Migrations (Xcite Romance)

by Grace, K D

  Migrations by K.D. Grace

  ISBN 9781908917294

  This story was first published in Traded Innocence

  by Xcite Books Ltd – 2012

  Copyright © K.D. Grace 2012

  The rights of K.D. Grace to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

  The stories contained within this book are works of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the authors’ imaginations and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Xcite Books, Suite 11769, 2nd Floor, 145-157 St John Street, London EC1V 4PY

  www.xcitebooks.com

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  Chapter One

  ‘IT’S THE ROAD TRIP from hell! I knew it would be. I just knew it!’ Val didn’t bother to speak quietly. After what she’d been through, no one could possibly blame her for losing it and talking to herself. And this was just the beginning! How the hell was she going to survive this little misadventure all the way to Oregon? She glanced quickly over her shoulder as she stepped behind the bathrooms at the rest area, trying desperately to block out the memory of Aunt Rose accusing the elderly gentleman at the vending machine of stealing her change.

  She needed to vent or she’d explode. Once behind the building she turned her face to the wall and banged her head against it. ‘Why me? I’m not a bad person. I never murdered anyone, I always recycle. I volunteer for the autumn fucking bird count. Why?’ She banged her head for emphasis. ‘… the hell.’ Bang bang bang. ‘… Me?’ Bang, bang.

  ‘Sounds like you could use a good wank.’

  She couldn’t have stopped the yelp that escaped her throat if she’d tried, but as she spun around to make a run for the car, what she saw stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Sh!’ A man in a faded blue T-shirt and jeans that were even more faded raised a finger to his lips. It was impossible not to notice that the other hand was occupied, wrapped around the big stiffy that looked as though it had parted his fly like Moses parting the Red Sea, and my, what a staff!

  When he was sure he had her full attention, as if there was any doubt of that, he spoke. ‘Quiet.’ He glanced around quickly. ‘If word gets out,’ he nodded to his stretching cock, ‘everyone’ll be back here getting a little relief from the road. Though, in your case …’ he leaned closer and she could see startling blue eyes peeking over the mirrored shades that slid down his sun-freckled nose, ‘… I reckon you need it more than most.’

  She pressed her back against the wall and moaned, not taking her eyes off the fascinating handwork on his cock. ‘You saw then.’

  He nodded and gave a little grunt and a flutter of sun-bleached lashes as he lifted his balls free from the peek-a-boo squish of his fly. ‘And heard. Hard not to really.’

  ‘Fuck!’ She cursed.

  He chuckled. ‘I never fuck on a first date, but I’m happy to choke the chicken in solidarity.’

  She nodded to his efforts. ‘It really helps?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ he grunted at a particularly rough tugging of his cock. ‘Best kept secret in the world,’ he said following her gaze, giving his balls a smile and a grope as though he’d just realised they were there. ‘The world would be a much better place if everyone would just chill and treat themselves to a little self-love every now and again. Can you imagine the bliss? Go on, indulge yourself.’ He nodded to her trousers. ‘I’d say you could use the relief.’

  She shook her head. ‘I don’t have time. Aunt Rose will be on me like a screaming banshee if she catches me.’

  ‘Of course you’ve got time. If I’m not mistaken, she took her copy of The National Enquirer into the bathroom with her, didn’t she? And your cousin, she is your cousin, isn’t she? Well, she’s on her cell phone with her kids, something about not pouring tomato soup in the toaster.’

  ‘Jesus, you heard?’

  ‘Sweet cheeks, everybody heard,’ he said with a tug on his schlong for emphasis. Trust me; the misdeeds of your cousin’s little angels and the condition of your auntie’s bowels are now common knowledge at this rest stop.’

  ‘Fuck,’ she said again, running a hand through her hair, now beginning to curl around her temples from the unseasonably warm spring heat.

  ‘Really, darlin’,’ he nodded again to her trousers. ‘It’ll make you feel better. I won’t look if you don’t want me to.’

  Maybe it was just a testament to how desperate she was, or how loopy she had already become, but she opened her fly and stuck her hand down inside her panties. When she made contact, her breath caught and her body gave a little involuntary jerk.

