Dark Fantasies

by T West

  “Are we going to hang out tomorrow night too?” she asked, cheekily. As Gordon gazed at her, she knew the answer. Christie decided she was in no rush, after all.

  -----

  STRETCHED BY A STRANGER

  By

  Tess West

  L ong drives are something that a person either loves, or hates. Some people love them on certain days, hate them on other days. Generally, Carla Lucas loved long drives. To her it was a time to get away, to forget about the stresses of real life and throw herself into something that was both low effort, and decently distracting.

  Carla was driving to her father’s house in Maine. It was several hours from her own home, but it was Father’s Day weekend and she wanted to be there to spend time with her old man. Carla herself didn’t have any children, not yet – but who knew what the future held. Truthfully, she was glad she hadn’t gotten pregnant just yet, as her life would certainly have taken a very different turn. But surprisingly she’d been responsible and level-headed throughout her youth, something that her parents had feared might never happen.

  She glanced down at her hand on the steering wheel. There was a large and faded black tattoo on the back of her left hand, right near the fold between her index finger and thumb. It depicted an octopus in astonishing detail, though some of it had been lost over the years. Sea creatures had always been her favorite, in particular the octopus, and so she’d gotten it on a whim one day when she was 19. Suffice to say, her old man hadn’t been too happy when she’d come home with that. They had good reason for fearing her judgment skills. But now at 26 years old, she had a mind of her own and didn’t much care what people thought.

  A long, sunny highway stretched out before Carla. The sun was gleaming high in the sky, and she let herself bask in its warm rays. She had a baseball cap tucked onto her head and over her hair. It shaded her face well and kept things visible on the road, no matter which angle the sun was shining from.

  The road was decently empty, which happened when driving on the highway for long enough. This area was rather rugged and ‘farmy’, as Carla liked to call it. Every few miles she’d fly by fields of corn or a pasture with grazing cows or horses. They flicked their tails lazily in the afternoon heat, chewing morosely on the grass beneath their hooves.

  “What a wonderful day,” Carla said to herself, fighting the urge to hum. She didn’t really know why she was in such good spirits – it had come out of nowhere. Sure, she was happy to be driving and going up to Maine, happy to be seeing her dad for the first time in months, but this was more than that. She just felt good.

  Carla was a slim girl, and always had been. She was of average height and had tanned skin from working outside in the sun. She did lawn care, running a private business and servicing countless clients from the surrounding area. The result was a deep and near constant tan, even in the winter months when business let up a bit. It seemed like her farmer’s tan never went away though – she could roll up her sleeves in mid-January and still see a faded line. She had a soft, diamond-shaped face, with a few freckles sprinkled across her nose, and her eyes were blue-green and bright.

  She took her hat off and rested it on the passenger seat of her car, running her fingers through her hair. A thin white streak of hair was smack dab in the center of her forehead, and had been there for as long as she could remember. She remembered children being very curious about it in junior high, and even more so in primary school.

  The road was mostly still empty, except for a pickup truck about ten feet behind her. It was black with tinted windows, so she couldn’t see inside. For some reason it gave her a bad feeling. She watched it steadily in her rearview mirror, and it never wavered from behind her. Over the next ten minutes they passed by several exits, and the truck never turned off to take them. It didn’t speed up to pass her either, though it seemed like she was going slower than the driver would like, considering he or she kept creeping up too close behind.

  Finally, Carla’s own exit came up. She signaled and started pulling to the right onto the off-ramp. Looking behind her, she saw with a jolt that the truck was also pulling off the highway.

  “C’mon, Carla,” she scolded herself. “There’s nothing weird about this. You’re just being paranoid, girl. Relax.”

  She decided to give it one final test. As she drove, she scanned the side of the road for any sort of gas station or shop, anything at all. Unfortunately, she was still kind of in the middle of nowhere, and nothing popped up. She continued driving along in the direction of her dad’s house. The truck followed her along steadily, always activating its blinker seconds after she had flicked on her own.

  Finally, there one was. A gas station appeared as she turned a bend. She hastily pulled in and parked the car, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder to see if the truck had done the same as she walked inside. She made straight for the bathroom.

  Once inside the bathroom, Carla took a stall. She shuffled inside and shut the door behind her with a resounding click of the lock. She peed, and as soon as she had finished she flushed and buttoned up, ready to open the door of her stall and leave. Moments later, the bathroom door opened again.

  Carla swallowed nervously.

  Heavy footsteps followed, slow and measured. They paced down to one end of the bathroom and came back again, finally stopping directly in front of Carla’s stall.

  With her heart pounding hard and fast in her chest, Carla tried to make sense of this. Look, girl, you’re just being paranoid. Relax, relax, she thought to herself. But there was denying the feeling that she had just stepped into a real life horror movie.

  Two minutes passed, and she was growing increasingly inpatient. Look, I can either sit here all day long, or for however long it takes for him to leave. Or, I can just be brave and open this goddam stall and walk out of here. Maybe he’s gone already and I just didn’t hear him.

