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Fresh Meat

By: authorguybailey



Literotica edition © 2013 Guy Bailey

*

At twenty-four years of age, Boy stood two metres twelve centimetres in height and weighed one hundred and fifty three kilograms. He ate anything his mother cooked for him but found the greatest enjoyment in the flavour and texture of human flesh. He preferred female, and young. It was almost all gone though, and he was in the back shed mincing up the last of the stocks from the freezer; the arm of a mature man, the father of the last female. He had cut the flesh from the bone and was feeding the strips into the meat grinder Papa had bought from a catalogue with his new credit card.

Boy chuckled slowly to himself. Soon there would be another female come to stay in the caravan with the $25 a night sign painted on it. He had made the sign much brighter by adding a fresh, lime green outline to the letters earlier that day. He figured girls liked pink and green letters and numbers, and pretty dollar signs too.

***

Isabel checked her purse: a twenty dollar note and a few coins. She looked at the lip-gloss again: two dollars fifty. Her father's Peter Jackson cigarettes were sixteen dollars ninety-five. She grabbed a cherry bomb lip-gloss and put it on the scratched glass counter beside the smokes. "And three snakes," she said to the fat service station attendant. The big jelly snakes were fifty-five cents each.

The guy smiled. His teeth were different shades of grey and his puffy cheeks were red with burst blood capillaries. There was a nerve or something twitching his right temple, or maybe he was about to wink; a thought that made Isabel feel a little queasy.

She grabbed her lip-balm, snakes and her dad's smokes and took off out the door, leaving behind the chilly air-conditioning and feeling the heat from the concrete driveway hit her like a nuclear powered spotlight. It was early afternoon of a scorching summer day.

The tiny roadside village of Kangaroo Flat consisted of the one service station, a post office come general store, and a pub. There were seven houses. The highway was bitumen for a hundred metres either side of town then gravel for a couple of hours east and west beyond that. It wasn't really a gazetted highway but the number of road-trains carting cattle in recent years had forced an upgrade in the standard of the gravel surface.

There were no tourists of any description to be found at Kangaroo Flat. The pub catered to the few people in town and those from surrounding farms. Early afternoon it was pretty quiet. Isabel found the bar empty and just two men playing pool. She sat at the bar. The two men looked over and smiled.

"How you going, honey?" It was the taller of the two who had spoken. He would have been around thirty. He had dark eyes and a slightly pointy nose. The shorter guy was bald, or shaved bald. He had a familiar face. He had been in town the last time Isabel was there, she decided.

"Buy you a drink, love?" the tall man asked amicably enough.

The barman had approached. Isabel had only a few coins left; not enough for a drink, other than ice water, which she had hoped to get for free. She considered what accepting a drink from the two men would perhaps lead to.

"Could I have a glass of ice water, please?" she asked the barman. He was a grey haired man with sparkly green eyes. Isabel had seen him and exchanged smiles many times before. He scooped some ice and opened a bottle of mineral water. "I don't have any money," she said to him. "Usual water will be fine."

"That's fine, miss." He placed her glass of water on the bar mat in front of her and returned to a back room where there was a golf game on television.

The tall guy approached and leant back on the bar quite close beside Isabel. "It's rude you don't answer a man when he talks to you, sweet cheeks." He had bad breath. His eyes lowered to Isabel's cleavage then lifted to meet her gaze.

"Sorry. No thank you," she said.

The bald guy had edged closer. He sat on a stool along the bar a ways, leaning on his pool cue and looking towards the doorway where the barman had gone. He nodded to the tall guy, signalling that the barman was occupied, it seemed.

"Come play pool with us, eh?" The tall guy's breath was really bad. Isabel found it stifling.

"No thank you." 

Isabel looked beyond the tall guy to another man who had suddenly appeared in the pub doorway. He was a complete stranger to her, and she hoped, to the other two men as well. She smiled and waved to him. "Over here, Kenny!" she called out cheerily. "This is my boyfriend Kenny," she informed the tall guy, who stood, backing up a bit.

'Kenny' was nicely built, Isabel noticed. He had on Levis and a white t-shirt that clung to the definition of muscle in his shoulders and chest. His face was lined with the maturity of a man in his mid-thirties. His hair was dirty blond. He was twirling a set of car keys around a finger as he looked over in confusion. His hands were huge.

Isabel glared at him, rolling her eyes sideways at the sweaty oaf that was harassing her.

'Kenny' smiled. "What's up, Lois?"

***

'Kenny' (Brad Oakshot) was lost. He had left the city at 3am in a company 4WD with a tractor part for urgent delivery, and a mud map of where to find some place called Dalton. He had been driving for nine hours with the mud map having let him down about three hours ago.

This was merely another in a line-up of days that had not gone well lately. The reason he was delivering some stupid tractor part to a farm in the middle of God knows where, was that he had been shifted sideways. He had been kicked out of the office, where he enjoyed an air-conditioned thirty-eight hour week with an early knock-off every Friday, and shoved into sales and deliveries. He was picking and packing orders and driving a damn delivery van in city traffic every day. Often until six or seven at night.

"Hey, Brad—you're single right? You've got nothing planned for tomorrow eh?" his new boss had asked, smirking. "Got this delivery that has to happen!"

This was tomorrow; a Saturday. His old job had been in accounts receivable, in an office that didn't even exist on a Saturday.

He eyed the girl who had called him Kenny. He got that she was asking him to step up and help her out with the two sweaty looking farm boys. She looked a bit like Lois from the Superman TV series that he used to like. She was in a short sundress and boots. He could see why the farm boys were trying their luck.

"You okay there, baby?" He shifted his gaze to the guy sitting at the end of the bar then to the one edging back away from his 'girlfriend'. "How ya going, buddy—you all good?"

Brad worked out and did a bit of Karate. He was confident, and could see a lack of that in the eyes of the other men. 'Lois' stood and slipped her arm within his as he approached. She smelled like lollies. The feel of her fingernails digging into his bicep sent a warm tingle through his chest.

The farm boys left the pub and sprayed gravel as they took off in their rusty tray back utility. The barman pulled Brad the beer he ordered then returned to his television in the back room.

Brad took a long swig of the cold ale. "You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just a pair of dickheads. Thanks."

Brad pointed to himself. "Brad."

The girl smiled. "Isabel. Although Lois is a nice name. What made you call me that?"

"Popped into my head."

Brad took his mud map from his back pocket and opened it on the bar. "You heard of a place called Dalton around here anywhere, Isabel?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't. Sorry."

"What about Westmont?"

"No. I'm from Athol Grove, about an hour that way. But we haven't been here long." She had indicated the direction Brad was travelling with a toss of her head. Her dark hair bobbed about her shoulders. Her neck was slender and her skin looked soft and enticing.

Brad followed the line of her neck down to the open top button of her dress. Her skin was lightly tanned, but as she leant forward to sip from the straw in her drink on the bar, he noticed the distinct line of her tan and the milky-white roundness of her breast. The light cotton fabric of her dress was gaping to reveal a smallish peak with a dark little raspberry of a nipple.

"Ugh, I'm so hungry!" she exclaimed suddenly. "I have to get going."

Brad had pried his gaze from her chest and met her chocolate-brown eyes. "Is there anywhere to buy lunch here in town?"

She nodded. She had picked up her glass and was slurping the last of the water with the straw. "The general store has nice sandwiches."

"I need to eat too. Join me?"

"I haven't got any money."

Brad shrugged. "I'll shout you. Or my company will, since I'm on account for this trip."

"Hmm." She eyed Brad steadily, taking a very deliberate tour of his body before meeting his eyes with an unfathomable grin. "You're cute," she stated flatly.

Brad's cheeks heated but he just shrugged again. "Is that a yes?"

"It's a maybe." She pointed to his beer.

He nodded.

"What if we play for lunch?" She sipped daintily and motioned to the pool table with her eyes. "If I win you buy me lunch."

"Oh yeah—and what if I win?"

She had a small cotton shoulder bag sitting on the bar. She searched inside of it for a moment and found a tube of lip-gloss. It was pink in colour and made her lips shiny as she applied it. Brad was still looking at her lips when she answered his question.

"Well, if you win you still have to buy me lunch, but you get to taste my cherry-bomb afterward."

She flashed the lip-gloss, biting a lip teasingly.

Brad met the tease in her eyes steadily. He very much liked the idea of kissing her.

She turned and flung more tease over her shoulder as she walked towards the pool table. "But you won't win."

He finished his beer and held a hand up to the barman who had appeared to check on drinks. One beer was all he could have. He had seen a highway patrol car passing as he pulled up at the little pub. No doubt the cop would remember him having stopped, and would probably see him as a likely candidate for a breath test.

