Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Like a good traveling man I walked up to the passenger window, leaned over, shared a handsome smile, and said, “How you doing, guy?”
“I’m doing mighty fine today. You need a ride?” he asked. How many times in the last year had I heard that question? Too many to count if the truth be shared. “Where you headin’?”
“Ohio. Need to visit some relatives.” It was a lie, of course, but a handy one that I had used almost all the time. “Can I ride with you?”
“I’m headin’ that way for ten miles. Door’s open if you want to get in.”
Ten miles were better than no miles. “Sounds fine. I appreciate it.” I removed the sack from my back and held it in my left hand by a strap. The door opened with ease and I hunched inside, placing the sack between my legs.
Before I knew it we were heading west toward Ohio and I was hungry and tired. Nothing would have tasted better than a cold beer. The kid was clearly too young and we couldn’t stop off at a bar. Yeah, he could’ve dropped me off at a Sal’s Pub or The Beer Place, but what fun was it hanging by myself? 3: MJ Fields
7:59 P.M.
Fields of freshly growing corn rolled by on either side as the kid drove just slightly above the speed limit. The sun was beautiful on the horizon and looked sleepy, elegant, and demure.
I couldn’t recall the last time I sat down. Maybe it was somewhere near Pittsburgh. My legs hurt and their muscles were tight. I wanted to slip off my boots and get a good foot rub out of the kid, but maybe he wasn’t into that fetish. Cars and two eighteen-wheelers zoomed past the Frontier. The kid asked, “What’s your name?”
“Copper Sloane.”
“I’m MJ.” No last name was given, not that I needed one. “You hitchhike a lot?”
“Whenever I can.”
“What do you do for a living?” he asked, looking at me across the seat, smiling for some strange reason.
“Carpentry. Like Jesus.”
“You a Christian, Copper?”
“Not lately, but maybe I should be.”
“How old are you?”
“Old enough to know you’re attracted to me.”
“And how old is that?”
“Twenty-eight. How old are you?”
“Old enough to blow you, but only if you want me to.”
I chuckled, playing with him. Who knew he would be attracted to my good looks, into me? The kid was horny, I assumed, and I just happened to have the body for his needs.
I waited a good mile or two before confessing to him that I wanted to shove my dick down the back of his throat. He was a man, even if his age proved otherwise. And I knew what to do with a man, right? Hadn’t I slept with all of my pick-ups, or at lease most of them? Didn’t they all want a part of me—sexually, mentally, or emotionally?
“Tell me about yourself, MJ.”
I listened to him ramble about himself: born and raised in Corsica; worked on tractors for a living; graduated from high school the year before; didn’t plan on attending Clarion College, which was sixteen miles away; wasn’t very good with math; loved his mother more than his abusive father.
“You were abused?” I asked, intrigued with his confession. “Tell me about that.”
“My father beat me and my mother. I think he used to drug her, but I’m not really sure. She’s dead and he’s in jail for first degree murder. He’ll never get out of prison. He’ll die there.”
“You told me you don’t have any siblings. Does this mean that you live alone?”
He nodded. “My parents’ house is a few miles from here.”
“Mind if I see the place?” Why not be pushy? I found through much experience that if you didn’t ask for certain things, you weren’t going to get them. Why bother sitting there in his passenger-seat just waiting to get dumped off in Clarion County, worrying where I would spend the night. But honestly, I really wasn’t the worrying kind, and maybe some of the men I fucked around with knew that about me, but MJ wasn’t one of them.
“Thought you were going to Ohio,” he said.
“I am. But I need a place to stay the night and was hoping you would give me that blowjob. You look kind of hungry for some cock. What do you say?”
He didn’t even have to think about it, turned off Interstate 80 at the Clarion exit, and welcomed me a little more into his private world. 4: Back Woods
8:03 P.M.
He steered the Frontier over a dirt road, flicked the vehicle’s front lights on, and said, “It’s back woods all the way from here.”
He was right, I surmised. The woods were thick with lush vines, ferns, and clumps of oaks and maples. A colorful twilight shifted through the trunks, which caused the view to be eerie and enjoyable. Two medium-size deer ran in front of the truck and MJ slowed down. Not that he was going that fast, of course, since the dirt road was comprised of many rocks and ditches.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone