[Patreon Exclusive] ONLY GIRLS GET A RIDE: Chapter 3 (Patreon)

Chapter 3

I decided to stay near that long driveway, in case my plan failed completely and I didn’t end up catching a ride. Attempting to hike to town was a recipe for disaster. At least with the old, abandoned house, there was a bed to sleep on. I could probably find some berries in the woods around the property and, at the very worst, I could drink the water out of toilet tank. I cringed at the thought. Sucking a guy off suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad option.

I was only out on the side of the highway for about fifteen minutes when I felt the rumbling of an approaching truck. My heart began to race. I felt a lump forming in my throat. My hand was shaking as I raised it up, sticking my thumb into the air. I was really going to do it—I was really going to pretend to be a woman to get a ride.

A big truck came around the bend. Moments after its headlights landed on me, it began to slow down. It was really going to stop for me. My heart was now pounding with intensity. A little voice in the back of my head kept saying, ‘It’s not too late to turn around,’ but I ignored it. I didn’t want to drink water from the tank of an old toilet, and I didn’t want to end up eating a poisonous berry in a failed attempt to find nourishment. It was all or nothing.

The truck stopped right next to me and the trucker rolled down his window. And then I realized I had no voice. I didn’t practise a voice. “Where you headed?” the burly, bearded man asked, and I just stood there, frozen, regret swirling in my head. “Miss?”

I knew I had two options: turn around and walk away—sure, he would think I was a lunatic, but it wouldn’t matter as soon as he pulled away and never saw me again—or, I could attempt a girl’s voice with literally zero practise. What could it hurt? If I tried the voice and it didn’t work, I could always turn away, or run if I felt I pissed him off. But why would it piss him off? If anything, it would make for a funny story later that night, when he was sitting at the bar with the other truckers. ‘Can you believe this guy dressed like a chick tried to get a ride today?’

The real danger was if the voice passed, and I got the ride, and I went through with the road-head, and then he found me out—if he found out he got a blowjob from a man. Then he might be enraged. Then he might do something about it. But in terms of trying out the voice, what did I have to lose? “I’m going to Grand Junction,” I said quietly, softly, in a high-pitched voice (but not too high-pitched).

He smiled. “I’m heading that way. Might be able to give you a ride,” he said. Before he finished talking, I knew what he wanted. He wanted a little something for the convenience—he wanted the road-head. That lump in my throat grew double in size and then the thought of drinking toilet water came back to me. “Not really supposed to pick up hitchhikers. It’s against company rules and whatnot,” he said.

My hands were shaking and my head was spinning. ‘It’s not too late to turn around,’ that voice in my head said again. “I’ll make it worth your while,” I said in that forced female voice.

A grin came across his face. “Hop in,” he said, leaning over the passenger seat and pushing open the door. It was a miracle I didn’t pass out. I’m not sure there was any oxygen getting to my brain. I felt sick. I knew that I was locked in as soon as I got up into that cab. I knew that, if I made one slip, he wouldn’t be happy. I didn’t want to end up as a corpse in the ditch, somewhere off the I-70 in Utah. I got into the truck and closed the door.

“What’s your name?” he said as he started to drive.

“Fey,” I said, picking the very first name that came to mind.

“Pretty name for a pretty lady,” he said, looking at me and smiling. He had a nice, genuine smile, which helped me relax just a bit. “What are you doing way out here, in the middle of nowhere?”

“Visiting an old friend’s cabin,” I said. I was doing my best to get control over my breathing, to calm my nerves. How bad could it be? Girls did it all the time without complaining. Hell, most of the girls that I’d ever picked up seemed to enjoy it. “How far are we from Grand Junction?” I asked.

“About forty miles,” he said. I couldn’t believe it—forty miles? I’d thought I was way closer than that. It was a good thing I finally got a ride. I would have died trying to hike that with my lousy ankle.

It became silent in the cab. “What’s your name?” I asked.