Brad watched from the opposite end of the table as the strange dark haired girl set up the pool balls. As she rolled the rack into position, her dress gaped again and revealed her small breasts, with her eyes lifting before Brad's did.

She smiled that off, very knowingly. "You should break, in case it's your only shot and you end up having to watch the rest of the game."

"Wouldn't mind just watching," Brad said.

She tossed another teasing smile over a shoulder, and as she turned from picking a cue from a stand against the wall she was fastening the top button of her dress. Her playful eyes widened into a mock glare. "It might have been safer letting those other guys buy me lunch."

Brad looked up from his cue. "Probably," he quipped, and broke with the nine balls flying all around the table. He sunk a couple and downed the one and three balls before missing the four and handing the table over to the incredibly sexy creature that tossed him yet another teasing smile as she edged past. She had softly brushed his front with her back and bottom to get by and to where she wanted to take her first shot.

She peered up from her cue and made the shot while keeping eye contact with Brad. The four ball dropped into the pocket and the white rebounded into perfect position for the next numbered ball. The remaining balls all dropped into their assigned pockets with ease and she peered up from her cue as she was making the final, winning shot. "No cherry-bomb for you, huh?"

Brad laughed. "Nope. No cherry-bomb for me. I think I just got hustled."

She lifted and kissed his cheek as she passed. "Come on, I'm hungry."

Brad followed. The bright sunlight shone right through her dress as she stepped from the shade of the pub. It was a white and light green, floral print dress. The skirt was short and lifted at the back upon a gust of breeze. It was almost revealing her underwear as it was, until she did a pirouette and the shirt fanned out to reveal that her panties were chequered blue and white. She caught the skirt and pressed it down, flashing another tease over her shoulder at Brad.

"Come on, slow poke!"

Brad caught up but she kind of pranced along mostly in front of him, pulling on his hand as they entered the general store to a blast of icy air and the aroma of freshly baked bread. There was another customer being served. The sandwich bar was behind glass with a range of fresh salad, cold meat cuts and cheeses.

"I'll have two cheese and tomato," Isabel said. "I don't eat meat. Do you?"

"Yeah, I guess."

It was an odd question, Brad thought. It seemed to matter to her, as the playfulness left her eyes momentarily.

"Okay. You can have it then," she said, looking down and away.

"Could we have eight cheese and tomato, please?" Brad asked the buxom woman who had dismissed her other customer and looked to him. "White or wholemeal?" he asked Isabel.

She beamed. "White please."

"All on white," he informed. His hand was being squeezed at that point.

"You can have meat if you want."

"No—you won fair and square. You get to order. A drink?"

"Can I have Coke?"

Brad took two bottles of Coke from the glass display fridge and placed them on the counter. Isabel claimed his hand again and intertwined her fingers, holding their joined hands against her body. The back of Brad's wrist was then pressed to the skirt of her dress in front, with the heat of her crotch noticeable enough to make his chest tingle with excitement.

There was a small café section in the shop where they sat to eat. Brad attempted to question the strange, exhilarating girl he had met about her life there in the middle of nowhere. She offered nothing of substance, just that it was extremely boring and that she often drove to Kangaroo Flat to get out of the house for the day.

"I really have to go," she said. They had finished eating and remained chatting for nearly an hour.

"Okay. It was nice to meet you, Isabel. Where are you parked?"

"Just out of town." She pointed in the general direction of the western end of town; the direction Brad was traveling.

She suddenly lifted and leant across the table to plant a kiss on Brad's lips. It was a closed mouth kiss with her sweet, cherry flavoured lips. "It was nice to meet you too, Brad. And thank you for before—with those other guys."

She grabbed her shoulder bag and turned back from the door to blow another kiss. "Bye!"

"Can I give you a li—" Brad was cut off with the bang of the screen door, and he watched through the window as the strange girl ran across the road and towards the tree-line at the end of town.

***

The 4WD was near on empty and took a while to fuel up. It was heavy on fuel, and Brad was pleased to be collecting receipts for reimbursement when he got back to the city.

If I ever get back. 

He opened his mud map on the bonnet of the vehicle and scratched his head. The fat man who had just served him wandered over sucking on a red ice-block. Brad glanced at him. "You ever heard of a place called Dalton?"

He nodded. "Dalton's Scrapyard? Closed years ago."

"A scrapyard—yeah, that could be it. Where is it? Around here somewhere?"

The fat man thumbed in the direction Brad had been travelling. "About an hour. Watch for the Athol Grove sign on the right, then another ten miles there's a candy striped awning on an old abandoned café and servo. That was Dalton's but he closed down back in the mid-nineties and retired over the coast somewhere. I think someone moved into his old house but I haven't heard of the scrapyard reopening."

Brad packed away his mud map. "Cool. Thanks, man. You wouldn't know if there's a motel or something anywhere in that direction?"

The fat man patted the roof of the 4WD and leant there by the driver's window when Brad had buckled-up. He pulled the used ice-block stick out of his reddened mouth. "There's lodgings in Athol Grove. The pub has clean rooms and good tucker."

"Thanks, man," Brad offered again as he drove off, powering the window up and cranking the air-conditioner dial up to full.

He had bought a couple of big bags of chips and still had three of the sandwiches from lunch, not knowing where he would end up and whether there would be any shops. The vehicle was a wagon and he had a cooler in the back seat that was plugged into the cigarette lighter. He stuffed the sandwiches and the two bottles of water he had also bought into that as he drove. Just out of town he came across the highway patrol car parked with red and blue lights flashing. It was in a truck parking area with the cop kicking the tires of a red, late model Falcon.

The cop looked over as Brad rolled slowly past. It was a sixty kilometre an hour zone so Brad was watching his speed. Then the bitumen ended and the one hundred speed limit sign set him free, but as the broad gravel road swept around a bend he came across the girl from earlier walking along.

She waved and smiled. He pulled up beside her and powered the passenger side window down. "Hello again!"

"Hi," she said, leaning on the window with her pretty brown eyes roving around to inspect the interior of the car. The top button of her dress was undone again and Brad could see some milky white breast beyond the line of her tan.

"What happened? Is that your car back there?"

"Nope. I haven't got a car," she replied lightly.

"But you said you were parked out of town." Brad had no interest in challenging the girl and didn't really care what she was up to. "Well, I thought you said—" he corrected himself, easing back from any kind of confrontation that might discourage her from accepting a lift.

"I know. I did say that, but I lied. I often hitchhike and I know I shouldn't."

Brad motioned to the passenger seat with his eyes. "Well?"

"But where are you going?" She was biting her lip and smile. She opened the door and climbed up onto the seat. Her long tanned legs swayed towards Brad. "Didn't you say you were looking for some place?"

"I found it." Brad tried not to look as she buckled-up and her legs swished together. He swallowed dryly. "I got directions back at the servo. I can drop off the tractor thingy and take you to Athol Grove. The guy said I could get a room at the pub there."

"Okay. It seems you are my hero today. It was so hot out there."

Brad reached into his cooler and produced one of the bottles of water. She thanked him and drank thirstily. They had chatted a little about his life back in the city over lunch and as they drove the conversation returned to that.

"I still think it would be way scary to live there all alone," Isabel was saying. "Especially as a girl and not knowing where it's safe to walk at night and stuff."

"Well that's easy. It's not safe to walk alone anywhere at night. But you don't have to. You just make sure you don't get caught without a ride home, or when you're out at night you stick with the crowd. There's plenty of young single girls living in the city."

"I nearly did it once," Isabel went on kind of wistfully as she sat gazing out the window.

The country was flat and lifeless. There were fields of brown grass and stands of short, sad looking mallee trees with the occasional out-of-season creek, sandy and dry. The red gravel road emitted shimmering heat waves that produced glassy mirages that evaporated as the 4WD cruised on through them.

"What happened with your wife though?" The question had ended a long period of silence. It seemed to be tacked onto the train of thought Brad's young hitchhiker had been pursuing before.

He noted her interest in his life with amusement, imagining a teen girl stuck out there would probably live for any news of the world beyond Kangaroo Flat. He wondered how old she actually was.


Fresh Meat On The Nude Beach



Hello, just like to tell a little story about my recent adventures to the local nude beach.

Anyway, I've thought about the idea of being naked outside for a long time, I've been on bushwalks where I've taken off my clothes and taken photos of myself nude but it wasn't very satisfying because I always wanted people to see me. I'm a bit of an exhibitionist I guess.

I'm a pretty slim and fit guy, I'm still a teenager at 19 but I get told I look 16 or 17.

