DISCLAIMERS:
[This is a work of fiction. The story is an unadulterated and unabashed attempt to tickle male fantasies and perhaps some female fantasies as well. It is a fantasy and as such, the story may or may not conform entirely with reality. But isn't that the whole point of fantasies? With historical exceptions, all other locations, events, and characters are entirely fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.]
I do not practice nor do I condone any of the sexual acts about which I write, other than straight, heterosexual relationships. Beside the fact that most other forms of sexual behavior are illegal, I still don't judge consenting adults for their sexual preferences except where such behavior is hurtful/harmful to others, such as pedophilia.
None-the-less, many people have FANTASIES of such taboo laden behavior to achieve sexual gratification or whatever, but have no intentions whatsoever of carrying out such behavior in actual practice. That said, if I have struck a particular fantasy of yours, read and enjoy.
CHARACTERS:
Bruce Jetson........................................Lead male character, thirty-five, widowed
Jim & Sue Jetson...................................parents of Bruce
Samantha (Sam) Hicks............................Lead female character, twenty-four, Bruce helps in snowstorm
Tracy Hicks..........................................Samantha's baby
Donna Jones.........................................Mother of Samantha
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I was on I-57, two hours south of Chicago, the city where I had started. I wished I hadn't, started that is. My watch said it was only four in the afternoon, but the clouds and the blowing snow made it appear much, much later. The going seemed to be getting worse.
My vehicle was the only reason I even considered to stay on the road, that and the fact I had promised my folks in Florida that I would be there for Christmas day dinner.
My vehicle was a late model Dodge crew cab, turbocharged, Cummins diesel dually with four wheel drive and a manual transmission. Back in the cap covered bed I carried a half ton of bagged sand for added weight. As long as I could see, I could stay on the road and keep going without too much trouble. And, I didn't drive over forty miles an hour and often much more slowly as conditions warranted.
I'd stopped counting the number of cars in the ditch in both the north bound and south bound lanes as well as those in the median--at least when I could see them. Drivers just wouldn't slow down and they paid for it. Any number of them zoomed by me in the passing lane and I found some of them a ways down the road, in the ditch.
Much, much later, I finally made it to Marion, Illinois where I pulled off the Interstate for fuel. A drive that normally would take no more than five hours and usually less, hat taken nine and a half hours this time in the snow storm
I needed a break from the tension of driving under such poor conditions as much as my truck needed fuel. Fueling completed, I pulled the truck over to the parking area and struggled through the blowing snow to the truck stop restaurant.
An empty stool at the counter beside two obvious truckers was my target. Maybe they knew something of I-24 through Tennessee and I-75 south from Chattanooga. I ordered a hot sandwich and coffee.
I looked to the two truckers on my right and said, "My name's Bruce and I'm headed for I-24 and then south on I-75. Do you know anything about conditions on those roads?"
The trucker nearest to me answered, "My moniker's 'Droopy.' Road conditions thata way aren't the best but I hear they's a lots better than the ones north from here."
"Yes, the drive from Chicago to here was about twice the normal amount of driving time."
"That's what Jeb and me heard."
"You guys team drivers or solos?"
"Weun's a team on a reefer. Goin' where you come from, Chi-town."
"Good luck. Myself, I'm headed for North Fort Myers, Florida. Christmas with the parents and all that."
"Well, you all will like to run out of the snow somewheres between Chantenoogy and 'Lanta."
"Much obliged," I said as I laid down a tip and rose from my seat. "I got a feeling the state will shut down I-57 before much longer. It's really bad, and getting worse."
"Thanks, sonny, weuns might just spend a little Z time in the sleeper while this blows over."
I walked off to the cashier and then back out to my truck. I had left the diesel run with the wipers running and defroster on high, so my windshield was clear and the side windows only a bit slushy. Unlocking, I climbed into the cab and headed back out for the Interstate.
The run across I-24 was interesting, but not as bad as the run down I-57. It only took me half again as long to reach Chattanooga as usual instead of the nearly twice as long on the trip to Marion.
About an hour or more north of Chattanooga, I got flagged down by a figure waving franticly by the side of the Interstate. The figure was holding a wrapped up bundle in its other arm. A small car was nearly buried in the roadside ditch behind the figure. The snow was swirling so hard at that particular moment, I almost ran the person down.
I managed to get the truck stopped and the figure dashed for me. I rolled my window down as the figure reached my door. From the depths of that heavy, hooded parka and muffler wrapped face, I heard a female voice come out of a teeth chattering mouth.
"Oh God, mister, I'm so glad you stopped. I've been standing out here nearly fifteen minutes since my car ran out of gas and no one would stop. I was about to freeze to death. My baby can't take much more of this."
"Well, we can't have that now, can we. You'd better go around the front of the truck where there is some light and get in here out of this weather."
"Oh thank you so much."
"You'd better hand that baby in to me first; then hang onto the truck to get to the passenger door.
She picked her way carefully around the truck, steadying herself on the truck with her free hand. She got the passenger door open and climbed in, slipping on the first step, but then making it.
After she reclaimed the baby, she exclaimed, "Oh shit, I forgot my bag with the baby's things in it in my rush to get to you."
"Just sit here in the warmth and I'll go back and get it for you,"
"Thanks," she chattered, "I'm so stiff with cold I can hardly move."
I pulled my parka over my head, tied it shut, pulled on my gloves, and climbed our into the snow storm. It took me a bit to find the bag as it was a ways back and the blowing snow had almost buried it already. But I did eventually find it and then made my way back to my truck.
"Damn, but it is cold out there. How's the baby"
"Apparently, none the worse for the experience. She was wrapped up well and was quite snug and warm. I was so scared she wouldn't be."
I got on the road and moving again without getting hit.
"Where were you headed before you went off the road?"
"I was headed for my mothers place in North Fort Myers. My boyfriend left me a week after the baby was born. He just walked out and said he wouldn't be back."
"How old is she now?"
"Tracy is six weeks old now. By the way, my name's Samantha. But everyone just calls me, Sam. Howd ja do?"