"Damn it, Norman! Why do you have to drive so god damn fast?"
They had been on the road today for only a few hours, although it seemed like days. It was hot in the middle of the summer and the desert, through which this seemingly endless road ran, provided absolutely no relief. But the '74 Olds 98 4-door hardtop with its 455 engine was cruising effortlessly over the asphalt. The A/C was working great until it gave out three days ago, so they were speeding down the highway with all four windows down.
Norman ignored her complaint as he usually did to avoid an argument. He smiled and checked to make sure the cruise control was holding steady at 85. He wore sandals with no socks, plain Bermuda shorts, and a short-sleeved Hawaiian shirt which was unbuttoned exposing his chest. It was hot and this provided a little relief. He wore sunglasses and a well-worn Yankees baseball cap. He relaxed with his right hand on the wheel and left arm out the open window. A half-empty, pint bottle of Old Grand-Dad lay on the seat beside him. He was doing better today - it was ten o'clock in the morning and he still had half the bottle left.
Michelle was hot and sweaty on the vinyl bench seat and although she wore a lightweight summer dress with a scoop neck, beads of sweat ran down between her breasts. She had her dress pulled up to her thighs and one bare foot was on the metal dash in hopes that some air would reach up her legs. Her sunglasses were essential against the summer sun and her right arm dangled out the open window feeling the wind as the nearly 20-foot long sedan sped through the hot, desert air.
She reached over and turned the radio on. There hadn't been any reception all morning, but she went through the routine every 15 minutes or so. She turned the volume up enough so they could hear the static over the wind noise. Norm glanced at her with a "here we go again" look. She turned the dial all the way to the left, down where the 55 number was. Then she slowly turned the dial up toward the 16. Every time the static sound changed she would move the dial back and forth slightly hoping that there would be a station there. And there never was. She always said, "Shit," under her breath as she gave up and continued to move the dial up. After three or four minutes she reached the end. "Damn it!" she cursed and turned the radio off.
"It's so damn boring! God, I'm hot. Why aren't there any radio stations out here? You'd think we were on the moon or something. I don't know why we ever decided to do this. At home at least I could go to the pool and try to cool off. When are we going to stop for gas? I need another cold drink."
"Take it easy, 'Shel," Norm replied. "We just got gas 50 miles ago – we can go another three hours. We're making good time. Why don't you read your magazine again or do your nails?"
"Fuck you!" she spat out, shooting her most evil look at him for suggesting that for the umpteenth time.
He glanced over at her and smiled to himself. She was hot when she got mad. He looked down at her legs which were almost completely exposed now as she had pulled her dress up even higher. "Killer legs," he thought to himself. He looked up at her chest in profile now as she was angrily staring straight down the road. Her C cups filled out the fitted bodice of that summer dress just fine and he thought how nice it would be when they got to the motel, turned the A/C on, and were able to take their clothes off. Maybe tonight he'd get lucky.
He reached for the bottle on the seat beside him, unscrewed the cap, and took a healthy swig. "Ahhhhhhh..." he said as he screwed the lid back on and put the bottle down.
And he thought of how she looked when she walked out of the motel bathroom after her shower with the towel up around her head as she dried her hair. She'd usually just stand there in front of the A/C with her legs slightly spread and her tits would shake as she vigorously dried her hair. He gulped at the thought, reached down and repositioned himself in his shorts, and then returned his attention to the road.
"What's this?" Michelle asked as she squinted through the windshield glare trying to see something on the side of the road up ahead.
"I don't know," replied Norm. "Wait a minute. Looks like somebody..."
"It's a hitchhiker!" Michelle exclaimed. "Don't stop! Keep going!"
As they approached the hitcher at high speed, they could tell it was a man with a large backpack on the ground beside him. He had a beat up western hat on, jeans, and a tucked-in shirt open down the front. He looked straight at them with his thumb out as they sped by.
Michelle noticed his week's growth of beard and his rolled up shirt sleeves.
Norm hit the brakes immediately.
"What the hell are you doing?" Michelle yelled at Norman as she turned in the seat and looked at him. "I told you not to stop! We can't pick up a hitchhiker! Damnit! You never listen to me!"
Norman ignored her as he pulled the car to a stop on the side of the road some 50 yards past the hitcher. He looked back through the rear view mirror.
Michelle turned in her seat and looked back at the hitchhiker. "He's not even coming! He's just standing there. He doesn't even want a ride. Let's go, Norm," she said, knowing full well that she would be ignored.
Norm continued to look behind using the rear view mirror. He shifted gears and the car began to move backwards.
"Norm! Norm! What are you doing! You can't do this! Oh, shit!" she said as she realized what was happening.
Norm continued to back up using the rear view mirror as a guide. Fuming, Michelle just sat down in the seat, put her legs on the floor in front of her, and stared straight ahead with her arms folded under her breasts. Her agitation pushed her chest out with each deep breath.
Norm slowed down as he approached the hitcher, then sped up slightly as he missed the brake with his foot and stepped on the gas instead. He recovered and slammed on the brakes but was half a car length past him when he stopped. Norm changed gears and moved forward. He stopped the car when the hitchhiker was even with Michelle's open window.
The hitch hiker stepped forward and leaned down into Michelle's window. She moved her head back slightly, glanced at his face quickly as she did so, then returned her gaze to straight ahead.
"Howdy, folks," he said. "Thanks for stopping."
"Uh... That's O.K.," replied Norman. "Where you headed?"
Leaning with both forearms along the bottom of Michelle's open window, the hitcher looked down into Michelle's cleavage and inadvertently grazed Michelle's upper arm with his right hand. She shivered at the touch.
Continuing to gaze between her tits, he felt her shiver and purposely touched her arm with the back of his fingers. She felt his touch, but continued to stare straight ahead. Between her anger at Norm and an unexpected touch from this stranger, she knew something just happened.
"Hey, you know," he answered. "Down the road. Where you guys headed?"
He glanced down at her exposed legs and her bunched up dress. Out of Norman's sight he slowly stroked Michelle's arm with all four fingers of his hand. Her body tingled from her arm to her pussy. She tried not to move, but her legs involuntarily spread slightly.
"That's where we're going - down the road. California, maybe, if we make it," Norman answered.
"That's fine with me," the hitcher responded.
There was a pause. Norman was leaning forward in the seat looking toward the hitcher who was leaning into Michelle's window. The hitcher looked up at Norm while surreptitiously caressing Michelle's arm. Michelle continued to stare straight ahead with her arms folded.
They had stopped the car and the heat closed in on them; more sweat ran down between her tits.
Norm broke the silence. "Would you like a ride?"
"Yeah, that would be great," he replied, but made no movement except to continue to stroke Michelle's arm.
"Uh.... O.K. Here, let me help," Norm said as he shifted the car into park. He opened his door, got out, and walked around the back of the car.
Michelle turned her head and looked the hitcher straight in the eye. Neither said anything as they exchanged the look, then the hitcher moved his hand away, stood up, and turned to meet Norm. She pulled her dress down over her knees.
"Uh... I'm Norman. Norm for short, and this is Michelle. I didn't catch your name," he said as he opened the rear door on the passenger's side.
"Jake, here. Jake, for short," he said. He turned, stepped to his backpack, and hefted it up. Norm could tell it was heavy.
"That's looks heavy. Whatcha' got in there?" he asked.