Anyway I worked up courage to go visit the nude beach which I heard about a few months ago and on my first visit I just walked across the beach fully dressed, passing nude people all over the place.

The weekend came and on Saturday I decided I'd go and take off my clothes no matter what. So I did.

What I found was there were very few ladies on the beach, or girls. Not that I cared much because I wasn't there for a perve anyway, and I'd heard most of the people were nice, respectful people who just liked being naked and had little or no interest in picking up or attracting the attention of the opposite or same sex.

Little did I know.

I felt their eyes, a lot of people say it's paranoia but you can tell people stare at you.

Anyway nothing happened that day and that was cool and I loved the idea of skinny dipping and being naked so much I decided to go again after work during the week.

There were less people there this time, and it was a fairly nice day, just a few guys etc.

I set myself down at a spot, laying down the towel and then taking my clothes off where I sat, too nervous to stand up and laid down for a sunbake.

It got warm so I decided to go for a swim, I was in the water for a little while and on my walk back there was this guy sitting right behind where I had set myself up.

He had sunglasses on but his head was facing my way, he kept watching, without looking away and I decided to just pay him no attention and lay back down.

He watched me, and I just thought to pretend he wasnt there. He looked about 35 or so with a pretty average body.

I looked up to see if he was still there and saw his hand moving up and down where his dick would be... He was jerking off, I thought great... Whatever he wants to do, thats fine. I tried not to give it any attention but when I was glancing he looked straight at me, he was watching me...

I never thought of myself as goodlooking, I mean I'm alright there isn't anything overly ugly about me and yet I don't think there is anything spectacular about me. I never attracted this type of attention but then again I'd never been around gay guys, I assumed this guy was either gay or bi.

I'm bi myself, although I don't hunt for guys and never been with a guy. I'm more interested and very happy with girls. So I have no problems with gay/bi people but it was a little disturbing being in the presence of a stranger jerking off over my naked body.

I thought of it a bit as a complement, but then I was still a little freaked out. So I eventually decided I'd leave and got dressed and left. He watched my every step as I walked past him.

This wasn't a deturrent, I thought sure there might be one or two perverts out there, what could I expect? Nude or not nude there were still those kinds of people out there and they wouldn't necessairly pay any attention to me...

I did think to myself this must be how girls feel when they have strange guys comming onto them, or looking at them, like pieces of meat. Their bodies just objects ready to be fucked.

It was warm the next day and I decided to go to the beach again, same beach, I figured there wasn't much chance of catching the same guy and I decided to lay myself down in the open so even if there was people like that they wouldn't necessairly risk being seen jerking off by every1 on the beach.

I knew there was more chance of me being seen in general by every1 on the beach but oh well, it was a nude beach and me being naked wouldn't / shouldn't make much difference.

I laid down and was just sunbaking, I had my eyes shut and I was startled, opening my eyes to a guy standing over me.

"Hi, whats ur name?"

I didn't know what to say, never had someone naked aproch me and just ask straight out what my name was... Felt like he was comming onto me, what other reason would someone have for aproaching someone naked on a beach and asking their name?

I thought back to what I'd heard about families and nude beaches, it was a friendly place and fellow nudests were supposed to be nice people.

"Why?" I panic'd a little.

"Why?" He questioned.

Remembering the day before I explained, "I've just had a few problems with people on the beach"

"Oh what sort of problems"

I explained about the guy staring at me and jerking off, this guy laughed and I decided to introduce myself.

"My name is jason" I said, extending my hand to greet this stranger.

"Heath".

Ok so that was weird, but oh well.

"Do you mind if I join you for a little bit?" Heath asked.

He seemed alright I had no problems with him aslong as it wasn't so he could come onto me, heath I believe was in his 40's but looked early 30's with a good figure and a friendly sort of manly face. I wasn't really attracted to him and tried not to make notice of his bare dick.

"Yeh go for it, I don't mind" I explained.

See Heath seemed like an alright guy but I still couldn't figure out why he'd just aproach me, he made a bit of chit chat but eventually it got to sexual chatter. Heath told me about experiances he'd had at the beach, a girl he'd picked up and how his wife wouldnt' come to the beach with him.

He kept talking about how he'd jack off when he got horny up in the sand dunes where nobody could see him, away from prying eyes and the sight of children and families. He said it just felt good to do it in the nude with the air and breezes etc. I explained it wasn't my thing so he quickly changed to talking about this girl he'd picked up on the beach.

He'd fuck her a little bit down the beach where nobody went, he claims it's not uncommon to see a girl picking up on the beach, and literally fucking for all the world to see. I'd never experianced anything like this but it definately changed my prespective of the nude beach.

"Do you want to meet her, I reken she'd go for two guys if the other was clean"

I didn't know what to say, I wanted to but the more sensible part of me thought it might be a little strange.

"Shes' really tight"

Mmm just what I like I thought, a little old shes 34? But a fuck is a fuck right?

I couldn't believe I was thinking about going through with this kinda thing, I even thought a moment about just sucking and fucking this older guy right in front of me, but he acted like he wasn't gay or bi.

"You want to see my secret spot that I just let my imagination go wild?" Heath asked, he had sunglasses on so I couldn't tell where he was looking, I could see my naked body in his glasses and thought wow I wasn't too bad.

This was still the first time I'd ever had someone so straight out aproach and come onto me, although he kept saying.

"Hehehe don't get me wrong I'm not comming onto you or anything"

Why else would he need me to go with him to his secret spot?

I couldn't help but think about my curves, my smooth tanned skin. I'm a guy and I never thought I had a good body but just being naked in front of this guy was turning my on. I had to turn over onto my stomach so he wouldn't notice that I was getting aroused.

"Why don't we go and let our imaginations do the work?"

He was really serious, this 40 year old guy was trying to pick up a 19 year old boy. I felt exposed and vanuriable, my mind was confused. Parts of me wanted to go, I wanted to ask him to play with me, I wanted to touch him.

But I was afraid maybe someone would see us, I wasn't ready to come out of the closet, what if it was someone who knew me? Someone I knew?

He didn't say anything about my body, I don't think he wanted to know he was comming onto me, I wanted him to just grab my ass, I thought about being raped. Being forced to let him finger me, to touch my ass, to make me suck his dick.

I thought about letting him run his hands all over me, to play with me. I felt naughty and weirdly innocent, like I was his play thing.

I could imagine this is what girls go through, the way he spoke to me just had me in a trance, under his control. I could tell he was trying and I could imagine how I'd feel if I kept getting rejected. It just was so surreal. I loved being naked and having people perve on me, and now I knew they did.

Even if it was just guys...

Nothing happened that day, I said I usually went there and might see him again, he said his goodbyes and headed for his secret spot, I headed for my car to go home. I jerked off like crazy that night, just thinking about all the possibilities, maybe he wanted to get me into his secret place and convince me to suck him off, I thought about swallowing his cum. A full load all over my face, maybe he wanted to touch me all over.

I really don't know, but it made me so horny. Maybe he'd have raped me. I wanted something in my ass.

I'm going there again tomorrow, this isn't the end...



Fresh Meat



"She got a better offer about a year ago," he answered easily. He figured, why not be open and honest? It already felt good just saying that. "The bitch left me for some dude with mega-bucks, but the food must be pretty good because she's put on like twenty kilos since she moved in with him." It felt good saying that too. "Although the guy's huge too, so they kind of suit each other like that."

Isabel giggled. "That's funny. And now you can get a thin wife. You would suit someone with a nice figure. I mean, to look good as a couple."

The road rolled beneath the smooth, powerful vehicle. It had been an hour since Kangaroo Flat with a number of small roads branching off left and right. The signpost for Athol Grove was at a crossroad pointing right. It said fifty-five kilometres, which would be about an hour if a short stop to deliver the tractor part was factored in.

Isabel had dosed off with her legs bent up and to the side, and swayed towards Brad. Her head had rocked against the door and her lips were relaxed with a light, contented smile. Brad could see up the skirt of her dress to her chequered panties. 

The girl is half my age. What am I thinking? He watched the road but kept glancing to have another look at her exposed like that. He looked up from her slender young thighs to meet her well-knowing, slightly animated gaze. He couldn't help another quick flash down to her open dress as well.

He shook his head. Oh boy... 

"What?" she asked sweetly.

"Nothing. Just—" He looked her over again, glancing sideways. "You're not like fifteen or something are you, Isabel? You're not a runaway?"

"Do I look only fifteen?"

"Damned if I know with you girls. Fifteen, twenty—who can tell?"