  Without missing a beat, he gave her an appreciative nod. ‘There now. That’s better, isn’t it? You wet?’

  She nodded. ‘How’d you know?’

  ‘No surprise really. Anger and frustration can often be a turn-on. Well not a turn-on per-se, but the body compensates for the stress in the best way it knows to make itself feel better.’ He shrugged. ‘Plus watching someone else handle their junk usually will do the trick too.’

  ‘Sh!’ she hissed. ‘Don’t talk, just touch it, and let me watch, and relieve my stress.’

  He did as she asked, easing his jeans down enough that she could see the lovely straight lines of his hips perfectly balanced by the muscular swell of his ass-cheeks, which clenched and relaxed with each thrust. ‘What else?’ he grunted.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘What else do you want to see? Not that I’m an exhibitionist or anything,’ his breath accelerated noticeably, ‘but I’m sympathetic to your circumstances, and right now this is so working for me.’

  It wasn’t doing too badly for her either, as she slipped two fingers in between her swell and began to scissor them while her thumb went to work on her clit. ‘Turn around a little,’ she breathed. ‘I want to see your ass.’

  He did as she asked, half bending over to give her an exquisite view, and she felt herself gush, as he spread his ass-cheeks. ‘Oh my!’ she gasped.

  ‘You like that, do you? You wanna see my back hole?’

  ‘Oh God, yes.’

  ‘And you’d like me to finger it while I wank, wouldn’t you?’ He didn’t wait for her answer. And he really didn’t need to. Almost as though he knew what was going on in her panties, he stuck a thick middle finger into his mouth and sucked it until it was wet and shiny with his saliva. For a moment, she found what he was doing to his finger with his yummy mouth almost as hot as what he was doing to his cock. Through all of his efforts, his eyes, peeking over the mirrored sun shades, never left hers.

  Watching her over his shoulder, making sure he was at just the right angle for her to see what was going on in front and behind, he bent over still further and spread his legs so that the twitch of his asshole was centre stage. With a tight breath released between his teeth, almost like he’d touched something hot, he eased his finger in to his back grip. ‘Ah, that’s nice,’ he breathed. ‘Such a tight fit, and my asshole’s so sensitive.’ Then he shoved it all the way in. His eyelids fluttered, his ass cheeks clenched and he positively growled and bucked against himself, tugging at his penis as though it were in serious need of subjugation.

  Her panties were beyond wet, and she now gave herself the whole hand hump, four fingers shoving and wriggling inside her wet snatch while her palm exerted exquisite, almost painful pressure against her mons, which put the squ
eeze on her burgeoning clit. She shoved the other hand inside her blouse and manoeuvred her left breast free from her bra, at least free enough that she could knead it while pinching and stroking the nipple until it was tight and engorged and raw.

  ‘What else,’ he gasped.

  ‘I want to see you come.’ Her voice was a harsh whisper, and she felt the blush crawl up her face that she would even ask such a thing. And yet, her pussy clenched against her fingers at the thought, and her clit surged. ‘I know you’re close. You look like you’re about to burst, so go ahead. I want to see you unload on the ground like the nasty man that you are. I want to watch you spurt.’ Jesus, what was the matter with her, talking like some street whore, but even as she spoke, she felt wet slippery approval from her cunt.

  ‘Your wish is my command,’ he grunted. Three hard jerks balanced by the finger digging at his asshole, and he shot thick white streamers of semen across the well-manicured grass.

  ‘Valareee! Valerie Louise, where are you?’ The shrill voice of Aunt Rose broke the mood.

  ‘Oh Jesus! Oh God!’ Val jerked her wet hand from her panties and stared at it as though it were a total surprise to her while she shoved her tit back into her bra then tried to close her fly with one hand.

  Wank Man handed her a pristine white hankie and she frantically wiped her fingers. Before she could wonder what to do with the hankie, he snatched it away.

