by Candy Quinn
Something about the afternoon air, though, wouldn’t let me shake the thought that I was awfully lonely on the farm, much as I liked it.
The broken-down truck I’d heard was just down the road. If I’d waited another few minutes, I reckoned, the owner would probably be knocking on my front door.
But I saw him leaning over an open hood instead. He kept his head down until I had pulled up in front of him, and even then, he didn’t turn to look at me ‘until I turned my engine off and stepped out, toolbox in hand.
Well damn, ain’t no locals in Pleasants County who look like that!
His height was what struck me the most, at first—he must have had at least a head or more on me, easily. His dark brown hair spilled down behind his neck, just barely touching his shoulders, pulled back away from his forehead. His chiseled jaw looked mighty strong, but it pointed into a little cleft chin that was so cute I couldn’t help but smile.
His eyes are what kept me far from laughing, though. Those piercing green eyes met me dead-on as I stepped out of the truck and walked towards him, and they told me this stranger was trouble, and he might just be used to getting away with it.
“Howdy there,” I said as I made my way closer, glancing up and down the stranger’s person. He had on worn-out jeans and a simple black shirt that hugged his muscles. He was wiping his hands with an American flag bandana. “Your engine made some awful racket breaking down. Need a hand?”
The stranger laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back at his exposed engine. The afternoon sun glinted off piercings on his eyebrow and nose.
“Guess I’m not really in a place to say ‘no’ to that, huh?”
“No sir,” I chuckled back, stepping up beside him and tearing my eyes away to see what was under the hood. His accent made him a dead giveaway as a non-local. He looked like he’d blown in from Atlanta, and that big truck of his didn’t suit him well. What on earth was he doing all the way out here?
“Where you comin’ in from, stranger? Can’t say we get a lotta visitors around here, but then again, I guess you aren’t really stopping in on purpose, huh?” I leaned over the engine to give it a routine check, and he leaned in beside me.
I’d taken him for a city boy, but you couldn’t tell by the way he was built. He leaned against the car on big, rough hands, and his thick, muscled arms led up to a dragon tattoo that was just barely covered by his sleeve. I caught myself wondering how far into his shirt the tattoo stretched, and I snapped my attention back to the engine.
“Just heading into the city, actually,” he answered, “I’m from just a couple counties over. Got an old friend I’m meeting in town.”
While I was busy in the engine, I suddenly felt his eyes on me, and I realized that I was leaning over the engine with my ass sticking way farther out than I’d noticed.
“Can’t imagine people avoid this place, with such friendly locals around,” he smiled as I felt myself blushing furiously and scooting upright, trying to be subtle about it.
“Well,” I began, trying to keep myself from leaning back down again, “place as small as this, you gotta be as friendly as you can, y’know?”
My heart almost skipped a beat when I realized what I’d just said, and hurriedly kept going. “Anyway, can’t see much of anything wrong with the engine. Lemme take a look around the back.”
I thought I saw him stiffen a little as I turned to walk around the covered pickup truck.
“Oh, that’s not necessary, miss,” he started. “Come to think of it, I was running low on gas last I checked, but I’ve got a spare can in the back. I can take care of it.”
There’d been a sudden shift in his voice.
“Well shoot, why’d you even bother poppin’ the hood then?” I smirked playfully at him. “Here, I’ll grab it for you.” You’re only being polite, after all, I told myself, nothing wrong with helping a nice fella out, right?
“No, really—” he started to say, and I didn’t realize he’d hurried to the back of the truck with me until I was pulling the hatch open…
…and inside was a huge load of jugs filled to the brim with clear liquid that sparkled in the afternoon sun.
He was running moonshine.
There was a long silence as I stared at it all, half in awe. The stranger just stood there beside me, eventually putting a hand over his mouth and propping himself against his truck with an arm.
He had reason to be embarrassed. There was enough smuggled moonshine in the back of this truck to rake him in a tidy profit. Or land his ass in the county jail for a tidy sentence. I knew all about the money there was in running the stuff across state lines—my sister ran with a pretty rough crowd before she took off for the city.
“Gas, huh?” I heard myself say, and I felt a pang of fear after the words left my mouth. What was I saying?! This guy was a smuggler!
“Alright, listen,” he said, his voice much more firm than it had been a moment ago. I looked to him and realized he was standing over me, looming with keen, hungry eyes that pierced right into me even as they held my attention. “I can tell you’re a smart gal, so I won’t pretend like this isn’t what it looks like.”
I gave him a suspicious look as his eyes darted to the road for an instant. Even when he wasn’t looking at me, he seemed to hold me in place without touching me.
“All I’m doing,” he continued, “is bringing some of the best booze this county’s ever seen to a place where honest folk like me and you can get a hold of it. Just making a living off good service, just like you,” he nodded back up the road, where one of the barns was visible.