She was fixing her hair, plucking at it in the vanity mirror on the sun-visor. With her arms raised, Brad could see her small white breast and firm little nipple in through her dress. There was actually two buttons undone, he noticed, swallowing dryly again.

"Well, how old are you?" she asked.

"Pushing forty."

Brad let his eyes lower to her thighs again. It was months since he had last been with a woman. It was twenty years since he had last been with a slender girl.

"Well I'm pushing twenty something. So is a fifteen year age difference too much?"

Brad looked at her. She was smiling teasingly.

"Well, is it?" 

"Too much for what?" It was in no way too much for him. She was legal.

"Too much for what you're obviously thinking," she shot at him with eyebrows raised.

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"You're thinking the same thing you men are always thinking," she said, without meeting his sideways glance that time. "Except I don't mind you thinking that."

"You don't?"

She glanced. "No."

Brad had to watch the road, or gravel track as it was, but he managed to find time to look his increasingly interesting travel partner over again. She had moved her legs down from the seat, so he could no longer see her panties, but the short skirt of her sundress was bunched up beneath her and only just concealed them. With the two buttons at the top of her dress undone the fabric gaped and sagged, allowing him a view of a lot of pure white skin even with her sitting back as she was.

She was wearing a tiny gold leaf pendant on a thin chain. "Do you like it?" she asked, shifting around to face him and fiddling with the pendant.

"It's pretty," Brad answered. With her legs swaying back towards him her thighs had parted to reveal the crotch of her panties again. He swerved back onto the road after having veered from it momentarily. She giggled and bit her bottom lip, then applied some cherry-bomb gloss.

"Do you want to go somewhere?" she asked.

"Sure! Where?"

She pointed to a rocky hill in the distance to the left of the road. "Up there. It's a really nice view and we could stop for a while."

There was a fork in the road. "That way?" Brad asked.

She shrugged. "I forget the exact way. The roads all look the same around here if you ask me."

The fork looked like it was headed in the general direction of the rocky hill. Brad figured with the country being so flat and open he would be able to find his way back easily enough.

The girl was looking at him as much as he was checking her out. He flexed his bicep one or twice when he felt her eyes. He had powerful thighs that were nicely defined by his jeans. The vehicle was automatic, so he was able to sit relaxed with his legs open and his package bulging with the state of his arousal. While they chatted she would be watching his face, and he had no trouble keeping a smile on it.

There were three other intersections and choices of road to be taken before there was a short, steep climb up a rocky trail to a promontory overlooking the arid expanse of country they had been travelling. Brad pulled up and turned the engine off. The girl was sitting there with a light smile on her face, uninterested in the scenery it seemed.

She looked at Brad's open packet of beef jerky in the centre console. "Have you been eating that?"

"This morning. Before we met," Brad explained, remembering her aversion to meat.

"Do you have a tooth brush in your bag?" She asked, pleadingly. "Would you mind—before um—?"

Brad got out his tooth brush and quickly complied with the entirely reasonable request, spitting out his open door. The girl watched, kneeling on her seat at that point.

"Thanks," she uttered sweetly.

Brad tossed his toiletries bag into the back seat and claimed her with a hand around the back of her neck, pulling her to his mouth and kissing her. "You're welcome," he said, and kissed her again.

For all of her apparent confidence, she was very submissive. Her body relaxed and she moaned softly as he searched her mouth with his tongue. When he relented and sought her eyes he found them glazed with willingness.

She was sitting in her seat again with her legs swayed together. The back section of the car was taken up by the tractor part. The back seat had the cooler and Brad's overnight bag. That was directly behind the front passenger seat, so there was at least room to lay that seat back. Isabel just watched as Brad reached down beside her and released the catch. She touched his chest, feeling him through his shirt with delicate fingers and long lightly penetrating nails painted purple. Brad kissed her hand and placed it back on his chest as he lowered to her parted lips again, tasting them, and tasting her sweet young essence as his penis firmed.

It was a roomy vehicle with big seats. He worked one leg beneath her bottom and rested on his side with an arm across the back of her seat and one hand free to explore. He lifted her dress up over her belly and her body shuddered as she half giggled and half squealed. Her stomach tensed and quivered and her bottom lifted as he felt her belly and hips. He was kissing her again though, and her moan went into his mouth. He kissed her chin and her neck, and he slipped two more buttons open on her dress and parted it to reveal her breasts. Her firm young body then undulated as he kissed his way down and pulled a tight little nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it and held it as he reached back down with his free hand and smoothed over her quivering belly to cup her chequered panties.

"Mmm," she moaned as she gripped his head and pulled his hair. She ground against his hand and thrust her chest upward. She had arched up off the seat and Brad slipped more fully beneath her. He moved his arm from the back of the seat and reached beneath to hold her and feel a breast while sucking on the other one. He kept her in place on his lap and used his fingers to keep pace with her wild lower body gyrations against his hand. He felt into her wetness through the thin fabric, and as she neared her climax he slipped his hand down the front of the tiny garment and inserted fingers into her. He then just held her as her body convulsed, her legs clamping together and crushing his hand and her arm gripping his head and holding him to her breast.

Brad waited for the girl to come back from wherever her mind had taken her. Her eyes rolled and focused on his. She bit her lip and smile, her cheeks flushed, her body again softly convulsing as he removed his hand from down her panties.

"Um... that was... um—"

"That was fun," Brad finished for her. He was painfully erect but was thinking about where he could take her in order to meet his own desires. He could have her right then and there. The glazed look of submission was still in her eyes. He could sit her on his lap or bend her over the bonnet of the vehicle if he chose to, but he wanted something else. He needed to be pressed fully against her beautiful young body; to be on top of her and between those long slender legs.

"You can stay with me tonight, yeah? When we get to Athol Grove, you can spend the night with me?"

"Okay," she uttered softly. "If you want."

"Oh, I want," he breathed, taking her lips again and drawing in her exciting young essence. "I say we get back on the road, drop this stupid tractor part off, and find a room."

She giggled. "Okay. I like that idea."

Brad took another taste of her lips then extracted himself from beneath her. He helped her lift the seat back up and watched her fix her dress. It was still open and she looked from her breasts to meet his gaze, waiting a moment until he turned away, smiling and shaking his head, then she tugged her dress closed and refastened two of the buttons.

"Going to need to find that room fast," Brad declared.

She was smiling. "Okay," she uttered again, tucking her legs up on the seat and laying her head against the backrest, her chocolate brown eyes wide and sparkling as she rested there looking at him.

***

Aw shit. Brad had seen that look before. Puppy eyes. The girl's looking at me with teenage crush, puppy eyes. She continued staring at him as he drove down the rocky trail. He glanced at her when he could; her dress hanging open at the top and hiked up around her hips. He didn't care if she ended up with a crush on him. He needed to get her to a motel room and take her properly.

The 4WD bounced from the last drop in the trail and surged into the mallee scrub. The first intersection in the gravel road was familiar. The next one took a bit of thought to work out which way to go. The third intersection was entirely unfamiliar. Brad took a guess; the girl was just smiling at him, with no idea where they were or which way to go. A half hour later they were back at that same intersection. The alternate direction had the rocky hill on the other side of the road when they finally burst from the scrubby trees and could see where they were going.

"I think we're well and truly lost now," Brad said at that point, patting Isabel's knee and squeezing affectionately.

"I don't care. This is fun." She reached over with her foot and pressed the bulge in his jeans with her toe.

Brad drove on, determined. The road straightened. There would have to be a town or something around there somewhere. He would have been satisfied with a signpost pointing to some place worthy of a name.

The narrow track they were on finally ended at an intersection with a broader road that had a sign pointing to the left with Kangaroo Flat 120, and to the right with Westmont 86. Brad opened his mud map. "Well, there's Westmont. But how do we get from there to this Dalton Scrapyard, and then find your town, wherever that is?"

His travel companion yawned.

"I think we head back to Kangaroo Flat. At least we know the way from there. And this time we stick to the road and we should be in Athol Grove in what—three hours tops?"

"Or we could go to your place," Isabel said. "You could take me home with you."

She was smiling, teasingly Brad decided. "Tempting!" he said, and she giggled.

He swung the 4WD onto the road and surged towards Kangaroo Flat.

***

"Where you at, Boy?"

It was Papa's cross voice. Boy cringed as he called back. "In here, Papa!" There was no point trying to hide from Papa.

"What you doing there, Boy? Didn't I tell you to feed those pigs?"

Boy hurried from where he had been petting his frogs and jogged in front of Papa. Papa was short but he carried a walking stick that he would use to belt Boy across the head when he felt like it. He often felt like it when he was drunk from the peach brandy that was wafting from his skin right then.

