Red-headed Hitchhiker

Morgan, the 28-year-old lass was named after her grandfather, stood staring down at the open suitcase. Her eyes were red and moist from crying. For the third time, she mentally went through the items she had packed. Last and most importantly were the $30 in quarters, the $10 bill in her pocket and the five condoms, with one in her back pocket.

She knew it was going to be cold hitchhiking in November. Her dungarees were lined and baggy. She wanted to hide her three best assets, her wide hips and overly ample ass. She picked up the cap off the bed and placed it snugly on the third, her shoulder length, curly and vibrant red hair. Morgan was not going looking. She just wanted to get home in Oklahoma.

Oscar, the sailor she had been living with in Norfolk, the one responsible for her sore shoulder and abdomen would not come looking for her. He was deathly afraid of her mother who had threatened to put buckshot in his ass and bury him in a field if she ever saw him again. She was tired of men, especially the ones who beat up on women.

She pulled the top down on the suitcase, snapping the closures, picked it up and walked out of the apartment. She caught a bus, which would let her off near a junction of highways and interstates headed west.

Day two found Morgan sitting under the large canopy of a gas station just off I-40. It was 3 o'clock and it would be dark by 6:30. The three rides to get her this far had cost her one hand job and a condom-protected blowjob. The third had been a nice, older, gentleman who asked nothing of her, confirming that there were still a few decent people left in the world. But, in truth she very seldom attracted good people. She now carried a cardboard sign reading, Oklahoma.

She sat on a picnic table dozing, when an older woman approached her.

"My dad and I are headed up near Little Rock." She said, snapping Morgan back to consciousness. "That will get you a little bit closer."

"Thank you! Yes. That will help a lot." She said jumping up and grabbing her case.

She followed the woman back to an obvious antique truck restored with loving care. But, the cab of the black model A-Ford, she would learn presently about both, was tight. She briefly studied the very tall old man across the truck in bib-overalls pumping gas. The woman held the door for her and she entered the truck positioning herself in the middle. The woman followed shutting the door. When the old man lumbered into the truck, Morgan felt she knew how a sardine might feel.

"I'm Carla." The woman announced. "This here is my old man..... my father....... Hank."

"Good to meet you two. I'm Morgan."

Father and daughter were not very talkative. Morgan asked about the truck, which loosened up the old man for a bit, but soon everything was quiet again. They showed no interest in her, where she was coming from or where she was headed. Morgan again dozed and fought her claustrophobic feeling.

"Sugar, we live about an hour off the interstate."

"What! Excuse me." Morgan snapped back to reality.

Carla repeated her first words and then continued, "if you prefer not to be on the road in the dark you could stay with us and Hank or I will get you back to the interstate early in the morning. After a good breakfast of course!"

"Thank you. I would like that." Morgan replied.

In the dark cab of the truck, Morgan did not see the slight smile cross Hank's face.

An hour off the highway and through many hills and dales........ mountains actually, they pulled into a driveway and in front of a seemingly run down, unpainted slat-board, smallish house.

"Let Hank take your suitcase sweetie."

Carla and Morgan walked to the house and climbed the three wooden steps, crossed the small porch to the door. Carla unlocked it and they went in leaving the door open to the cold night air. A blast a very warm air welcomed them but was overwhelmed by the cold air from outside. Hank soon arrived carrying both arms full of bags and Morgan's suitcase. He closed the door and the small space became quite warm again.

"We haven't had supper yet." Carla said, as she unloaded the groceries. "I'm sure you must be hungry."

"Yes ma'am. I am."

"Good. I'm going to run in and take a quick shower as soon as I put our leftover ham in the oven to warm."

Morgan sat alone at the small kitchen table. Hank had disappeared. Carla was showering. Not too many minutes passed before Carla returned to the kitchen wearing a heavy robe, her short salt-and-pepper colored hair damp.

"Run on in there, sugar, and take a shower." Carla said. "Hank won't be back until I call him for supper. You can't possibly have a robe in that small suitcase. I hung one on the door for you. It might be a little long."

Morgan welcomed the opportunity to take a shower and hurried to do so. Going through the obvious bedroom, she noted a dilapidated full sized bed against one wall. She wondered what was behind the other two doors off the kitchen. After her shower, she thought about putting on panties and bra, but knowing she had only two clean pair she declined, figuring that the robe on the door was heavy enough and it had a belt. It was certainly warm enough, even if she wanted to go to bed naked.

