Badlands by Stardog Champion © The words, "I love it when a plan comes together," kept echoing through my head over and over. I believe it was Hannibal Smith who made those 8 words famous, but in truth, at that moment, with nothing in front of me but a clear expanse of I-90 in South Dakota, those words were meant entirely for me. I had just turned 42, and after beginning as an intern at Midwestern Mutual Insurance as a senior at the University of Wisconsin, I had stuck with the company and paid my dues. I had kept my mouth shut many times when I was passed by for promotions until my opportunity finally came, Vice President of Sales and Marketing for the entire multimillion dollar company. My pay doubled up to 140 K, plus bonuses and commissions, a company car, and the golden opportunity to move up to President of Marketing when my boss, George Soloman, retired in five years. For once in my life, it felt as if all my hard work was indeed paying off and my life seemed to be on the fast track. My wife Lindsey had faithfully stuck by me for 22 years, through the good times and the bad and she had given me two beautiful children, Mark who was 21 and a Junior at Marquette and Kimberly, who was 16 and a junior in high school. Although the travel involved with the new position would be straining, the money we could save up as a family after finishing sending both kids to school along with the unwritten promise of becoming President of the marketing department down the road, made the vision of our golden years a very pleasant one. As I stared down into the harsh emptiness of I-90, going west through the Dakota Badlands on that late May day last year, I certainly felt like I was the king of the road. I had just gotten off the cell phone with Lindsey back in Sheboygan and other than the fact that our request for Packer season tickets had been turned down for the eighth year in a row, all was going well at home. Mark was safely back from college and Kim was getting ready for her high school rendition of "Cats". I ground my teeth from the disappointment of not being there. Another thing I purposely steered our brief conversation away from was the fact that the next day was going to be our 22nd wedding anniversary and for the first time ever, we were not going to be able to spend it together. With my new position's added income and responsibility, Lindsey had begrudgingly accepted the fact that we would have to make some sacrifices for a greater benefit down the road. "I love you babe... I will make it up to you," I said as sincerely as I could, knowing she knew exactly what I meant when I said “it”. "I know she replied....I love you too...You're going to be in Rapid City tomorrow night...right?" Lindsey caringly replied. "Yeah...at the Courtyard.....should be there by late afternoon...I'll give you a call when I get in...OK," I promised. "I'll be here Baby...Love you..," She said, hanging up. "Bye." I laid the phone back down in its holder, trying my best to fight back a tear, at that moment missing Lindsey and the kids more than I ever had before. * * * * * I pulled out of Mitchell, South Dakota the next morning a little after 11 am after meeting with our office manager there. Looking at my road map, I figured I had about a 6 hour drive left before I got to Rapid City to turn in for the night. The whole afternoon, alone in my car, cruising down the barren, desolate wasteland , I couldn't help but kick myself over and over that I was missing my 22nd anniversary, my heart feeling eerily like my Dakota surroundings. As the miles and the hours clicked by, about 40 miles outside of Rapid City, I saw a broken down older Toyota sitting lifeless on the side of the road. About three minutes later, off in the hazy distance, I got a glimpse of someone walking west along the same side of the highway I was driving. Getting closer, I saw a dark ponytail swinging side to side. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl until I sped by at nearly 75. Looking back in my rearview at the frame of the unfortunate soul, I guessed it was a female, either a thin young woman or teenager, as the dot behind me got smaller and smaller with each turn of my wheels. A twinge of guilt went through me as I put two and two together figuring it was that young lady's car that was resting motionless a few miles back. Looking at the map beside me, I could see there was hardly anything between where we were and Rapid City. Turning my gaze forward and looking at the desolate expanse of highway in front of me, something deep within me took control and made me pull over to stop and wait. Pushing the gearshift up into park, I gazed back in the rearview and saw the dot that was about a half mile back, steadily move closer. I looked up at the sun slowly sinking in the western sky and guessed that there was only a half an hour left of daylight. If the young lady behind me was to have to walk to the nearest town she could be out here to midnight and as I surveyed the surroundings, I wouldn't have wished that on anyone. As I sat there and watched the figure of the woman approach, I turned up the car's AC to ward off the stagnant late Spring heat. I knew though once the sun went down in open spaces such as this, the temperature would plummet. I knew it wouldn't be a safe situation for anyone, much less a young girl out in this