"Where you at, Mama?" Papa called into the laundry as he passed. Mama came out and Papa poked her with his walking stick. "What you doing in there you old cow?" He poked her in the stomach and pushed her along, laughing. "The two of you got to feed those hogs, now get to it."

Boy watched his Mama try to get up from having fallen in the mud. Papa booted her bottom and sent her sprawling face-first into a big puddle, and he roared with laughter. Boy figured it was better when Papa was beating on Mama and not on him. Sometimes he beat on Mama too, to please Papa and make him laugh. Girl was Papa's favourite though. No one was allowed to beat on Girl.

Boy wondered where Girl was today. They'd had Girl since she was small, when they lived at the other place. Papa kept her after they ate her mama and papa. Boy liked Girl. He wished he could cook her and eat her, but he could imagine how cross Papa would be then.

***

The Case Parts & Service 4WD rolled into Kangaroo Flat at about five in the afternoon. It slowed for the town passing and then surged into the mallee again. "I've still got some of the sandwiches and there's chips in back," Brad was saying in response to Isabel wanting to stop for food.

She reached over to the cooler and rummaged in it while Brad looked at her bottom. Her pants were bikini style and covered her, but they looked cute so he gave her bum a pinch. She resumed her seat with the sandwiches and a bottle of water. She sat sideways, resting back against the door with her feet in Brad's lap. Her dress had slipped from a shoulder and revealed one breast.

"Do you want one?" She offered a sandwich, but when Brad attempted to take it she held it away from his grasp. She was smiling and eying him teasingly. 

He glanced down at her exposed breast and gave an eyebrow flicker. "I want something."

She checked herself and tugged her dress back up to her shoulder. There were three buttons undone though and it barely hung there. She waved the sandwich back and forth until Brad caught her hand and took a bite.

"Okay—I'll feed you," she said with a giggle. "But that stuff has to go!"

Brad lowered his window and tossed the packet of jerky out. The strange, intoxicating, absolutely amazing creature he had picked up then fed him the sandwich a bite at a time. She watched him eat, sitting there staring at him with her feet massaging his constant erection and her dress again having slipped from her shoulder. After she had finished eating she reapplied her cherry-bomb lip gloss, still just staring at Brad as she pursed her lips together.

He drove on into the scrub and the setting sun. He spotted the Athol Grove turn-off this time, and stuck to the road beyond there. It was getting on dusk when the small grading of gravel became two wheel tracks and then the trees closed in and there was a huge bump before the 4WD bounced from the scrub to hit a broader gravel road. They had landed directly across and needed to decide left or right. There was no sign.

"I think, left," Isabel said. She had buttoned her dress fully and was sitting properly in her seat with her seatbelt fastened.

Brad had not gotten it right all afternoon so he decided her choice of 'left' was worth a try. The broad, smooth road entered a stand of pines where the shadows were deep and dark. There was a small stream to cross, and when the road emerged from the timber there was a driveway to what looked like an abandoned service station. The building had a glass front section that could have been a café, and it had a dull, candy striped awning. There was a house extending from the back of the service station. To the side was a large workshop with a faded brown sign on top: Dalton's Scrapyard.

"Hey look—they've even got a cabin to rent," Brad said as he pulled up in front of the awning. There was a large caravan and annex under a sprawling shade tree. It was brightly painted and had a small garden and neatly trimmed lawn.

He looked at Isabel. She still had the puppy eyes. He pulled her close and kissed her. "Should I ask if it's available for the night?"

"If you want to," she uttered softly. "You can have me anywhere you want... or just take me home to keep."

Brad kissed her again. Hard.

An old man appeared, ambling from the side of the service station. There was a huge man behind him who hung back kind of bobbing his head and shoulders, trying to see who had come to visit it seemed. The guy was massive with narrow shoulders and a barrel shaped abdomen, and knees that touched with his boots wide apart and pigeon-toed inward. He was craning his neck excitedly trying to see in the vehicle.

Brad lowered his window. "I have a tractor part here for Victor Turak of Dalton. Am I in the right place."

"That's me," the old man replied, leaning down to look across at Isabel. He grinned. His breath was like petrol fumes. "You got my new ram? Been waiting long enough," he went on gruffly.

"Sorry. It took some time to get on order. It was an older model that had to come from overseas apparently." Brad showed the guy to the back of the 4WD. The part was in a metre-long wooden box that weighed enough that help had been needed to lift it in.

There was a delivery docket that the old man scribbled his signature on. "Boy!" he called out, and the bigger man approached, still bobbing his head and shoulders and eyeing the inside of the vehicle as he got close enough to see through the tinted windows. "Get that, Boy!" the older man commanded, and Boy lifted the box and tipped it up onto his shoulder with ease.

Brad's height didn't even reach the guys shoulder. He was the biggest human he had ever seen in real life. He had buck teeth and a broad, flat forehead. His eyes were small and set too close to his nose and far too deep into his skull. At that he was also cross-eyed, Brad noticed. He lurched off around the corner of the building carrying the tractor part as if it were nothing.

"Mama's got hot meatloaf and fresh coffee brewing," the old man announced, slapping an arm around Brad's shoulder as if he was suddenly a long lost relative come to visit.

"No thanks. We've already eaten!" Isabel announced just as forthrightly. She had gotten from the vehicle and stood on the side-step looking over the roof.

"We were wondering if the cabin was available for the night?" Brad asked. "We're good for food and all but it's been a long day driving to find this place."

The old man rubbed his chin. "That right, Girl? You want to stay the night?"

"Yes," Isabel replied, kind of meekly that time.

"Just the one night, eh?" The old man included Brad in the question that time. He was grinning between the two of them and nodding his head.

"Yes. For just one night," Isabel answered him. "That's all—"

He chuckled. "Well, I suppose our fine cabin here is available for the night." He had taken Brad by the shoulder again. His grip was of iron and he was kneading a neck muscle with his thumb. "I think you young folks might find our cabin mighty comfy after a long day out on the road."

"Very good. Do we sign in somewhere? I have cash," Brad offered.

They were strolling towards the cabin. Isabel had taken Brad's hand and was clinging to it. She kept him between her and the weird old man.

"Let's worry about payment when you check out in the morning, eh?"

"Fine. Thank you." Brad waved as the old man turned and ambled off. The big guy was back but the old man turned him away and pushed him through a gate and closed it.




Fresh Meat



Isabel was already in the cabin somewhere. Brad heard her steps coming from deep within and returning to the open door, where she appeared smiling broadly and looking at him with her puppy eyes.

"One second," Brad said to her, and he quickly moved the 4WD over to the cabin, grabbed his bag and locked the vehicle up.

The entry to the cabin was the annex section that was attached to the caravan. There was an open bathroom door with a toilet visible. Isabel was standing in a living area with her arms behind her back and her chest forward, still grinning as she was obviously waiting. Brad pointed to the toilet, and she nodded. He found that room to be surprisingly spotless. It was sparkling clean and there was a fresh floral aroma in the air. There was a pile of fluffy towels on a stand beside the shower cubicle. There was a vanity with soaps and a mirrored cabinet stocked with a range of toiletries. It was certainly well set up for any female occupants, and had items for men as well.

"This is very clean," he said to Isabel when he approached her sitting on a long blanketed couch. There was a polished wooden dining set and a fully equipped kitchen.

"Yes, it is very clean," Isabel replied, standing and peering up at him. There were even fresh flowers in a vase on the bench and more in the bedroom.

Brad took Isabel's hand and led her to the bedroom. He turned her to face him with her back to the bed. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips. "It's been years since I've been with someone so young and pretty," he said to her. "Haven't had much of this at all lately."

"You can have me now," she uttered softly. "You can have everything you've been thinking about today... however you want me," she added sensually, looking directly into his eyes.

Brad's penis firmed instantly. It lifted and hardened almost painfully at the look of her; at the slight parting of her lips and the total submission in her stare.

He claimed her. He lowered her to the bed and dropped on top of her, forcing her legs open with his thighs and grinding his bulge into her crotch during another deep, searching kiss. Her legs had fallen aside and her arms had flopped above her head. She was twirling hair in her fingers as he knelt up and ripped his shirt off. Her eyes widened as they caressed his chest, and she let out a tiny giggle.

Brad undid the buttons of her dress and opened it. He left it parted either side of her on the bed and looked at her breasts. They had goose-bumps and her nipples were tight. He cupped both mounds and thumbed the firm little raspberries. She was watching his hands. She hummed softly as he bent to one nipple and sucked it into his mouth. He had to move down the bed to get at them, and he worked his jeans and shorts down and pulled her little chequered panties from her legs while sucking from one nipple to the other.