  ‘I’ll take that,’ he said, as Aunt Rose bellowed for her niece again, this time loud enough to wake the dead in the next county. ‘I’m a frequent wanker,’ he lifted the hankie to his nose and inhaled deeply before stuffing it back in his pocket. ‘I’m always happy for some nice props.’ Then the smile slipped from his face. ‘But you didn’t come.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ she whispered between her teeth. ‘So now I’m horny as hell as well as stressed out. And I have to somehow make it all the way to Oregon with at least a little sanity intact.’

  Aunt Rose bellowed again.

  ‘Two words,’ he said, stuffing his still heavy cock nimbly back into his jeans and adjusting the tell-tale bulge to sit comfortably against his groin.

  ‘Two words?’ She breathed.

  ‘Car engines.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Car engines, sweet cheeks. Car engines are nothing more than built-in vibes. Just shift around on the seat.’ He demonstrated with a slow undulation of his hips that did nothing to ease the road rage in her cunt. ‘And then when you find the sweet spot, open your legs and let the car do the rest.’ He spread his stance until he reminded her of a cowboy who’d been in the saddle too long. Then he offered her a wicked smile. ‘Your aunt will never be the wiser.’

  ‘Valerie, there you are!’ Aunt Rose erupted from around the corner. ‘What in the world are you doing back here? I was beginning to worry that some pervert had abducted you.’

  ‘Birds,’ Valerie managed. ‘Some meadow larks, and when I came around here, Mr –’ She turned around to find Wank Man gone. The only trace of him was the white streaks of jizz on the grass, but Aunt Rose didn’t notice that. She grabbed her niece with the hard grip that Val and her cousin, Sally, jokingly referred to as the claw, and tugged her back toward the parking lot.

  ‘You and your silly birds. We’ll never make it to Portland in time for my poor Harry’s surgery with you stopping to look at everything that has feathers. Now come on. We’ve got a long way to go. You’re walking funny, dear. Are you chafing?’ Aunt Rose’s voice wafted loud and clear across the rest area and the wheat field beyond. ‘I certainly would be if I wore those scratchy denim jeans you young people all wear, and in this heat too. Anything that tight against your crotch can’t be good. I have some talcum powder if you need it. A little bit of that between your thighs and some decent cotton panties, not those stringy little thongy things you girls wear now. One hundred per cent cotton, that’s what you need. That and a little talc and you’ll feel right as rain.’

  The teenagers at the vending machine shot them a curious glance and sniggered. Two elderly women coming out of the rest room looked up, then quickly looked away, pretending not to have noticed Aunt Rose’s personal comfort lecture. Just then Sally, still on her cell phone, fell into step next to them telling her husband not to feed the dog bacon because it gives him diarrhoea and the last time he’d pooped in the middle of the children’s sand box.

  Val mentally cringed, as they got into the car under the surreptitious stare of everyone at the rest area. As she belted herself in, her pussy twitched with nearly painful need, then her stomach clenched as Aunt Rose pulled a bottle of antihistamine spray out of her enormous bag, shoved it up each nostril and sniffed hard enough to inhale a fencepost. It was going to be a very long trip.

  Chapter Two

  ‘YOU SURE THIS IS the right road?’ Aunt Rose asked.

  ‘I’m sure.’ Val white-knuckled the steering wheel, hoping bared teeth passed for a smile.

  ‘If you say so. Doesn’t look right to me.’ Aunt Rose pressed her nose to the window. ‘There’s that Hell’s Angel again. This is the third time we’ve passed him. I don’t like it. See this article?’ She shoved her copy of The National Enquirer at Val, who pushed it aside so she could see the road. ‘They think bikers murdered that hot-shot businessman.’

  ‘Tip Beranger?’ Sally chimed in from the back seat.

  Aunt Rose nodded. ‘He was last seen going into a diner that’s a known biker hang-out. They found his car but no sign of the body.’

  ‘Excuse me if I’m not sympathetic,’ Val said. ‘He’s responsible for some really nasty clear-cuts in Idaho and Wyoming. He’s always in trouble with the EPA, but they just slap his wrist. His kind never get what they deserve.’