  She took a deep breath, reached out and unlocked the door. The click sounded incredibly loud, echoing throughout the entire public bathroom.

  She placed her hand on the cold paint of the door, and slowly pushed it open. What she saw before her filled her with both desire and wonder.

  Standing directly in front of her as though etiquette and common manners meant nothing, was a big, beefy trucker. He stood completely motionless, staring quietly at her with big, brown eyes. He was wearing a grubby wife beater vest and a pair of faded blue jeans. A pale yellow trucker’s cap rested on his head and big black boots were on his feet. Lean, heavy muscles covered his arms and upper chest. He looked like a huge, beastly stud. Carla stood still, her gaze locked, almost hypnotized.

  This was the man of Carla’s dreams.

  The trucker stepping forward brought her back to Earth. She wrestled with her fear and stepped forward too, ready to see what the man had in mind. The trucker moved faster, walking into the stall until he was right before her. He reached out and gripped Carla by the hips. His grip was tight. He wanted something from her, that was for sure. She opened her mouth, but before she got the chance to make a sound the trucker was all over her.

  She felt stunned as the man clutched her firmly in his enormous arms. Her panicked gasps soon washed out into nothing. For there was nobody else now - just her and the stranger.

  Suddenly, the trucker sat her down on the closed lid of the toilet, and still relaxed and calm, placed a huge hand on her brow. Amazingly, this soothed her. Carla had never felt a feeling as deep as this. She felt calm, relaxed, at one.

  She gazed up, looking into the face of the man. The man looked back at her, protective and peaceful. He leant nearer, his face almost touching hers. He ripped at her clothes, tearing them off till they hung from her body. Carla’s underwear was gone, hanging on by a thread. She was pretty much naked except for her sneakers and socks. The big man stood up straight and unzipped his jeans.

  His cock sprung up, erect and throbbing. The thing was massive. Although Carla didn't have a ruler handy to put to it, even if she did she was p
retty sure the ruler wouldn’t be long enough. It pressed against her face and cheeks, and rubbed up and down against her skin.

  She leaned her neck forward and began to suck and lick at the base of the man’s throbbing shaft, swirling her tongue around it, sending quaking rushes of excitement up and down the man’s spine. The trucker seemed pleased with her efforts as he adjusted his stance slightly, his thick thighs flexing under the denim of his jeans. Carla moved her way along the shaft, her hot tongue lapping at every last inch as she made her way to the tip. She flicked her tongue around the ridge of the man’s big helmet, before placing her lips on the shiny head and giving it a good hard suck, looking up into his eyes as she did so. She stretched her jaw wide to get the head inside her mouth, and the trucker helped her along by grabbing her and moving her up and down the length of his cock, the fat head hitting the back of her throat and making her gag. The trucker picked up speed and moved her on and off his cock, letting her hungry mouth clear the tip before ramming her back on his pole, pounding her tight mouth. He let her off his cock for a breath of air, and she was immediately presented with the trucker’s big balls, which shifted and pulsed right near to her face. Carla ducked her head low and keenly sucked on the heavy sack, taking a nut in her mouth one at a time, feeling the hot seed inside throb against her tongue. The trucker slapped his meat off her face, smearing her with his warm pre-cum, little trickles running down her face and decorating her cute features. She went back to the head of the cock and gave him five very strong and passionate sucks.

  The man raised her up and pulled her against his hulking frame, bear hugging her. Carla couldn't help but sniff his musky scent as he did so, the manly smell heightening her arousal no end.

  The trucker grabbed her ass and lifted her up, effortlessly raising her above his cock. She looked into the most lustful face she'd ever seen. He wanted to nail her, that much she knew. And she was going to enjoy herself in the process.

  Carla felt the head of the cock enter her. It felt enormous, but she relaxed and let him push inside. The man went slowly at first, letting her get used to the sheer size of it, the tight walls of her pussy clamping down on the wide girth. She gasped as the sensation flooded through her. The man was ridiculously well hung, and she wasn't sure if she could handle it. But she sure wanted to try.

  The trucker thrust back and forth, screwing her carefully but forcefully, each drive taking him deeper. It felt incredible. He picked up speed, impaling her harder. Carla opened her mouth and screamed. She could feel it building up. “Jesus,” she panted, pounding her waist down hard against him. “Jesus frickin’ Christ!”

  Closing her eyes, Carla’s hand made its way between her legs, eager to rub her clit, as her fingers circled her hard nub. She placed her other hand on the trucker’s hips and pulled him closer. She smelt his scent again and it sent tremors through her body. Carla looked straight at him. The trucker looked back at her, a ravenous look on his face. She dissolved into his strong arms. If he hadn’t have been holding her, she was so light-headed she would have dropped to the floor. Her legs felt feeble, a million butterflies swirling in her tummy as lust burned from deep within. The outside world was gone, leaving only the feel of the big man’s body, and the feel of his cock inside her.

  Love juice trickled down Carla’s thighs. She flicked a finger over her juices before lifting it to her mouth. She licked her finger clean, breathing intensely. Her hand went from her mouth back to her clit. Without thinking, a passionate moan escaped her.