He moved back to her lips and tasted them. Her legs had fallen open again and he felt between them to find her very wet. Lowering down fully on top of her, he curled his hips, entering her and surging up inside of her. She bit his lip and her fingernails dug into his back. He withdrew and then surged again, lifting her slender body and thrusting deep into it.

Brad kept the pretty young face in his hands so he could kiss those cherry-bomb lips at will. He supported his upper body on his elbows and cradled her head while humping with his lower body, building a steady rhythm. He had been aroused all day so it was difficult to be controlled and patient. He wanted to just take her selfishly, and he could have. She was clinging to his back with those painted nails but her legs were limp either side of his, and what he wanted; what he needed, was there for the taking.

Brad lost all control. A frenzy of powerful thrusts ended in a tremendous climax that had him crushing the slender young thing to his body and trying to fill her with the burst of ecstasy that exploded from within him.

When the climax abated he held her face again, smoothing her hair aside and kissing her clumsily. "Oops—lost it a bit there."

She took a breath under his weight. "That's okay. It was nice."

Brad was still firm and still inside of her. He withdrew and inserted again. Her eyes closed and slowly opened.

She grinned. "Come shower with me? We're all sweaty now."

Brad rolled his pelvis a few more times slowly and deliberately. Her eyes softly closed once more and she gripped his head and undulated against him. They were indeed sweaty and their bodies slipped and squished together. He slowed his action and kissed her open mouth. "You want to shower now?" he asked, grinding into her again, playfully that time.

She nodded. "You can have me again later... the sheets are satin and we can be completely nude together."

Her dress was still clinging to her shoulders. Brad's jeans and boxer shorts were around one of his ankles. They were both less than fresh smelling from a hot day in a car. They were lying on a scratchy bedspread with clean satin sheets beneath.

Brad led the way to the shower. Isabel gathered her underwear and followed. She brought the tiny garment into the shower and washed and rinsed it while Brad washed himself. He then helped to wash her lovely body. He did her back, and she squirmed against him as he washed her breasts and played with them a little. She then turned within his cuddle and felt his chest, tracing lines in the definition of his slight yet muscular physique; first his pecs and then down and around the square pillows of his abdominal muscles, and then lower to grip and hold his erection as he kissed her under the spray of the water.

"But not here... not like this," she whispered to him. He claimed her with powerful arms around her body and huge hands gripping her bottom, lifting her against the glass shower screen and holding her there.

***

Isabel protested outwardly but was on fire inwardly. She guided the head of his penis into position and as she was lowered it entered her. She was being held firmly in place with her legs on either side of Brad's hips, and the length of his penis slowly moving in and out of her. She was also being kissed. He didn't seem to be building in intensity; more so just enjoying the feel of her. The deep, slow thrusting was steadily nurturing another orgasm for her though. She clung to his shoulders and bit on one of them as it threatened to overflow, and then she cried out as the delightful sensation gripped her belly and thumped through her.

She was held firmly in place against the shower screen by the man she was clinging to. He had stopped thrusting and held himself fully inside of her. She turned her head to rest upon his shoulder again. Her arms relaxed around his neck. She was sitting in his big hands and her legs hung limply from there until he withdrew his erect member and lowered her to her feet.

This was not new. Isabel had been allowed to keep lots of different men. Papa encouraged it. He was pleased when there were new women's things for Isabel to choose from; maybe a pretty dress or some make-up or perfume. He understood about men and women, and that she needed to have boyfriends. She had been allowed to keep past boyfriends for up to a week before Boy killed them.

No past boyfriend had been as nice as this one though. Isabel lay awake, snuggled back against Brad's firm, athletic body. She had a hand resting upon his powerful thigh. His lean stomach and lightly haired chest were pressed against her back. His arm was cuddling her close with his big hand covering one of her breasts. He was again erect, and she squirmed a little and guided his penis back into her very wet opening. It was after three in the morning and he had been sleeping. She had been thinking about him and rubbing herself. His erection had occurred in his sleep.

He kissed her neck as he moved within her. She ground against his thrusts, reaching back to hold his head, and arching her hips to invite all of him inside.

Isabel reached that dreamy morning orgasm quickly and when her new boyfriend released her body, spent from his own climax, she turned to cuddle up to his chest. It was still several hours until dawn. Boy always woke early when he had a kill to do.

The steady breathing of the man beside her returned and she lay awake beside him, fiddling with his chest hair and thinking if she should, or not. She had never defied Papa before but she wanted to. She didn't so much want to keep this man as she wanted for him to keep her. She wanted to go to the city. She wanted to go there with him.

"Wake up," she whispered, shaking him gently.

He stirred. "What? What is it, Isabel."

He had woken with her name still in his mind. She smiled. "Let's go!"

"Go?"

"Yes. Let's go now—please?"

She had gotten up on her knees. He sat, rubbing at his face and yawning.

"Right now?" There was a curtained window behind them. He peered out. "It's the middle of the night."

Isabel was pulling her clothes on in the dark. "Come on we have to hurry."

"But why? What's the rush?"

Lies were easy. All boyfriends had to be lied to. "It's just that those men are so creepy. I want to go before they wake up. Please, can we?"

Brad was searching for clothes too. Isabel helped him.

"But we have to be quiet," she whispered. "And no lights!"

***

Brad's adrenalin was surging. He didn't really know why, but the girl seemed extremely worried and he wanted to help her. He had to agree that the two men had looked creepy, and if the thought of seeing them again was so frightening, he needed to make sure it didn't happen.

He left cash on the dining table. He would not leave without paying. She was pulling him along, shushing him and making him sneak quietly from the cabin to the 4WD. The orange flash of hazard lights lit up the driveway when he beeped it open. She carefully pulled her door closed, cringing at the slight sound it made. He did the same.

There was no sound or movement from the house at the back of the service station. "Can you start it quietly?" the girl whispered.

"Not really. It's a diesel. It's pretty loud."

She searched behind, in the direction of the buildings. Turning back, she whispered anxiously again. "Well when you start it you have to drive fast, okay? Really fast!"

Brad nodded, his teeth gritted, his blood thumping in his ears. The girl looked absolutely horrified.

He turned the key and the engine ground and fired up immediately. The silence of the cool night air was shattered. A light came on in the house and a curtain moved as he floored the accelerator and surged backwards towards the candy striped awning. The front door of the service station opened and the old man appeared. Brad pulled the gear lever into drive and floored the accelerator again. He spun out of the driveway and powered onto the road, glancing back to see headlights swing around from the big old workshop. Isabel screamed and gripped his arm. The other vehicle pulled up in front of the service station then burst onto the road in pursuit of them.

"Hurry! Hurry!" Isabel implored of him, clinging tight and watching out the back window. Brad had driven some rally, and the company 4WD was not underpowered. He had the driving lights on, illuminating the night, and the feel of the fingernails digging into his arm made him grin through his teeth, still gritted in tension but morphing into exhilaration. The road was broad, smooth and straight. He had the speedo tipping 150 kph. The headlights in the rear-view got smaller and smaller. The girl squeezing his arm squealed in delight.

A turn-off flew by with a sign post Brad didn't quite catch, but it could have been Athol Grove. He thought it might have been. "Did we miss your turn-off?" he asked Isabel.

She kissed his cheek and cuddled up to his shoulder. He patted her knee and gripped her thigh affectionately. "I don't know. I think there are other turn-offs later," she answered him. "I don't care anyway. I don't care where we go!"

Brad didn't care at that point either. The last few years of his marriage had been hard. He and his ex had fallen out of love and hung in there for the children; a young teen boy and girl. That last year, they had slept in different bedrooms and Brad had practiced total celibacy. In the year since actually moving out of the house, he had had two or three dates and only one sexual encounter, which happened while very drunk. Isabel looked like a teen but was apparently twenty-three, which was significantly older than his kids; enough so that it didn't seem too wrong to be having sex with her. She was smart and witty, and completely adorable, and she was all over him.

Brad had no idea where the road was heading. It was spearing off into the crisp starry night. There was sufficient moonlight to see that the mallee scrub was still with them. There had not been another turn-off and it had been about half an hour since the one that had flashed by at a hundred and fifty clicks.

What the heck—we'll end up somewhere or other. There's got to be another town out here somewhere, he figured, squeezing the slender thigh of his lovely passenger and earning a nice smile by the light of his instrument console.