vast emptiness, so I told myself secretly, what a hero I would be when she got up to the car and I was there to help her. Another voice inside my head however told me she would probably freak seeing that someone had pulled over to wait for her, as if they were a vulture waiting for the right time to pick her bones. I made the conscious decision to sit and wait and at least offer my services and if she declined then I would politely leave her be and wish her well. Five minutes or so passed before the young lady's face came into clear view. I focused on her, seemingly like a voyeur in the rearview as she approached my parked car. Although she was wearing a pair of dark boots that added a few inches to her height, she still was a tall girl, probably around 5 foot 9 and had long black hair that was braided into a pony tail behind her. With a sweatshirt and jeans on it was difficult to tell what kind of figure she had but as she got closer, there was a certain wiggle in her walk that indicated to me she was a very confident, if not exasperated, young woman. I slowly rolled down my driver's side window so I could ask her I she needed any help. When I could hear the sounds of her boots heels meeting the asphalt, I knew she was in earshot. "Do you need any help?" I asked bluntly as she neared my car, about 10 feet behind my car. The young woman stopped cold in her tracks and yelled back. "I guess I do." The young woman said exhaustedly. "My car's broke down a ways back." I had anticipated a skiddish response, any guy traveling a desolate stretch of highway and stops to pick up a woman walking alone on the highway would be a red flag for something bad getting ready to happen. I wouldn't have blamed her a bit if she had taken off across the high plains screaming for help. Instead, the young woman just stood there with her long black bangs willowing across her forehead as she measured me up. "I guess I ought to be glad somebody stopped," she finally sighed." I bet it gets cold as shit out here when the sun goes down and I don't have a clue how far it is away from the next town." "I'm headed for Rapid City to stop for the night...I'm sure you could find a garage there to come get your car," I offered. Sensing she was willing to accept my offer, I reached over and unlocked the passenger side door, picked up my briefcase, laid it in the backseat and threw a few assorted loose papers into the floorboard to make room for the stranded young woman. "Don't mind the mess...I'm traveling alone...I can get a little messy sometimes. My name is Darrell...Darrell Montgomery...I'm an insurance salesman...I live back in Sheboygan...Sheboygan, Wisconsin...Every couple of months I have to do a cross state trip through the Plains checking on some of our local field offices..." I rambled on, trying to put the young lady as well as myself more at ease. "Oh yeah...by the way," I continued, "Here's my cell pone...if you want to call somebody to let them know where you are OK...be my guest...talk as long as you want..." Taking the phone out of the holder, I extended it towards the young woman as she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat. "....Wendy," she replied, taking the phone tentatively from my hand. "Wendy Bennett...thanks for the phone...I think I will call information to get a garage to come pick up my car." "Sure," I said reassuringly. "I was on my way back from school...my folks just moved to Casper, Wyoming and I was planning to stop for the night in Rapid City too," Wendy sighed as she dialed 411 and waited for the operator to pick up on the other end. "That's a long drive with that piece of shit I left back there...I tell you...I had a bad feeling before I even left that something like this would happen." "College huh," I replied trying to make conversation. "My son's a Junior...will be a Senior at Marquette and my daughter Kimberly....she's 16," I said, pointing to the pictures of my kids taped to the dashboard in front of me. I pegged the young lady to be about 20 maybe 21 or 22, slightly younger than my son but a little older than my daughter. I ground my teeth a little, upset that Mark, my son, never brought home girls that looked this pretty. I couldn't help but peek out of the corner of my eyes as I drove, down at Wendy's long denim covered legs as her feet intertwined in the floorboard, her black patent leather boots rubbing together, massaging her tired toes from her long walk as she waited for information to get her the nearest garage's number. Looking over at Wendy as she continued to talk on the phone, I felt a distinct tingle dance around my spine as I listened to her talk to the garage owner on the other end, her voice sounding smooth and confident with just a touch of sweetness and innocence as she told him where to send the tow truck driver. Wendy grabbed one of the old newspapers from the floor and wrote the address to the garage down so we could find it when we got to town. Clicking the phone off, Wendy handed it back to me and said,"Thanks". With a slight nervous twitch, I took the receiver from her hand and placed it back in the recharger. "The guy at the garage told me they'd go out and pick it up tonight and bring it in. I told them I'd stop by when I got into town and fill out the paperwork. I think I'm gonna go ahead a junk the damn thing...I'll call my folks