  ‘I think he did this time,’ Aunt Rose said. ‘They suspect the bikers cut him into little pieces and scattered him over some bird reserve near Gruid. Not far from here. We’re not going there are we?’

  ‘Wish we were.’ Val sighed. ‘The sandhill cranes migrate through there. It’s a little late in the migration, but if you know where to find them, there are probably still some hangers on who haven’t flown north yet.’

  ‘You should be giving your poor mother grandchildren instead of wasting your time off in some barbaric place every chance you get chasing down birds. Must cost you a fortune,’ Aunt Rose said.

  ‘It’s a part of my studies,’ Val replied.

  ‘You’re over 30. You’re too old to be studying. You should start looking for a good husband to take care of you. God knows you’ll need somebody to pay the bills.’

  Val rolled her eyes. ‘I pay my bills just fine, Aunt Rose.’

  Sally looked over Aunt Rose’s shoulder at the tabloid. ‘I heard they suspect cannibalism with this Beranger guy.’

  Aunt Rose wrinkled her nose. ‘Wouldn’t put it past them, eating the evidence. You’re sure we’re on the right road?’

  Sally reached over the seat and cranked the volume of the country station Val had been out-voted on. ‘That biker was at the rest area.’ She squinted at the man on the Harley as they passed.

  ‘Oh dear Lord!’ Aunt Rose jerked away from the window and laid a hand against an abundantly lipsticked mouth. ‘Did you see that? He waved. I think he’s stalking us. We should take a different road.’

  ‘We’ve passed each other half a dozen times,’ Val spoke around the twitch at the corner of her mouth that had mysteriously developed after her first hour trapped in the car with her relatives. ‘He’s probably just being friendly.’

  ‘Says here police are checking anyone on a motorcycle for information.’ Aunt Rose glanced over her shoulder at the Harley now falling behind. ‘I wonder if they’ve talked to him.’ She shook her niece’s arm. ‘Can’t you drive faster?’

  Val ground her teeth and stepped on the gas. Since Aunt Rose didn’t drive and refused to fly, Val got shanghaied into taking her to Oregon to be with her son for his surgery. It was just a nose job, but Aunt Rose wanted to see her angel one last time before she d
ied. By Val’s count, this was the fourth time Aunt Rose had drafted naïve relatives for her pre-demise pilgrimages to see her Harry. Sally volunteered for the ordeal – an expedition Lewis and Clark would have fled in terror. But Sally did have the kids from hell, so Val understood her willingness to make the journey. A two-week purgatory must be a welcome respite.

  Aunt Rose thumbed through the paper. Sally dug through her condo-sized handbag. Something just short of suicidal droned on the radio. This was as good as it was likely to get. Before Val could actually enjoy the brief peace, she noticed the flashing lights in the rear-view mirror just as the cop gave a short, polite burst of his siren. Great! Just what she needed. Cursing to herself, she turned off the radio and pulled over.

  The officer approached with a bit of a swagger. He squinted in the window. ‘Speed limit’s 65, Ma’am. I clocked you at 79. ’Fraid that’s a 60 dollar fine round here. I’m gonna need your licence and registration.’

  She handed over her documents. He took them and returned to his car.

  ‘I knew you were driving too fast,’ Aunt Rose hissed.

  Sally snapped open a small compact and checked her makeup. ‘I’ve never had a speeding ticket. With three kids, I have to be careful – precious cargo.’

  Val resisted the urge to gag.

  ‘Not even out five hours and you get us arrested,’ Aunt Rose growled. ‘We won’t need a hotel. We’ll be spending the night in jail with the whoors and felons.’ Aunt Rose rubbed her chest between the stout summits of her brassiere-shaped breasts. ‘After all this, you’ll probably have to put me in the hospital next to poor Harry, if I make it that far.’

  ‘It’s just a traffic ticket!’ Val’s knuckles ached against the steering wheel.

  ‘Look.’ Sally pointed out the window. ‘It’s that Hell’s Angel again. The cop’s motioning him over too.’ She practically bounced off the seat.