***

Boy thumped a massive fist down, squashing a frog. "It's not fair," he grumbled, picking up the squishy green blob and throwing it against the corrugated iron wall of the workshop. He kicked a metal bucket and sent nuts and bolts scattering across the oily concrete floor. He would be in trouble for that later but he didn't care. "It's just not fair!" he said again, sulking, and he kicked the empty wooden box that the delivery guy had brought the hydraulic ram in, sending it hurling through the air and out the door into the back of the F100 pickup.

Boy had seen the delivery guy in the shower with Girl. He had watched through a hole he had drilled in the wall that Papa and Girl didn't know about. The delivery guy had the big, round shoulder muscles that were really meaty and easy to cook. His thighs were huge for roasting with onion and potato. Boy wiped at some drool that had seeped from his mouth. The guy was young enough to still be tender. Not as tender as a girl, but still juicy and tasty.

There was a scream that pierced the morning air, making Boy look to the kitchen window. Papa was beating on Mama again. He had her by the throat, pinned against the fridge. Boy wondered whether Mama had any meatloaf left. It was the only way to cook up old man flesh, or old woman flesh for that matter. You had to mince it and make it into a loaf or rissoles or something.

Mama came tumbling out the back door and landed face-first in the vegetable garden. Boy waited until she had pulled herself to her feet then he booted her and sent her sprawling on the ground again. He laughed. She had a bloody nose and she was cowering from him with an arm raised to protect her head as he threatened to beat on her like Papa taught him. It was usual to beat on Mama when Girl was bad. No one was allowed to beat on Girl but someone had to be punished, and it was Mama's fault for not teaching Girl right.

"It's your fault, Mama," Boy said, and he smacked her across the back of the head, sending her face-first into the tomato bushes again.

"Where you at, Boy?" It was Papa calling, and Boy hurried on into the house to get his breakfast. The sun was coming up and he was hungry.

***

Brad hit the brakes and skidded to a halt at an unmarked crossroad. Isabel had been sleeping. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes. "Any ideas?" he asked her.

"What time is it?"

Brad pointed to the clock on the radio display. It was after eight. He turned the radio on and searched through to find nothing other than classical music. A family of wallabies hopped from the green roadside grass and stopped on the road straight ahead, twitching their noses in interest it seemed.

Isabel stretched. The look on her face was one of utter contentment as she smiled lightly across at Brad. "Are you going to keep me?"

Brad chuckled, shaking his head. "Um—what if I said yes?"

Her smile broadened.

"What do you mean, keep you? What does that mean exactly?"

She swung around sideways in her seat, tucking her legs up. Brad noticed she had on different panties; pink ones.

"I could be your girlfriend. Do you have a house or an apartment?"

"An apartment."

"I like apartments best," she said. "Do you have a double bed?"

Brad nodded, his eyes rolling slowly down then back up again.

She bit her lip. "Do you want me?" she asked sweetly.

This was completely nuts but, "Yes, I want you," he replied simply and honestly. "Of course I want you!"

Her smile beamed. "I think there's a town if you turn right. I remember that water tower."

There was an old wooden water tank on a stand that fed a stock watering trough. The wallabies were drinking from a puddle where the trough was dripping onto the ground.

Brad figured she must have carried spare panties in her cotton shoulder bag. The ones she had on were pretty. He squeezed her thigh again, nearly touched them when she squirmed a little. She took a jelly snake from her bag and broke it in half, offering him a piece. He was hungry. He squeezed again, reaching in further between her legs and feeling her more deliberately that time; feeling her moist heat through the soft cotton fabric of her underwear.

The past few years without a woman had been too long. Brad had had enough of being alone. He had never been the type to pick up at the pub or anything. Unless he had a steady girlfriend he would be getting no sex at all, and here was a beautiful, incredibly sexy young woman who wanted him to take her home to keep. Hell yes! As soon as he found a road with a sign pointing the heck out of the endless mallee scrub he would be headed straight for home.

"What about your things though?" He thought just then of that practicality. They would need to stop at her place to get her stuff.

Her cheeks reddened. "Um. Can you buy me some dresses? And maybe another pair of sandals? I could get a job and pay you back."

"Of course. But it's no problem to call in at your place. Once we work out where we are."

"No—it's okay. It would be best to just leave my stuff," she said, pleading a little.

Brad wasn't sure if she was maybe scared of going home or perhaps embarrassed. He decided to drop the subject. He could spring for a new wardrobe. The idea of what she might buy to wear was intriguing. He squeezed her fingers. She had pulled his hand into her lap and was holding it there.

"You really want to keep me?" she asked sweetly. Her eyes were big and dreamy.

He smiled. "Oh yeah. I really want to keep you, Isabel."

Her chest lifted and she expelled a big breath of contentment. "I'll even cook meat for you," she said, as if that was something huge.

Being cooked for was something that hadn't occurred to Brad. He enjoyed his meat but was game to try whatever. "Or we could eat vegetarian."

She just kept staring at him, pressing his hand into her lap.

He drove on into the morning, answering her questions about where he lived and what he did with his days, about his job and his friends and what he did at night and for fun. She offered nothing of her own life but he was okay with that for now. He had settled on the idea of taking a mystery girl home with him. Sometime later would be soon enough to work out who she was. She would probably open up about that in time; in her own time, Brad considered. He had taken her for a runaway when he had first seen her. She was alone, hitchhiking, with no money. He was probably not far off the mark with the idea she was trying to get away from something in her life.

***

Late in the morning they finally rolled into a dusty little hick town. It was much the same as Kangaroo Flat only there was no service station, just a pub and general store, with no houses and no bitumen stretch between the speed signs.




Fresh Meat



The pub had cold beer and counter lunches. The bony, leather skinned old woman behind the bar cooked up a thick tomato and cheese omelette that tasted good. Brad added a stack of freshly baked bread and filled up his empty belly to the point he needed a nap before he could drive on. The woman had updated his mud map with the local knowledge needed to find the way back to the main highway headed east.

There was a huge shade tree over behind the pub. He and Isabel wound their seats back and slept soundly for a few hours. Isabel had said she did not sleep at all in the cabin, which explained why she had been dosing all morning and had no trouble sleeping on into the afternoon.

Brad woke first at about two o'clock, sweaty and cramped. He strolled over to the general store and brought back chips, jelly snakes and drinks. Isabel stirred, stretching and yawning. She fixed her hair back then buckled up her seat belt.

"You smell like a man," she said. "I think we need to find somewhere."

"Somewhere?" Brad started the 4WD.

"Uh huh. Somewhere with no one watching," Isabel clarified.

"So we can?" Brad made a ring with his thumb and finger and poked his other finger through.

Isabel nodded, grinning. "Don't you want to?"

The food and sleep had worked for Brad. There had been ample recovery time since the sex early that morning.

"I smell like a man?" he enquired.

She nodded again. "Yes. It's very nice."

"You smell like lollies," he told her, and she giggled. He then reached into her dress and felt her breast, making her moan softly and close her eyes.

Off the road a ways, there was a grove of gum trees and a pond with lush grass and nice cool shade. Brad spread out a huge towel he had packed in his bag. Isabel sat down and he bent to her, kissing her lips and searching her warm sweet mouth. "Damn straight, I want to keep you," he breathed into her as he tasted her again, that time claiming her wrists and pinning them above her head, making her writhe and moan some more.

He held her in a kiss while releasing the buttons of her dress, gently twisting each one and slowly revealing her breasts and belly. Then he opened her clothing completely, and cupped her little pink panties with his fingers gripping firmly as he kissed her neck and then sucked on one of her breasts.

A car was passing. They were far enough from the road to be inconspicuous. Brad waited, watching it until it had gone by. Isabel was just peering up at him, her dark eyes wide and huge, her lips parted, her chest rising and falling; shuddering slightly as he bent to kiss her again.

"I like these ones," he commented, tracing a finger down her belly to the tiny satin bow on the waist band of her panties. "They're very pretty."

She bit her lip. "Can we shop for some underwear too?"

"We can," he answered, slipping a finger beneath the bow and tugging downward.

She lifted and allowed him to pull her underwear down. He removed them from her legs then stripped his shirt and opened his jeans. She watched him, her eyes roving his body as he undressed for her, and widening as his erection sprung free and levered slightly upward. It was swollen and roped in veins. Brad could feel the tightness in it, the dull ache of being so powerfully erect, and the numbing sensation from such recent love making that meant he could last an hour here if necessary.