to come pick me up tomorrow...bet they're gonna love that," Wendy said more to herself than to me. "Had it...the car I mean...for a long time?" I asked, trying to make conversation. "Since high school," Wendy replied pleasantly, "Ever since I was 16." I was privately delighted she felt at ease around me in what could have been a very tense situation, so when she made the polite and sincere statement about me wanting anything from her to repay me for my kindness, my initial reaction was to be friendly and say, "Ahhhh...Heck...I would hope somebody would do it for me if I were in your spot," but as I looked over at her to begin to answer her, I saw that Wendy had a much more serious expression on her face than what I had expected. "May...may...maybe you could go half and half on a fill-up when we get into town," I replied as calmly as I could. "Yes...Darrell," Wendy answered sarcastically. "I would be glad to pay for a half a tank of gas. Are you sure that's all?" I couldn't think of anything else to say as I sat there driving. When she proceeded to uncross her legs and refold them so that she was facing me, my mind really hit a blank. I could feel her staring at me strangely as I continued to drive west. After a few moments of awkward silence between us, I was tempted to reach out and find a radio station for some background noise. Just as I was preparing to drop my hand down on the dial, Wendy piped up again. "This is kind of like silly situations you read about in magazines.... huh?" she said, almost teasing me. "What....what do you mean," I stammered. "Oh," She replied quickly, beginning to rock her left foot back and forth seductively, crossing her right. "You know...rich man stops to help girl in distress...she's vulnerable...he's rich....she's young and single...he's married...just your basic stuff like that." "Oh..," I answered nervously, knowing exactly what she was hinting at. "How did you know I was married?" I waited for a response before turning my head to look at her. The sly almost pathetic look on her face made me feel 2 feet tall. She was looking right at the gold band around my left ring finger and trying to contain her laughter. "That kinda gave it away," she sighed quietly. "Well...since you know I'm married...happily married," I replied confidently," I have to say those things your talking about only happen in Penthouse Letters." "I guess so...Darrell" Wendy mocked,"...so you do admit then that you do read Penthouse Letters?" I didn't answer her inquiry, only turned to look her in the eyes, trying to convey the fact that I didn't want what was happening to go any further. I couldn't make eye contact with her unfortunately because her sightline was fixed brazenly at my lap. "Those Dockers Khakis sure look good on men...but they obviously don't hide a thing...do they?" Wendy sneered matter-of-factly. I hesitated to look down. Although I knew she was arousing me, I didn't know to what extent until I finally mustered the courage to check the road in front of me before looking down to see what damage was done. That's when I saw just how obvious my arousal was. I bit my lip upon seeing my straining slacks and tried my best to figure out a way to talk myself down. I tried thinking of paying taxes, my wife's lousy carrot cake, even my mother in law naked. It all might have worked, but Wendy, sensing my hesitation, lowered her long smooth arm over the gearshift and laid it directly down onto the growing spherical ridge rising above the front of my slacks and began kneading her fingertips over the head of my protruding cock so that it's rounded helmet clearly showed through the light cotton fabric of the pants. "Jesus," I whispered. "I'm married...please stop." At that moment, Wendy's understanding of the English language must have vanished because she paid absolutely no attention to my pleas. Lowering her head into my lap, I agonizingly looked down and saw her wind swept hair fall against my crotch as her ponytail rested just below the steering wheel. Thankfully, the roads along that barren stretch of highway are painfully straight because I could hardly tear my eyes away from what was going on between my legs to drive my car. Suddenly, over the hum of the tires on the road I heard the zipper of my pants begin to grind down. A moment later, I felt two soft, probing fingers snake down and then through the fly of my boxers and like two warm candles, the young girl's fingertips grazed against my fully inflated and embarrassingly hard dick. A moment later, I felt the cool rush of the car's AC brush up against my now exposed cock. Wendy however didn't waste a second. Almost as soon as I felt the cool refreshing rush of air on the length of my erection, her warm, saliva drenched mouth closed around the upper half of it as she hungrily tried gobbling all she could down. Both my hands tightened on the steering wheel and inhaled deeply, looking straightforward at the road sign that said Rapid City 21 miles. "Dear God what have I done," I moaned to myself when my gaze fell on the picture of Lindsey and the kids taped to my dashboard, their six eyes seemingly watching from the picture as this stranger gave me a blowjob at 70 miles an hour. Wendy temporarily pulled her mouth off my now saturated cock to suck in a fresh dose of oxygen into her lungs. As she inhaled a few twice, Wendy