On The Road To Crooked Jaw

[Published in Scared To Death]

Any town, any place would do for Dan. He just needed to quit Dangerville for a while. Especially after what happened with Melissa.
She looked real cute in her blue and white gingham dress, good enough to eat almost. And after six Budweisers he had been ready to do just that. Casey's bar was packed with people all having a good time. Melissa's eyes were big and bright, and he gazed into them as they left to go home. Arm in arm, they sauntered through the streets, laughing and joking and kissing now and then. Once they reached her doorstep, he didn't want to leave. His balls were aching for her so much he felt like they were going to burst.
"Come on in, Ma and Pa ain't home yet."
He almost whooped with delight at her invitation. How could he refuse an offer like that? He followed her into the kitchen, and was greeted by the smell of biscuits, remnants of her Ma's baking scattered over the table. He grabbed her from behind, cupping her tits through the dress.
"Hold on there, Dan," she giggled. "Let's get in first." She snatched his hand and guided him into the den. His dick was alert and ready even then. The drapes were open, and she swept them shut to close out the stars and the moonlight. There was a rickety couch against the wall, and their bodies were lured towards it. They collapsed on to the cushions, and Dan's tongue leapt into her mouth, his hands wandering everywhere.
"Hot bitch," he gasped, withdrawing for a moment. She just laughed. She was as intoxicated as he was. He sucked at her neck. Her blonde hair was shot through with dark streaks, and he ruffled it with his spare hand.
"Jeez, Dan. You're some animal!"
I haven't even started yet, he thought. He felt he deserved some action after what had occurred in Casey's. He had performed his knight in shining armour act when he spied Joey Murdock pawing Melissa, his attentions obviously unwelcome. Dan had produced a switchblade and gifted Joey with a brand new scar across his cheek. The bar staff didn't give a shit, they knew all about Dan's fearsome reputation. No way did they wish for the same treatment Joey had received.
Dan's hand journeyed up her dress, and found the flesh of her ass. Then, in one swift movement, he swept her panties down over her cheeks and her legs. Hell, he'd had plenty of practice. He tossed them on to the carpet. Then he splayed her thighs.
"Well, whaddya know? A natural blonde!" He ducked his head, and encountered the pissy odour of her fanny. The hair was matted and glistening with sweat. He parted her lips, and licked from bottom to top. She was well juiced, and ready for it. He started to unbuckle his belt.
"Be quick, Dan. Before Pa gets home."
He unzipped himself, and produced his engorged cock, which bobbed around as he steadied himself for entry. His bulbous head nudged her lips, then he plunged inside. Nice and easy. Heck, she really was ready for it. He began to ball her pussy. This is so good, he thought, and with all the groaning Melissa's doing, she's loving it more than I am. He hoped her Pa didn't come home then, once his dick was in there was no way he was going to pull out!
He sensed climax time. He withdrew before he came, then his wad exploded over Melissa's thigh. He didn't want any little Dans running around town calling him Daddy. He caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, a stream of cum hanging from the tip of his dick. He stood, and captured the loose jism in his boxers as he pulled them up. He planned to take a shower and change when he got home so he didn't give a fuck.
"You sure know how to ball, Dan."
He smiled. Then the door sprung open, and her Pa appeared. His face was like thunder.
"You son-of-a-bitch!" he yelled, before darting into the hall to grab a hold of one of his shotguns. Any guy caught messing with his precious daughter was in for a hard time. Dan didn't stay for the fireworks. He dashed through the kitchen doorway and sprinted across the yard. Blasts from the shotgun followed him, but fortunately none of them connected.

Thinking back, he was sure he'd made the right decision to leave town. Just until the dust settled. Melissa's Pa was prone to chasing guys with his shotgun, and he didn't wish to be picking pellets from his ass. He wasn't going to let the old guy get away with it though, retribution was on his mind even then. He knew that some nights her Pa staggered home after getting drunk on Jim Beam, and was often discovered pissing in some alley. He didn't intend harming him, just to frighten the shit out of the old fucker by way of a switchblade under his nose. Dan snickered at the thought. The doctors had often warned Dan about his vicious temperament, but up to now he had refused to heed the advice. This is a violent world we live in, he thought, and no fucker was going to get the better of him. The experts had even diagnosed some type of mental disorder, which explained his apparent short fuse and the nasty streak that at times emerged from within his brain. Dan didn't believe any of that. To him it was nothing more than bullshit.
He cursed the fact that his truck was off the road, sitting in Logan's garage waiting for a water pump. He hitched a ride from old Frank Tucker. What he was doing taking trash out to Dragon Valley at that time of night was his own business, but Dan was grateful that he was.
He dropped him off at the interstate. The night was cool as he waited for another lift, and even in the darkness he could see for miles along the highway. Jeez, he reckoned he could see all the way to fucking Europe from there. He peered the other way. The Crazy Mountains stood elegant and majestic in the light of the moon, peaks jutting skywards to kiss the night clouds. A faint sound buzzed in his ears. He glanced to his left, and saw lights heading his way. A ride.