I followed his gaze, but my attention jerked back to him as I felt a rough, calloused hand on my arm and smelled the man’s faint musk as he drew a little closer to me. A shiver ran through me, and I wasn’t sure whether I was afraid, or…
“You’ve got an awfully kind heart, coming out and helping a stranger like me,” he almost whispered. He seemed so close, and I suddenly felt vulnerable out here on the road, but there was something inexplicably reassuring in his words. “You don’t seem like the kinda gal who cares much for getting the law involved in stuff like this, so why don’t you just take one of these jugs with you? Least I could do in thanks for a little roadside help.”
I swallowed hard, pulling back from his grasp and holding one arm in the other, meeting his eyes in a steady gaze. He was brazen, that was for sure, offering a bribe of contraband just like that. I’d never been much of a drinker, but I had heard some folks say that good moonshine was hard to pass up.
Of course, I knew something that could get this tough guy arrested. Could help clean this county up right here and now by just waiving the offer away and turning him in. Something, though, nagging at the back of my mind, was flirting with a different idea, and I was silent for a few moments.
“Don’t much matter,” I finally admitted, guilt burning in my chest as I decided to make myself an accessory to bootlegging. “We’re a small county, and when your truck backfired earlier, it was loud enough that they’ll have heard you from a mile around.”
I broke away from his gaze as I saw his face go still, and I kicked at the ground a little as I continued, “With a disturbance like that, I reckon the sheriff’s on his way already.”
The stranger stepped away, running a hand through his hair as he looked around, cursing under his breath. “Fuck, you sure about that?” He turned back to me with sudden suspicion and fired, “If you’re just trying to get me rattled—”
“I’d be doing a good job of it,” I found myself bold enough to laugh back, and before his face could go completely red I held up a hand and added, “but seriously, I dunno what’s the matter with your truck, but if you don’t want to spend the night in the county jail, mister…”
“Jason,” he half-growled, approaching me expectantly as I spoke.
“Jason. I don’t reckon I can fix up whatever’s wrong with your ride in this short a time, but you don’t have much more than ten minute
s to disappear.”
He looked dumbfounded, and he put his hands behind his head, letting out a long, unhappy breath as he leaned against the truck.
I could read his thoughts on his face: do I believe the bitch and leave all my product behind, or do I not believe her and risk getting caught?
I figured that was the gist, anyway. Folks like him weren’t too polite even under the best of circumstances, and this one was already on edge.
Then his eyes got a fiery glint in them and he turned to me again, giving me a quick once-over.
“Hey, you are from that farm up the road, aren’t you?”
I cocked an eyebrow and put a hand on my hip, watching him warily, but nodding.
“Bet one of your barns has some room in it, huh?” Suddenly there was a boyish grin on his face, and mine flushed with anger at his suggestion.
“Now if you think,” I started angrily, wagging a finger, “if you think for one second I’m gonna let you park your booze-mobile on my land, you’ve got another thing comin’, stranger. ‘Sides, your truck ain’t goin’ nowhere, moonshine or no.”
“No, but you’ve got a truck.”
I was shocked by how forward he was being, glaring at him with both hands on my hips as he strode towards me with that wolfish look in his eye. What was he thinking, that I’d just let him stroll in and set up an operation on my land?
“Come on, now,” he lowered his already gravelly voice almost to a whisper, “what, the rest of the farmhands too righteous for that kind of thing? We could load all the booze onto your truck and park it somewhere quiet, nobody’d be the wiser.”
“No, it’s just me there.”
I don’t know why I told that to a stranger, much less a guy like this. I’d expected a ravenous glint in his eye at the discovery, but his expression just made it seem like he either already knew or didn’t care.
“Really? Just you, all by yourself?” He tsked and shook his head, “Must get awfully lonely—by yourself so far out in the country that a stranger’s car breaking down is enough to get you moving.”
I crinkled my nose at the condescending comment and crossed my arms. I opened my mouth to say something back, but instead I just turned and started marching back to my truck.
I didn’t need that kind of attitude from some city boy with the law on his tail.
“I’ll eat your pussy.”
I stopped. I blinked. I turned around slowly.
He was just standing there, all smoky green eyes, dusty jacket, and a face covered in stubble. I hadn’t even registered that I’d heard him right when I realized that my face was probably not looking as disgusted as I wanted it to. My mouth was just barely agape, and even as I looked at him as if he hadn’t spoken English, my cheeks were flushed red.
“Huh?” was all I managed.
“You took a look under my hood,” he said, striding towards me casually, knowing he’d struck a chord from the time he saw my face, “now let me take a look under yours.”
“Mister, uh…”
“Jason.” He had come close to me without my realizing. “It’s Jason Brewer.”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “I-I don’t…”
My mind was a jumble of thoughts. I should have been laughing off the man’s absurd offer and getting into my truck right now, and every part of me knew it. Well, almost every part, I realized as I moved my hips and felt a wetness between my legs I hadn’t noticed.
He’s right, said something at the back of my mind. It was unbearably lonely on the farm. I worked all day with no more company than the animals, and at the end of each day, I headed inside to an empty house, no other noise but my footsteps on the old wood.
But I was a good gal, like my folks always taught me. Still, there were plenty of nights I’d lain in bed, wishing there were somebody lying beside me, and still more nights I’d felt my own hand wandering down below my waist.