used her hand to smack my rigid cock against the bottom of the steering wheel causing me to wince with guilty pleasure. Fortified once again with a mouthful of fresh air, the insistent young woman once again parted her lips wide, then closed them tightly around my jutting and twitching dick. I had a paranoid feeling that every car going east along the other side of the highway could look over and see Wendy's dark hair bob up and down in my lap and I nervously kept checking my rearview mirror to make sure another car wasn't coming up beside me on my left trying to pass. My right foot began involuntarily twitching up and down on the accelerator as Wendy resumed her deep, salacious oral technique. As she snaked and swirled her tongue in rapid 360 degree swaths around my raised penis, Wendy began gently jerking it off by its base with her thumb, index and middle fingers that were snugly intertwined around it. As I looked down to see the top of Wendy's head swirling in small circles above my crotch, I couldn't help but notice the speedometer said the car had slowed to 55 miles an hour. Trying to muster the coordination to speed the car back up so I wouldn't attract any undo attention, I couldn't help but notice Lindsey's picture once again, resting peacefully on the dash, her eyes seemingly like the Mona Lisa's, watching every move the young girl made, doing her best to suck me off. I mouthed the words, "I'm sorry" to my wife's picture in front of me as the young girl eagerly continued her perverted payback. Leaning back as far in the seat as I could, my entire cock jutted up into the air and slammed deep into Wendy's working mouth until I felt its sensitive head slam against the soft back wall of her moist throat. Wendy gulped and snorted, breathing now through her flared nostrils as she tried to finish me off. Helplessly, I took my right hand off the steering wheel and placed it on the top of Wendy's head, rolling her long ponytail between my fingers as the young woman built up a furious, pistoning rhythm with her mouth on my lathered joint. Seeing the picture of my family sitting in front of me also brought to the surface lurid visions of many of the hard bodied, young girls that my daughter Kimberly palled around with. In my thoughts as a normal heterosexual man over the past few years, I had secretly lusted after many of them but never for once though, actually acting on those impulses. As Wendy continued her expert technique, I closed my eyes and for just a few moments imagined it was a few of those other young girls down there right now giving me that private pleasure. Sitting there with my eyes closed, feeling the soft, angelic texture of Wendy's hair in my trembling right hand, her pink fleshy tongue sliding up and down my erect throbbing shaft, I felt the inner muscles connecting my genitals begin to twitch. Just as I opened my eyes to instinctively check the road in front of me, my warm and frothy seminal fluid bubbled to the surface and emptied into young Wendy Bennett's sucking mouth. "GGGGEEEZZZZ....UUUSSSSSSS," I cringed as my teeth bit down hard on my lower lip. The moment Wendy felt my creamy, sizzling seed ricochet against the back of her throat, she hurriedly increased her manual stimulation on my cock, stroking her fingers sadistically around its girth, taking special care to grazing her fingers up and down the sensitive bottom vein that runs from the head of the cock down to its base, squeezing it tight as if she was trying to get toothpaste out of a tube. I could feel my spasming dick inside Wendy's mouth, bathed in the mixture of her saliva and cum, until her throat began convulsing in an attempt to swallow the accumulated fluids swimming in her mouth. When I was finally done, Wendy pulled away, taking special care to lick off the remnants of my ejaculation before politely returning my cock inside my pants and zipping them back up. With almost eerie ease, Wendy leaned back over into the passenger seat, licked her lips a few times as if nothing had ever happened and calmly asked, "How far till we get to Rapid City?" * * * * * Wendy and I passed the "Welcome to Rapid City" sign at 11 minutes after 6 that Friday afternoon. Following the directions she fed me, we meandered through the outskirt streets of town until we came upon the garage Wendy had called about going to get her broken down car. I sat alone in my car while she went inside to give them her credit card number and figure out the details of her car's disposal. As Wendy did her thing inside, I was left to sit there in the late afternoon heat, in the half empty parking lot, surrounded by a litany of broken down vehicles. A significant part of me felt as if I should be basking in the glow of one of life's shining moments. I had just gotten a spontaneous blowjob from a beautiful, complete stranger and on top of that I had the internal ego satisfaction of being such a good Samaritan, helping out the young girl in her time of desperation, because if I hadn't, she still could be walking the harsh Dakota Plains until someone less scrupulous came along and did God knows what to her. Still though, I couldn't bring myself to ooze complete victory. Part of me felt as broken down and in need of repair as all the various towed in cars surrounding me. I kept feeling the images in the picture of my wife and kids in