She found three glasses of iced tea, plus plates etc. on the table when she returned to the kitchen.

"We should I sit Carla?"

"Right where you are will be fine." Carla replied.

Morgan reached for her tea and downed the entire class. Seeing the tea container on the counter she took the liberty to refill it. She sat down.

A few minutes longer, then, Carla pushed a button on a small white box sitting on the counter.

"Hank, supper is ready." She barked into the box.

Hank came through one of the doors a few minutes later, his arms loaded with firewood. He carried the small logs like they were nothing to him. After carefully sitting the wood in a corner near the stove, he moved, lumbered really, to a chair at the table and sat down.

"You girls cleaned up I see." He said in a deep baritone voice. "You're a pretty girl Morgan."

"My dad as an eye for the ladies." Carla said. "He is nearing 70 and can still carry 100 pound sack of potatoes like it's feathers.

"10 years ago I could carry two." He added with no tone of bragging.

Morgan pondered what "having an eye for the ladies" and carrying a "100 pound sack of potatoes" had in common.

Supper was soon finished. Morgan had deemed it delicious and helped Carla clean up. Hank had disappeared again, to shower Morgan figured as she heard the water running in the bathroom. The two women sat drinking coffee and talking, with Morgan doing most of the talking about her childhood in Oklahoma, her traveling around the country doing odd jobs, and her recent problems. Carla, not having a lot of people to talk to, was appreciative and listened attentively, asking questions and nodding her head when appropriate.

Hank soon reappeared wearing shorts and a white undershirt. Morgan could not help but notice his strong muscular shoulders and legs. After drinking water at the sink, he stopped by the table.

"You coming to bed Carla?" He queried.

"Not right now dad." She said with annoyance. "Morgan and I are talking. I'll be in soon."

Carla had her head lowered, her eyes lifting to look at Morgan, her mouth pulled tight.

"The incestuous bastard." Morgan thought, and it must've showed, to Carla, in her face as the old man walked into the known bedroom.

"Don't judge us too hard." Carla began, being her time to talk, "I married one of the hired hands back in the time. I've been on this farm all my life. Dan, my husband, passed away about sixteen years ago. Mom was able to keep dad out of my bedroom until she passed away 14 years ago next week. You would think the old codger wouldn't be able to get it up, but he gets it up just fine. Good genes I suppose. He came to my bedroom two months after mom passed. I tried to fight him off the first time. He was determined and I finally just let him take me. Dad was always envious of Dan's and my sex life. I guess I have dad's genes, cause after a bit, I did not mind dad coming to my bedroom, heaven forgive me, I still enjoy a good stiff one every now and then. After a bit, it just seemed natural. I share his bed most nights.

Morgan sat dumbfounded and speechless. She understood the principle "you do what you have to, to survive".

"He is almost 70. How old are you?" Was all Morgan could think to ask, hiding her amazement at the confession!

"I'm just 52. I haven't aged well, I suppose." Carla replied, self-consciously rubbing the back of her hair, as if straightening it.

"Your a lovely woman." Morgan lied, reaching to place her hand on Carla's leg in an effort to comfort her.

They talked another hour.

"We usually retire early around here." Carla finally said. "Come on and I'll show you to your bed." It was 9 o'clock.

Carla led the way and opened the door to the other bedroom. She cut on a small lamp on a dressing table. Morgan immediately saw that the other full-sized bed was just as dilapidated, but it was warm and dry so it did not matter. Morgan was fully expecting Carla to say good night, but instead she moved to stand in front of her and reached to brush her red curls by her right ear.

"You're a real cutie." Carla said, smiling at Morgan. "I bet under this robe I would find red hair between your legs. You don't shave it do you?" She asked with concern in her tone.

"No ma'am I don't."

"May I have a peek?" She asked, but did not bother to wait for an answer as she reached for the cloth belt.

If anyone, Morgan was expecting Hank to make a run at her. She was not expecting Carla. A pessimist by nature, in the back of her mind she was wondering what the real cost of a warm bed was going to be. She watched as Carla began to untie the robe belt, let it drop, hanging in its loops. Still, the robe remained mostly closed and Carla pulled it open with both hands, just enough to reveal Morgan's frontal female attributes. Morgan remained motionless.