He lowered between her thighs and entered her, sliding in slowly and firmly, lifting her off the towel and impaling her on his shaft. She gripped his neck and moaned into his shoulder. He rolled his hips and skewered her again, her wet heat swirling around his penis, sucking on it and drawing him in deeper. He kissed her hair and her face and her eyes before she bit into his other shoulder, and he ground into her again. He held the top of her head, keeping her slender young body in place as he surged into her tight little opening again. She cried out that time and dug her fingernails into his back, clinging to him as he settled into a steady rhythm of deep penetrating insertions, each culminating in an intense grinding action that met the pressure of her pelvis bearing down and wetly rubbing back against him.

Brad mated with the girl he would be taking home to keep. He humped her mercilessly through her first, full body clenching orgasm. Then he turned her over and mounted her on her knees and elbows, riding her through several more highly vocal orgasms before his own climax had him squashing her flat and gripping his toes into the grass to force himself more fully into the swirling, pulsing heat of their coupling.

He collapsed upon her back with her hand behind his head, her fingers in his hair. He was heaving for breath and she was panting. Their bodies were soaked and squishing together.

"Some men don't want you anymore after they have you," she said.

Minutes had passed with Brad having slipped from her back and keeping her cuddled up in front of him. He sought her face and her lips, kissing that silly notion away. "Well I want to take you home to keep, so we had better get back on the road."

She giggled. He helped her up and they dressed and pulled out the new mud map. An hour later Isabel was sleeping soundly in the passenger seat and Brad was stopped at an unmarked intersection with yet another blind choice to make. The intersection was not on his map, or perhaps it was but he had lost track of where on the map he was at. The sun was dipping into the west and his fuel gauge was halfway between the E and the ¼ dot. He spun left and hoped for the best.

After another hour and two more unmarked crossroads, the fuel gauge was on empty and there was a right turn with a signpost saying Athol Grove 25. It was a broader road, offering the promise of an end to what was becoming a very worrisome situation. It had been a long while since the last building of any description or passing car.

Isabel was still sleeping peacefully. Brad swung right and drove on steadily, hoping to get as far as he could before running out of fuel. The trip computer offered another nine kilometres as he pressed the button to check again.

The road was straight and smooth for a while. The sun dipped behind the mallee trees. The road curved one way and back the other, then it entered a grove of pines and crossed a small stream. The 4WD spluttered and coughed, the engine failing as the pine trees parted to reveal a candy striped awning.

Brad rolled off to the side of the road and pulled the hand brake on. He recognised the awning and the old service station. His mind ticked over. Athol Grove would be the first turn-off that he had missed that morning. Just before the stream was where he had shot through the scrub and landed on the road in the first place. It was an hour back to Kangaroo Flat from there and he knew the way the heck out of the mallee scrub from that point.

There was a fuel can in back that held twenty litres. He had seen a diesel tank next to the big workshop; fuel for the tractor that he had brought the part for no doubt. He had done a runner that morning but he had left forty dollars on the table in the cabin when the tariff for the night was posted at just twenty-five. Surely the old man would have found that to his satisfaction, realising that they had not taken off without paying.

Brad quietly got out and claimed the fuel can from in back. He wondered whether he should leave Isabel sleeping but thought better of it, in case she woke and was frightened to be there alone. He leant across and squeezed her knee. She stirred. "Hey, pretty girl, I have to get some fuel. We ran out. I'll be back in a minute."

She yawned, peering around. Her light smile ended as horror washed over her face. "No—you can't!" she whispered anxiously. "You can't! You can't go there!"

"No, it's fine. They'll be okay," Brad assured her. "I paid for last night. I'll just go buy a few litres and we're fine now. I know where we are."

"But you mustn't. They'll be so hungry!"

"Hungry?"

"I mean angry. They'll be so angry," Isabel implored.

Brad was on his way though. "It's fine. Just wait there—I'll be five minutes," he called back, chuckling, and he hurried along and through the trees towards the service station.

***

Isabel reefed at the seatbelt and was about to run after him when Papa opened her door and leant with a foot on the side-step. "What you doing, Girl?" he asked mildly. "Where you been all day?"

Isabel swallowed at the dry lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. "Um."

Papa chuckled. "You got my smokes in here?" He lifted her shoulder bag and found his Peter Jackson cigarettes.

Isabel was trying to see Brad through the trees but had lost sight of him. "Where's Boy?" she uttered, sniffling as tears welled.

"Boy's waiting," Papa said easily. "You know that was a mean trick you played on him, don't you, Girl? And you know Boy gets cruel when he's hungry."

"Is Boy hungry?" Isabel snivelled. "Is he?"

"Ran clean out of meat yesterday," Papa said, blowing a thick cloud of smoke and making rings with a click of his whiskery jaw. "Had to kill one of your chickens, so that means less eggs for you, and you know it's not the same anyway. Not the same as red meat."

Papa limped around the 4WD and got up into the driver's seat. "But you did good, Girl. You brought him back and everything's going to be fine now. Except you need to tend to Mama. You know she gets the punishment when you do bad things. You're going have to tend to Mama and mend her up again."

There was a loud bang and then a guttural scream. Papa jerked upright, busting his cigarette on the steering wheel. There was another long, pain-stricken howl that was most definitely Boy.

***

Brad ducked as the axe flew through the air, just missing his head. The giant staggered towards him, arms out, hands clutching. The spike from the broken rake handle was sticking out of his stomach. It must have pierced his lower back and gone straight through. Before he lunged again, Brad leapt forward, planting his left foot and levering his weight back to drive his right foot into the giant's gut, propelling his massive frame backwards and causing him to stumble and land heavily on his back with the spike driving through further and drawing another bellowing scream.

Surely he couldn't get up again. He had come at Brad with the axe and tried to murder him. Brad had put the monster on his back three times, the first fall impaling him on the rake handle.

There was a deafening bang from behind Brad. He jumped and spun to see the old man with eyes bulging out of his head and the axe in his raised hands. He fell forward onto the concrete floor of the workshop. His eyes had been bulging because the back of his head was blown off. There was a short, haggard looking old woman left standing there with a smoking twelve-gauge double barrel shotgun in her hands.

Brad met her eyes. Her face was all banged up. She jerked her head, motioning for him to move or something. He got to his feet and backed against the wall of the building.

The giant bellowed again, clutching at the bloody rake handle. The old woman levelled the twelve-gauge and it boomed again, smashing the giant's face and driving him back to the floor, twitching and convulsing.

Brad met the old woman's eyes once more. He raised his hands. She gave him a crooked half smile, dropped the gun and walked away. He cautiously followed to the workshop doorway and watched from there. She entered the house and returned a moment later with a suit case. She tossed that into the back of an F100 pickup and jumped into the driver's seat. The vehicle roared to life and sprayed gravel out through the open gates and onto the road headed for Athol Grove, or wherever.

Brad took a breath. He had forgotten to breathe the past few minutes. He wondered whether there were any more weirdo people in the house or around anywhere; whether he was safe or would need to practice some more Karate, or maybe dodge a bullet or two. There was no movement in the house that he could see. After a moment, flames started licking out one of the windows and it looked like fire had taken hold in a few of the rooms.

He filled his fuel can and hurried back to meet Isabel in the trees. She jumped on him, wrapping herself around him and kissing him wildly.

"Come on. We have to get out of here," he said, pulling her along towards the 4WD.

"What? What happened?"

"They're frigging crazy. That huge dude tried to kill me. Then the old man was having a swing with the axe, and the old woman shot both of them and took off. The house is on fire. We have to get out of here!"

"She shot them? Are they dead?" Isabel was jogging to keep up.

"Dead as you get. Both with their heads blown off."

Brad flipped the fuel cap and tipped the can up. Isabel jumped up into her seat and closed the door. The motor wound a bit before firing up. "I think I might get some more fuel. It should take a while before the cops and fireys show up."

"Uh huh," Isabel grabbed his hand and clutched it in her lap. He glanced at her. She was smiling at him, her big brown eyes wide and shining in the light from the burning house as he pulled up at the fuel tank.

He got out and hooked the hose up to fill the 4WD. It was a thin, gravity fed hose and would take a while. Isabel ran from the vehicle to the cabin they had stayed in. Brad wondered, but figured she must need the toilet or something. She emerged with a big suitcase in one hand and a couple of sacks in her other hand. They were pillow cases stuffed full of something or other, Brad noticed as she loaded them into the back of the vehicle. Well, this lot are all dead, so why the heck not? 

As soon as the 4WD was in gear she claimed his hand, holding it in her lap and smiling with those big brown eyes. "Do you really want to keep me?" she asked sweetly.

He smiled back at her, spraying gravel as he spun out onto the road. "Do I want to keep you?" he said, wiggling his fingers in her lap, feeling into her moist heat and making her squirm. "Oh yeah!"

End