front of me we watching and saying hurtful, cruel, if not truthful, things to me over and over as I wallowed in my own confused afterglow. Wendy opened the passenger side door, effectively snapping me out of my mild hypnosis. "We are in the middle of nowhere," Wendy cringed as she sat back down and slammed the door shut. "Huh," I said, still lost in my dreamland, "What do you mean?" "The guys inside were looking at me like they've never seen a woman before," Wendy sighed with a hint of cockiness. "Ohhhh," I answered, finally getting her drift. "So...," Wendy said, her voice suddenly becoming more sober and serious.".....You wanna fuck me don't you." Her blunt, albeit, slightly emotionless question left me stunned and speechless. As my mouth soundlessly worked, trying to formulate a reasonable response, Wendy picked up on my hesitation and ran with it. "I'm stuck here for the night...you said you were staying here tonight too..."Wendy slowly spoke, folding her arms over one another. "I just gave you a blowjob that your fingers are still quivering about, "Wendy said without a hit of shyness, looking down onto my lap with a slightly arrogant grin. "So whatta ya say....no reason wasting two rooms... huh?" I helplessly looked down and saw that she was right, my fingers were in fact still twitching slightly from the pleasurable sensations coursing through my body, compliments of her. "You said you already had a room reserved....didn't you?" Wendy asked matter-of-factly. "Yeah...the Courtyard...somewhere around here," I heard myself answer distantly. I looked over at the pretty young girl sitting beside me, the mix of lust for her and loyalty to my wife painfully and clearly etched across my haggard face as I tried my damndest to figure out what to do next. Wendy could clearly see the dilemma in my cloudy, confused expression, but instead of consoling me....she decided to make the decision for me. "The guy inside said the Courtyard is two blocks up on the left." And so it was. * * * * * "YOU FILTHY....MOTHERFUCKING... GODDAMN.... BASTARD....HOW COULD YOU?" I have never been shot or stabbed in my life, but at that moment I felt as if both a bullet had sliced through my belly and a knife had been plunged into my heart chamber and twisted sadistically. I guess I should have known something was not right when I checked in at the lobby and the desk clerk, who's normally a lifeless asshole at most of those places, seemed to be positively beaming when I told him my name and asked for my key to the room. The second clue came when I pulled around to the room and saw an airport rental car with Wisconsin plates sitting in the stall beside the room. Obviously just a coincidence I thought. Still, with my present company, I was irrationally worried someone I might vaguely know from back home might recognize me with a girl young enough to be my daughter even though the girl I was with looked nothing like my daughter. As I helped Wendy out of the car and ushered her towards the room, key in hand, anticipating hungrily a night of passion with this confident and skillful young woman, that's when those loud, screeching words crashed through my eardrums, piercing me to the core. In my hurry to get Wendy inside, I never even noticed the figure of a person sitting in the driver's seat of the rental car beside us. Unfortunately, that person was my wife Lindsey. I had beaten myself up over and over the whole trip because I wasn't going to be able to spend my 22nd anniversary with faithful, loving and devoted wife. And here I was standing there in the parking lot, emotional bullet holes leaking my soul to the ground below, totally forgetting about the 20something girl standing beside me. I knew though from Lindsey's burning eyes, she fully noticed Wendy standing beside me, her arm and mine still frozenly intertwined. * * * * * Later on, I would piece together the obvious clues; Lindsey harping on what hotel I was staying at and my estimated time of arrival in Rapid City on our previous day's phone call, the strange, almost shit eating grin on the desk clerk's face as I asked for my key when he knew full well another woman claiming to be my wife had asked what room I was in a half an hour earlier, and worst of all, my deep-seated knowledge that Lindsey would have good through Hell or high water to get to spend our anniversary together. So in truth, I shouldn't have been at all surprised that she had decided to surprise me. All that really doesn't matter now I guess, a year later. The lawyers have taken care of all the dirty work. When that happened just over a year ago, I had the world in the palm of my hands, both in a business and a personal sense. Today, I still have the same position at work but with the combination of the spousal support, along with the money for Mark to finish college and the child support for Kim along with savings for her college fund, I'm making far less than I would have in my old position, still happily married and being able to be a Father every day. The words from that Springsteen song really do ring true...Poor men do really want to be rich and rich men really do want to be king, and then its true...a king ain't satisfied until he rules everything... I learned the hard way. THE END Thanks for Reading If you want to get in touch with the author he can be reached at jprobx@webtv.net.
