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. But that’s fantasy. This is reality.
“Of course not!” you say, a trifle nervously. “I mean, come on!”
“Yeah,” Jessie says flatly. “I can do it good, though. I could pop your top like a soda bottle without even trying. How do you think I got this far? From walking?”
Jessie doesn’t wait for an answer, and laughs at her own joke. She regards you for a moment longer, her expression unreadable, and then looks away. She lifts her hat long enough to wipe her sweaty brow with the back of an arm. “Well, let’s get a move on, huh? How far you going, anyway?”
All right, so perhaps there are good reasons why people shouldn’t pick up hitchhikers. But Jessie doesn’t seem crazy, just a little quirky. Even so, you’re not sure if you want her to know exactly where you’re headed. You just met, after all. |