What do you think?” you reply. “Of course.”
Jessie turns in the seat to face you more directly. Her eyes flicker from your face to your crotch and back again. You can almost see the wheels of her mind turning. Your cock gets harder. You can already almost feel her lips on you.
“Uh-huh,” Jessie says.
What happens next is so quick that it’s like a film running at fast-forward. One moment, Jessie’s looking at you, and the next she’s yanked something sharp and shiny out of the top of her boot. The girl lunges across the front seat. Sun glints off metal. She has a straight razor.
“Do I look like some kind of a fucking whore to you?” Jessie demands. You can feel the razor pressing against your throat, and the girl’s face is just inches from yours. She rips off the sunglasses you’re wearing, and you’re eyeball to eyeball with your worst nightmare: a pissed off, crazy hitchhiker with a weapon.
Jessie presses hard with the razor. You feel something warm trickle down your neck, but you’re not sure if it’s blood or sweat, and there’s no chance to check. “I asked you a question, cocksucker! Do I look like a whore to you?” |