"I'm going to Crooked Jaw," said the driver.
"That's cool."
"You'll have to get in the back though. I've got groceries here. From the 7-Eleven. A little midnight shopping!"
Dan chuckled as he hopped into the back of the Chevrolet, and he smelled cheap booze and cigarettes. Then he remembered. Shit, I left my smokes at Casey's. He conjured up an image of a pack of Marlboro resting on the bar next to the empty glasses and ash trays. He'd been in such a hurry to screw Melissa he'd forgotten them. Still, that was the least of his problems.
"The name's Troy. What's yours?"
"Dan." He studied the driver from behind, catching his reflection in the rear view mirror. He must have been around twenty years old, with a brown goatee and piercing hazel eyes. He sported a red and black lumberjack shirt and denim dungarees, and judging by the stench from his clothing Dan guessed he was into farm work in a big way.
"Crooked Jaw okay for ya, Dan?"
"Fine. Any place will do for me."
"Not running from the law, are ya?"
Dan laughed. "Hell, no. Chick trouble."
"Hey, man, I've been there myself. Listen, I'm leaking gas a mite. It's nothing serious, we'll get to Crooked Jaw. Just hang on tight."
Dan relaxed in his seat. He was itching for a smoke. The battered Chevy bumped along the gravel as they approached the Crazies. The vehicle crept up the incline to the mountain roads, slowly and with great difficulty. However, once the track had steadied out things got easier. The saloon snaked around the twisted roads until they reached the other side. As they descended, Dan admired the cluster of pines that spread across the side of the mountains. They lined the route almost all the way to Crooked Jaw. The road levelled out again as they left the Crazies behind, and the Chevy scooted along the track, its wheels spraying gravel all ways. Troy was strangely quiet during the journey. His haunting eyes kept glaring at Dan through the mirror, but he ignored it, sitting back to take in the ride. It seemed quite spooky travelling through the pine avenue that led to Crooked Jaw. The massive trees on both sides appeared to encapture the darkness. Only the saloon's headlights prevented total blackness. They carried on for about a minute when Troy interrupted the silence.
"Look at that. A chick thumbing a ride."
Dan's eyes reacted. He spotted the girl standing next to the pines ahead of them, her figure pale in the darkness. Troy stopped the Chevy and leaned out of the open window to speak to her.
"Wanna ride, honey?"
"Sure do."
"Hop in the back then."
She did so, and Troy zoomed off again. Dan studied her as she adjusted her position in the seat beside him. He reckoned she was eighteen or nineteen, and she had long dark hair in a pony tail. She was buxom, rather like a Robert Crumb cartoon figure. Slab thighs, shoulders like a linebacker, giant tits, square jaw. Kind of appealing, if you like them that way, he thought. Hell, I'd give her one myself if I had the chance.
"What do they call ya, honey?" asked Troy.
"Sally Jo."
"Cute. I'm Troy, and this here's Dan."
The girl looked sideways at Dan with a shy smile. She was wearing white sneakers and cut-off denims, revealing her chunky legs which were covered in goosebumps. The white blouse she had on was sleeveless and tied up below her bust, and Dan spied the huge love handles hanging over her denim shorts.
"Dan here's hitching too, Sally Jo," said Troy. "He's running from a chick. Can ya believe it?"
Dan interjected. "That ain't strictly true. It's her Pa I'm running from."
"Is that so?"
"Yeh. He caught us together... you know..."
"Balling?"
"Yeh. The old man went ape-shit. I had to hightail outta town. He chased me across the yard with his shotgun. The crazy old coot."
Sally Jo chuckled, large dimples appearing on her cheeks. Her blue eyes seemed to be shining, incandescent in the gloom of the Chevy. Dan noticed Troy's beady eyes in the mirror again.
"So what's your story, Sally Jo? How come you're hitching at this time of night?" said Troy.
She hesitated. "I had a fight with my boyfriend." A slight pause. "We were coming back from Blossom Meadow and the guy just dumped me here."
Dan looked her way. She didn't sound very convincing. He reckoned there was more to it than that. He knew all about Blossom Meadow, the place where all the young lovers went to make out. They travelled in silence for a while, the giant pines appearing to close in on them from both sides as the saloon sped along the road. He spotted Troy's eyes peering Sally Jo's way through the mirror. He detected some kind of craziness in there. Then suddenly Troy slammed his boot on the brake and stopped the car. They were miles from nowhere, the only sound coming from night insects whirring in the undergrowth.
"What's the problem, Troy?" asked Dan.
Troy didn't reply. He reached into the glove compartment and produced a pistol, then he turned in his seat and pointed it in Sally Jo's direction. The silver gleamed in the dimness. The girl seemed petrified. Dan froze in his seat.