Carla studied the young girl for long moments, her head raised slightly, a slight smile on her face.

"We have had other guest but it's been maybe a year or more. You are one solid little lady. Perky breasts and pray tell nipples that are quite firm. Are you cold my child?"

"No. Not at all." Morgan replied, annoyed with herself for not being uncomfortable with her situation, her hardened nipples showing obvious arousal.

Carla untied her own robe, pushed it off her shoulders and stood naked, continuing, "no. I didn't think so. You understand the ways of the world." She gazed down. "And such a thick bush between your legs. I am no match for you child, but I have the same equipment and mine are quite sensitive, how about yours?"

"They can be in the right hands." Morgan replied, saying what needed to be said. She truly did not know if she was in danger. At this moment, sexual arousal was taking the forefront of any other thoughts. Morgan had enjoyed a number of female sexual encounters in her past.

Carla, in Morgan's view, literally, was quite correct. Her heavy large breast hung down considerably. Her large nipples showed little firmness though Morgan was sure the woman was aroused. She had quite a bit of tummy and her bush was thin. Her mound was puffy. Morgan slid her own robe off her shoulders and moved to make frontal contact with Carla, reaching around her to grip the woman's considerable and fleshy buttocks. Not that she was interested in feeling Carla's ass or any other part of Carla's body, but it was not in Morgan's nature not to give her all to sexual interaction.

Carla did the same. She sighed a huge sigh of delight.

"Your ass is very nice." She said seductively.

Carla withdrew and walked to the right-hand side of the bed. When she entered the bed the bedsprings showed their annoyance, causing Morgan to flinch slightly, knowing any noise would clearly be heard through the walls. Which, asked the question, would Hank approve of his daughter and another woman having sex.

Morgan entered the bed and accepted Carla's kiss as their bodies intertwined with each other. Carla could not be considered fat but she was definitely overweight and apparently the work on the farm had not toned her body. But, Morgan figured maybe Carla's workload was mostly defined to the home. They certainly seemed to eat well.

Morgan returned Carla's passionate kisses and disinterestedly roamed over the woman's body. Morgan knew well the points of pleasure and sought them out, spending time making Carla moan and escalating the older woman's arousal.

As time passed, Morgan was finding it difficult to contain her own arousal. It was not the first time Carla had teased her clit, but the present touch caused Morgan to lift her body up and over in a dominant posture partially mounting Carla. Morgan felt a finger push into her pussy. Morgan, giving as good as she got, shoved her middle finger into Carla's pussy, causing the heavy woman to lift her ass off the bed.

In Carla's mind, Morgan was not the dominant one. To put the young girl in her place, Carla rolled Morgan off of her and onto her chest. She moved as quickly as she could to straddle the girl showing her who was boss. The bedsprings creaked loudly! Anytime they moved the bedsprings creaked loudly.

Pinning the girl for a few moments, Carla began kissing her shoulders and neck. She slowly moved down Morgan's back until she reached her buttocks where she kissed and viciously nibbled on her ample buttocks.

Morgan tried to subdue her yelps from the woman's nipping teeth. True to her redheaded roots and myth of tenacity, Morgan found her moment and levered Carla off of her ass.

"You bitch!" She seethed, but kept her volume to a whisper. "I'll teach you not to bite!"

Morgan jumped to latch onto Carla's right nipple. She gripped the large but not tall nipple between her teeth. She began to compress it waiting for Carla to cry uncle

"Harder! You redheaded tart!" Carla taunted.

Morgan felt if she bit any harder she would bring blood and eased the compression, then released the nipple, sitting tall above the woman and smiling at her.

"Come here and snuggle!" Carla said humorously, smiling back. "You're a real game bird, you are! Put that pussy over my face.

As Morgan maneuvered around, Clara slid further down into the bed. Morgan straddled her head. Carla reached to grab Morgan's buttocks. Clara stared up at the red bushed, thick-lipped pussy.

"You've got one hell of a twat!" Clara declared, bringing the fingers of her right hand to toy and spread the pussy lips.

She put her lips to Morgan's pussy kissing it tenderly, causing Morgan to moan. Clara began to pleasure the young girl orally.

Known to one, unknown by the other, Hank pumped his cock as he spied through a rather large hole behind a picture of their homestead taken from a high vantage point, but was really a one-way glass.