  The trucker pressed his body against her, moving his chest against her breasts, his big, stiff cock stuck deep. Carla’s nipples tingled, pressed against the man’s big pecs. Large hands traced across her lower back, grasping her waist. She sighed and bucked her hips up and down, the length of the cock sliding in and out. She held onto the man’s broad shoulders and moved against him in time with his motions. She breathed onto his neck as he held her, both hands now on her ass, squeezing and massaging her fleshy cheeks. The man’s waist rampantly slammed against her, even faster, the head of his cock hitting her sweet spot just right.

  Carla needed this so badly, her nipples rock hard. She was on fire, breathing heavily, near to climax. She needed this cock inside her. The length of the shaft slipped in and out of her, clearly loving the sensation of being buried deep in such a snug hole. She took a deep inhale, her eyes shut tight, wanting the man to release his seed inside her. The trucker did his job.

  The feel of the trucker’s expanding cock inside her sent her over the edge. Carla arched her back as a tide of sweet ecstasy swept over her. With her body molded like a bridge, one hand still on the trucker’s shoulder, the other working her clit, she tilted her head back. Her eyes opened briefly, caught up in the moment.

  She was totally loving this position, and was so close to climax, but the trucker had other ideas. He wanted to get as deep as humanly possible. He slid his gigantic length out of her, carried her out of the stall, and plonked her down on the floor of the public bathroom. His impressive cock swayed about in front of her face, before he reached down, grabbed hold of her waist and turned her over onto her hands and knees. Her naked, pert ass was presented to him in the warm air of the empty room. The big man knew what he was doing.

  He stood behind her, his feet either side of her, and bent his knees, so that the head of his cock was lined up with her welcoming, tight pussy. He forced his smooth cock head up against Carla’s now very juicy snatch, held her waist sturdily, and slammed her deep, every inch. Her eyes watered in pleasure, and she groaned as the trucker pummeled her, sliding his lengthy, rigid shaft in and out of her.

  He drilled her expertly, tugging her hair back and skillfully spanking her ass cheeks, as she felt an unbelievable climax build up. She yelled at the top of her lungs as she came, jetting her squirt around his length and all over the dirty white floor. It was a way better orgasm than she'd ever had with her dildo, and it was at that moment that she realized that she didn’t even know the trucker’s name.

  Her climax only appeared to encourage the trucker even more, and he proceeded to shaft her hard, chasing his own finish. With one last, desperate thrust he came, and pulse after pulse of warm, sticky seed spurted into Carla’s wanton body. She sighed in agonizing gratitude, and the white of the bathroom slowly faded to black.

  Carla never did make it to her dad’s for Father’s Day that year. She’d felt drained for a few days, exhausted from the experience at the rest stop. She hadn’t felt sick, just worn out, and hungry. But the trucker certainly hadn’t left her completely alone. She could feel that he had left something deep inside her. Her tummy felt full and very different.

  No one would ever understand what she had found, and what she had gone through that day. That rampant, rough lust that she had lived through. But she thought it would probably be best if she kept the events of the day to herself.

  Carla gazed at the long, endless highway from a hotel room window. He was out there, somewhere. And she would find him. She would bring his child to him. She felt strangely content, and as the cool air conditioner blew her hair, she placed a hand on her belly, left the room and slowly made her way to her car.

  -----

  STAR STUCK

  By

  Tess West

  P aige Gastelum was not the sort of person who would usually line up at a movie premiere, craning her head desperately to catch sight of the stars on the red carpet.

  Paige was a young woman. She was slim and toned, with a flat stomach and defined shoulders which rippled beneath the fabric of her T-shirt with every movement. Some believed she hit the gym so often to compensate for a deep-seated insecurity.

  She pushed her wavy brown hair out of her dark brown eyes. A few lone gray hairs shone out from the swath of brown, a bad omen for future aging. But Paige could not care less about that right now – her eyes were glued to the gleaming red carpet stretched out before her.

  She could hardly believe she was here. Excitement fluttered d
eep in her stomach as she fought to restrain herself, so that she didn’t end up squealing like the gaggle of girls just ten feet away from her. They were practically falling over the barrier between them and the carpet, giggling nonstop.

  As much as Paige wanted to turn her nose up at them, she secretly felt the exact same way. Any moment now her absolute favorite actor of all time, Joshua Bray, would be strolling down the carpet. A raucous cheer rose at the other end, where the stars started to walk, and Paige’s stomach did a somersault.

  Tonight was the world film premiere of Fatal Risk: Duke of Blood, the latest in an action series that had taken the world by storm four years ago. Paige had never been into action movies growing up, something that her father had been slightly disappointed with. She’d leaned more towards the dramas and comedies, finding no pleasure in watching fast-paced car scenes and exploding buildings.

  But then Fatal Risk had come out, the first in the series, and she had fallen head over heels for it. Paige didn’t even live anywhere near Los Angeles – she actually lived about five hours south – but she had come up for the weekend so that she could attend this very premiere. All she wanted was a glimpse of Joshua Bray, perhaps even get an autograph or a selfie.