Guilt burned in me those nights, even as I comforted myself, and it burned just as much now as I realized I was actually considering his words.
I was a good girl…but it wasn’t like I hadn’t pictured a man with a strong jaw going to work on me before. I licked my lips as excitement tickled my womanhood and shame made my face go red.
“Okay.”
The word just kind of…spilled out of me. It was like someone else had said it through my mouth, but the next moment I was hauling moonshine into my truck.
Both of us moved fast. I was used to loading trucks fast, but I didn’t expect Jason to be so quick. He obviously had some experience with this kind of illicit work. Just what kind of criminal had I just invited to my farm—and between my legs?
I opened the truck door after we’d finished and sat down with my legs hanging out the side, my heart racing. Was I really about to go through with this? Help some stranger stash some contraband on my land and let him—
My thoughts were interrupted when Jason appeared at the open door, still catching his breath from hauling the jugs so quickly.
“Well,” I nodded to the passenger’s seat, “let’s get going, it’s just up the road, but the sheriff won’t be long now.”
“Think I owe you a little something first, miss.”
I blinked and stared up at him, and my face flushed. “Wh-? We don’t got time for that, and we can’t,” I stuck my head out the truck to peer down the road, “you can’t just do that out in the open like this, someone might see! Sheriff might pull up on us!”
“You sound like you like that idea,” he purred.
I huffed, unable to meet his eyes for a few seconds.
“You do still want this, don’t you?”
I finally turned my eyes to meet his, his expression full of hungry expectation. He already knew the answer to his own question. I wanted it.
God, I wanted it. But…did I really want it this way? My first time, in the middle of the road with a stranger? Did it even count as a first time if he did…what he said he would do? I didn’t know, and as I felt a knot in my throat, I realized that I didn’t care.
“Come on,” I breathed, and I clutched the side of the door as he went to his knees and started to undo the button on my shorts, strong hands helping me down to sit on the step bar.
His fingers were as deft with my clothes as his arms were with the moonshine. I felt my denim shorts being tugged down roughly in no time, the warm summer breeze tickling my suddenly exposed lips.
My heart fluttered. I’d never been exposed like this outside for as long as I could remember. And certainly never in any kind of situation like this. I felt like there were eyes all around me, watching me reveal myself in front of a man I’d only met a few minutes ago. What in the hell was I thinking?
Warmth spread up through my body before he even touched anywhere near my privates. His big, rough hands held my hips as though he’d held them a hundred times before, and the low rumble from his chest told me he felt as hungry for me as he looked.
This man, this bandit who could throw me to the ground and take me any way he wanted me, was relishing the moment before I let him taste my cunt.
“I’ve been to a lot of little places like this around the South,” he murmured as he squeezed my ass, “but the hospitality down here is unlike any other.”
“C’mon, don’t keep me waiti-OH!”
I’d put my own fingers in my vagina plenty of times before, more times than I’d like to admit, but nothing, nothing felt like the strong jaw that pressed itself into my wet folds, and my whole body shuddered as his tongue gently massaged the outside of my pussy. It pressed up against my lips and wasted no time going in when he realized how soaking wet I was.
“Sweetheart,” he husked, “I didn’t know you were this ready to give a little love.”
“Keep doing it,” I whimpered, “and hurry, he’ll be here soon!”
Honestly, whether or not the sheriff was getting close wasn’t the foremost thing on my mind. From the moment his tongue touched me, I just wanted him closer, further inside me. I wante
d to feel him comforting me the way I couldn’t do it myself.
I found myself letting my hand grasp at his hair, trying to press him into me harder as I started to rock my hips.
The next moment, he was moving his tongue in tandem with my rhythm. It felt like all of my muscles were unwinding, but shivers ran up my spine all at the same time.
I’d never even imagined that it could feel this way, and here it was, happening in plain sight for anyone to drive by and see.
He was exploring my body with his tongue, getting more acquainted with me in broad daylight than I’d been with my closest friends and the crushes I had. I kept rocking my hips further, wanting him deeper and deeper, but soon I felt him resisting, his tongue wandering away from the depths I wanted it in. I subtly tried to make him go deeper, but he gave a firm murmur when he felt me trying to change his direction.
Then my hand gripped the steering wheel, hard, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as Jason wrapped a hand around my back to keep me from falling backwards. He’d just stuck his tongue somewhere close to the outside of my cunt, up along the top, and whatever he’d just hit, the ecstasy that shot through my body was dizzying.
I couldn’t help but let out a sharp gasp, and in the next instant my heart nearly stopped at the sound of a car approaching.
No, not now, any time but now, I begged as I felt sweat on my forehead. I was too out of it to look back, though, and to my horror, Jason wasn’t stopping.
What if it’s the sheriff? What if he pulls up and finds me like this? I’m practically a moonshiner now, and on top of that there’s a hardened criminal in my—
“Ahhh-AAAHHHHH!”
I fell backwards, laying down on the seat of my truck as an orgasm unlike any other I’d ever experienced boiled over and shocked my whole body.