Morgan was not a cock sucker but had had her pussy eaten many times by a man and always lying on her back. Straddling Carlos face, her stance wide, her pussy unobstructed, the older woman was proving very adept at pleasuring a pussy. Morgan did not try to stifle her moans. When her eyes were not closed, she stared at the fussy mound of the 52-year-old woman.

Morgan did not find Carla's pussy appealing at all, especially to put her lips to, but when one is consumed by lust what's appealing and what is not becomes blurred. Morgan soon had a burning desire to taste the woman's pussy so close to her face. She pushed her face between Carlos legs.

When Morgan put her face to her crotch, Carla lifted her knees slightly and spread her stance considerably to give the young girl access. Hands gripped her ass and she felt Morgan's tongue exploring her pussy. Not knowing whether the young girl would join or not she was now overjoyed and put her lips over Morgan's clit sucking on it firmly.

Morgan lifted her face from Carla's pussy to gasp loudly. Then she sought to return the favor, finding the woman's clit and sucking on it with joy. It was rewarded in much the same way and Morgan heard the woman gasp audibly. A hand smacked her ass hard.

Both women are sopping wet as they scrubbed their faces into their perspective pussies.

Morgan felt the tongue enter her, both, surprising her and fanning the flames of lust. Her nails bit into Carla's buttocks and she had to stop ravishing the woman's pussy, her breaths coming in labored gasps.

Carla shoved Morgan's ass to the side, maneuvering from under her, surprising Morgan as she left the bed and rushed to the nearby dresser, pulling open a drawer and retrieving a rather long dildo tapered at both ends.

Carla kneed herself onto the bed, spread her legs and pushed half of the dildo into her pussy, her body visibly shaking. Morgan needed no guidance or instructions as she maneuvered herself into place bringing her legs up high and wide. Carla placed the other end of the dildo to Morgan's pussy and slid it into her. She dropped down on top of Morgan and the two women embraced as their hips and ass began to do what came naturally. It was not perfect but at the moment neither woman cared.

Hank was mesmerized by what he was seeing and was yanking hard on his cock. It was a handful.

"Dammit! It's not working! I told him it wouldn't." Carla exclaimed, decoupling from Morgan and leaving the bed once more.

Morgan looked around the room searching. Her attention went back to Carla coming towards the bed with a strap on dildo, trying to attach it.

"Let me do that! " Morgan barked, leaving the bed and taking the dildo from Carla. "Get your ass back in bed!" She was mad at Carla's departure, leaving her shaking with desire.

Morgan studied the strap-on for a brief moment. It took no time at all to get it strapped into place. She studied the rubber cock, estimating it to be rather average, maybe 6 inches but rather thin. Carla was waiting for her and assumed a most common position as Morgan moved in between her legs, put the rubber cock to her and rather roughly shoved it home.

"You're not getting your ass up again anytime soon!" She said sternly.

Morgan gathered Carla up in her arms like she herself had so many times been gathered up. She began to fuck Carla with a stabbing quick paced rhythm.

"Oh! That's better. A whole lot better." Carla exclaimed.

"You like that! Or, do you just like having a soft warm body to touch while you're being fucked." She hoped that Hank was indeed watching and able to hear. "Has he got a small cock? Maybe the old geezer tires out a little bit too quick or can't keep it up long enough?"

"Morgan! Shut the hell up and fuck me. You're gonna...............

The door opened causing both women to freeze and look towards the door. Hank stood there like a giant staring at the two women with a smile on his face, a smile and an erection that shocked Morgan.

"Sweet Jesus." Her mind shouted. "It's got to be 10 inches long and as thick................. damn, it's thick!"

Carla pushed Morgan from her and rolled out of the bed on the door side.

"Hank, go back to your room! We are not finished in here!" Carla pleaded, pushing on a chest that would not budge. "She didn't mean anything! It was just sex talk."

"Keep your ass in that bed if you know what's good for you!" Morgan heard his booming voice and pulled her feet back onto the bed. "And take that damn play cock off!"

"Don't hurt her Hank! You made the last one bleed! She threatened to............."

"All right woman! But enough of this lesbian shit. A man has come a calling." Hank said, then looked at Morgan. "Get used to the idea little lady."

"You are one hell of a looking woman." Hank continued, as Carla made a beeline for the dresser again. "A hellva great ass!"