"Okay, bitch. Get them clothes off." Troy's voice was as cold as the night chill. The girl was steadfast though. "No way!" The words came out all shaky.
There was a loud click as Troy cocked the pistol. "I ain't joking, bitch. Off with the clothes, or ya get a hole in the head."
Dan was astonished. He thought all along that there was something weird about the guy but he couldn't be certain what it was. He watched as Sally Jo was forced to undress. She slipped out of the blouse, exposing her pale flesh to the moonlight. Her tits swung free when she took off her bra. They were fucking enormous, with nipples the size of coffee coasters. Her broad back was displayed as she bent to untie her shoe laces.
"It don't matter about the sneakers," said Troy. His eyes bugged out upon seeing Sally Jo's jugs. The pistol was still trained on the girl.
She pulled the shorts down and off. Her discarded clothing she placed beside her on the seat. Just her briefs to go. She glanced up at Troy.
"C'mon, bitch. Off! All the way," he demanded.
Dan wondered what the crazy guy intended to do once Sally Jo was eventually naked. He felt his dick stirring in his jeans as she peeled her panties over her thighs. He cursed his libido. This was no way to seduce a chick. Troy was evil, and he didn't want any part of the action.
The panties joined the rest of her clothes on the seat. Troy leered at the dark triangle between her plump thighs. He leched over her tits. The girl shivered in the cold. Dan felt sorry for her. If only there was something he could do.
Swiftly, Troy swung the pistol around. Dan's heart almost forgot a beat. The barrel was aimed his way. He gulped so hard he thought his Adam's apple would explode out of his neck. Troy's menacing eyes gazed into his.
"Now it's your turn, Dan. C'mon, off with 'em."
Dan couldn't believe it. His developing erection quickly waned. "What? Ya want me to strip too?"
"You got it, man. C'mon, be quick."
Troy appeared so unpredictable that Dan truly believed he was capable of shooting him if he refused to comply, so reluctantly he began to take off his clothes. His denim shirt, his jeans. He sensed Sally Jo peering at his hairy pecs. His legs were cold as he hesitated over his boxers.
"C'mon, Dan. Leave the boots, but I want them boxers off. Let's see what ya've got inside of there."
Dan cursed him under his breath. He gripped the elastic, hoping that some other vehicle would approach and catch what was taking place in the Chevy. Then he felt glad that he had showered and changed after the episode with Melissa. Fresh boxers instead of the cum-stained pair. He had no idea what Troy had in mind. The shorts came off, leaving his dick exposed, all limp and shrivelled and surrounded by a mass of pubic curls. He and Sally Jo were two naked white shapes on the back seat. He awaited Troy's next move.
"Okay, that's good. That's excellent." He waved the pistol around. "Now I've a decision to make. It's like this. I'm gonna screw one of you guys. And the one I don't wanna screw I'm gonna blow away. So who shall I choose?" He laughed, an evil chortle that split the silence of the desolate road.
Dan started to panic. Whatever the crazy fucker chose to do he was going to lose. If he selected him, he was going to get fucked in the ass. And if he didn't choose him, he would get a bullet in the head. Shit, shit, shit! He wished to God he had never hitched a ride with this maniac Troy.
"It's an easy choice to make," continued Troy, "I'm partial to big tits, so I choose... you!" He directed the pistol Sally Jo's way. Devilish laughter ensued. Then he pointed the barrel at Dan. "So long, Dan."
Dan cringed. He wasn't going to sit there and take it. "Fuck this!" He snatched his clothes and pushed open the car door. He stumbled from the vehicle and began to flee along the road, his boots crunching into the gravel. The cool air hit his naked body. He expected Troy to start firing, in the same way Melissa's Pa had done earlier. It didn't happen. He could still hear the laughing, loud and raucous, but it was different somehow. He stopped about thirty yards from the Chevy, panting as he endeavoured to catch his breath. He pricked up his ears. He could hear Troy chuckling. And Sally Jo. She was laughing as well.
"What an asshole!" he heard Troy holler. "C'mon, Sally Jo. Get them clothes back on. Let's go find another sucker."
Anger welled up inside Dan. She was in on it too, it was all a fucking joke. The son of a bitch! He was seething with rage. He glanced around, wondering what to do, how to seek revenge on the couple. He breathed in the night air. As he did so, he sniffed something. He recognized the smell at once. The pungent stench of gas. He recalled Troy telling him that the saloon was leaking the stuff. He surveyed the track. A trail of gas led from his boots right up to the Chevy. He smiled.
"I'm gonna get my own back on you two fuckers," he muttered, as he fumbled in his jeans pockets. The packet of Marlboro was still on the bar at Casey's, but he still had his matches. Naked in the light of the moon, he struck one. The flame shone in his face. Then he dropped it.
"Eat shit, motherfuckers!" he cried, as he watched the yellow flame creep along the road towards the waiting Chevy.