“Andrew.” I noticed Andrew wasn’t driving very fast, taking corners especially slow, not quite getting his truck up to the posted speed limit. He was buying time. He wanted to get the most out of our time together, before we reached Grand Junction. I noticed he didn’t have his seatbelt on, which I assumed was because he didn’t want anything more between me and his cock than necessary.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment, thinking back to all of the times ladies came into my cab and gave me a little bit of road action. It always started with a gentle rub, over the clothes. Then, the girl would do away with my belt, unzipping my fly. Then she would get me nice and hard, and not until then would she lean over the seat and start the real work. Andrew was now waiting for the rub.

So, after a deep breath, I reached over. The space between us felt suddenly enormous, like it took eternity to reach from my side of the cab to his crotch. So many thoughts went through my head along the way, most of which were begging me to reconsider, to think of some other way to get back to civilization. I ignored them all, and placed my hand on his cock. He let out a deep sigh, his shoulders relaxing. He spread his legs open. He kept his eyes on the road, which was for the best. I didn’t need him taking a closer look at my face, noticing the slight bulge of my Adam’s apple.

I could feel his bulge hardening, pulsing, wanting out of its denim prison. I knew that the sooner I got it all over with, the better, but bringing myself to the next step was hard. It took me forever to build up the confidence to undo his belt, and forever more to unzip his fly. “Relax, darling,” he said, and I realized he was looking at me. I must have been as white as a ghost.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never done this before,” I said, and he smiled.

“You’re doing fine, beautiful,” he said. Beautiful—that resonated with me. Not only did I apparently pass as a woman, but I was a beautiful woman? I reached into his fly and my fingers slipped around the bare, warm flesh of his cock. He was big and he was already hard. With a nudge, I pulled his cock out, and it declared its freedom with a swift slap against his abdomen. There it was—the big, throbbing cock I was about to suck. I ran my shaking hand up its length. Was I really going to do it? What did I have to lose? I’d already come this far. “You’re doing just great, honey,” he said.

I unclipped my seatbelt and I repositioned myself with my knees planted on my seat. Carefully, I bent over, getting closer and closer to his cock. It looked even bigger up close, with my lips just inches away from its pulsing girth. “Go ahead, baby. Suck it.” I took it in my hand again, and then I gently brought the bulging tip to my lips. It was all or nothing. I sunk it into my mouth.

It really wasn’t as bad as I’d dreaded. The way it throbbed on my tongue, all warm and hard, actually felt kind of comforting in a strange kind of way. There was something very satisfying about the way it slid in and out of my lips so effortlessly, and the way it sat cradled on my wet tongue. There was even something strangely comforting about the way his hand clasped the back of my head and brought me down, sinking his cock deeper into my mouth.

I could hear him moaning. Apparently I was doing something right. It wasn’t long before I could taste the sweet tinge of his pre-cum. I fondled his balls with my free hand (the one that wasn’t supporting my body weight as I hovered across that cab). “That’s it, baby. That’s how you suck a fucking dick,” he said. The throbbing of his member became more intense and I knew I was getting close to victory. But strangely, something inside of me didn’t want the moment to end. I don’t know that I can explain the feeling—maybe it was the satisfaction in knowing I was the highlight of his day. Or maybe it was part of my malnourished state of delusion.

He squeezed a handful of my wig and began to groan loudly. He was going to come. And if I wasn’t careful, he wasn’t going to pull my wig right off. If I pulled away, I’d be leaving my wig behind, so it was looking like I was stuck taking his hot load in my mouth. And I did.

He came. His hot, sticky cum filled my mouth, and I didn’t pull back. I took shot after shot, gagging only slightly as he pushed my head down, forcing his massive dick down my throat. I swallowed. And a moment later, he released me, his cheeks red with a big grin on his face. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a man look so satisfied as Andrew was in my life.

And I was satisfied with myself. I’d done it—I’d fooled a man into thinking I was a woman and I was on my way back to civilization where I would have a real bed and clean water and warm food.