The Road Warrior- Ch. 1

Author's Note: It has been a while since I went after a longer series, and I am feeling the itch. This series will be a different take than the 'My Neighbor" series, in that I want to explore different events and scenarios, rather than focus on relationships. If all goes according to the loose plan in my head, one or more of these chapters will be true, to the best I can recall. Because I used to be a Road Warrior...
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The Road Warrior- Ch. 1

Road Warrior:

noun



That is me. A Road Warrior. It isn’t often that you see a woman who spends the majority of her time traveling for business, especially in my field, but it was a position I earned through hard work, tenacity, a can-do attitude, and the threat of sexual discrimination if I didn’t get the promotion. I had worked at the company for 4 solid years and had excelled at every position, assignment, and task thrown at me. I had a boss, named Sydney, who seemed to take sadistic delight in coming up with new ways for me to fail. Only Karma smiled upon me and seemed to throw every right answer at me just when I needed it.

It was not easy being in my job, at my age, and as a woman with my looks. Being five foot four inches, with long red hair, a 34-26-34 figure, and C-cupped breasts made the men around me more lusty than professional. I had to endure a lot of things, the whisperings behind my back, the men betting on who could bed me, the ‘accidental’ groping, as well as the demeaning nicknames. One of them was also being dosed and gang-***** at a major corporate function. I had only been married five months back then, but I couldn’t tell my husband about it, because I knew he would go ballistic and storm into the corporate headquarters on a rampage. He might find the men who did it to me, but it would destroy my career in the process. So, I had to suck it up and keep it a secret. The truth could eventually come out, but not with my involvement, but that is another story. Sadly, keeping secrets was something I had learned how to do early in my life.

Growing up, I was a little bit of a late bloomer, but when I blossomed, boy did I! I went from teenybopper to fully developed woman in one Summer, it seemed, and it made my Junior year in high school harder because I had never had boys hanging around me, or trying to get me to go steady with them, or any of that. It also didn’t help that my parents saw what the boys did and clamped down on me like a vise. No boyfriend, no dating, no wearing anything other than jeans or ankle-length dresses or skirts. I couldn’t stay out past 8:00 PM, even in Summer, and if they called me, I had better answer on the second ring. So, I started having a secret boyfriend.

We would hang out, and when the moment struck, we would make out and feel each other up. But I couldn’t go too far, because my mom would take me to her OB/GYN periodically for a ‘check-up’. Part of this required a medical examination that verified that I still had my hymen in place. My boyfriend was nice, and his name was Jeremy, but like all things, our relationship was not going to last. Mainly because of something that happened three weeks before school started for our Junior year.

Jeremy was taking me to the movies one weekday afternoon, and so I wanted to dress the part. I was tired of looking like a ******** and wanted to dress as a woman should for going on a date. I had managed to sneak out an outfit that I felt was more reflecting that. I had my pink silk blouse and white cotton skater skirt, and I had managed to buy some white pantyhose with my white church high heels to wear for my date. When Jeremy saw me, he smiled and whistled, holding me to him in a warm and wonderful hug, which we ended with a long, powerful French kiss, before we went inside the theater.

The movie was decent, and we spent a little more time necking in the back, ******* that three of the more wrong-side-of-the-train tracks kind of boys had snuck in to watch the movie. When the movie was over, they were laughing it up as Jeremy escorted me down the steps, only to be stopped when they saw me in my miniskirt and heels. They didn’t waste any time, and simply grabbed me by each arm, lifting and dragging me out the emergency exit kicking and screaming. The third black guy ran interference with Jeremy, who was following behind and trying to grab me as well, to pull me free. The door slammed shut behind us, and I was dragged deeper down into the alley, a place I was very unfamiliar with. That was where Jeremy and I got separated. He was yelling and trying to interfere, and I guess one of them finally had enough and punched him in the stomach, and down he went, the wind knocked out of him. I was able to glance back and see him take a couple of kicks, as well.

Meanwhile, the two guys who had kidnapped me had emerged out of the alley and I was in the part of town I had been warned about since I was a little girl. It was a place never to never to step foot in. The Williams Projects, named after the then-Mayor. We all called it the Willies because that was what we got when even thinking about it. Now I was in it, and it was dawning on me what they were going to do. I gave it my very best effort, and wriggled in their grasp, flailing my legs to kick them, but all they did was use my arms and armpits to lift me higher. Looking back, it was like they had practiced doing this before. I saw a few black people looking at us as I wriggled and screamed, some shook their heads, some gawked, and a few laughed. They knew what was up. It would be three black cocks in me.

They took a turn and dashed inside a burned-out building that had no glass windows and the doors were all broken. Once we were deep enough in the building, they took me into a room they must’ve used before, because there was a creaky old bed with a filthy mattress and a couple of chairs, along with a rickety table. There was the smell of pot and trash everywhere. I think it had once been someone’s apartment because there was a small room stinking of urine and excrement on one side. It had to be the bathroom.

They held me down on the bed and started to grope me everywhere. My boobs, my crotch, and even my butt, when they were manhandling me around. At one point I wound up standing on my heels, and my head forcibly slammed into the bed as they twisted my arms to control me. I could see myself looking between my legs, my heels were being forced apart, and I felt hands up under my skirt. They were calling out to each other that they found a great piece of white ass, and how they were going to ‘fuck this white bitch up’, and maybe turn me into a whore. Once they discovered I was wearing pantyhose, instead of panties, they started to yank them down and pull them off. My heels came off in the process and then they forced me onto the bed on my back, using my pantyhose to tie my wrists over my head. My blouse was ripped open, and then one of them pulled out a knife and cut my bra off.

The way they were hooting and yelling, you would have thought they had won the state football championship. They loved my breasts, and it seemed like instantly I was being grabbed hard, my nipples pinched and licked. Since I was a virgin and had planned to remain one until I married, I couldn’t understand the feelings I was receiving. The painful pleasures, the burning passion as my body was molested. A hand was up under my skirt and fondling my vagina, sliding up and down and I felt myself getting warm inside. Later, I would come to understand this as my vagina was making ready for a man. Or in this case, older boys. Or maybe men. I honestly didn’t know how old they were, but they were certainly older than me.

I tried to kick at them, but now barefoot, my feet had no sting on them, as my heels were in the room somewhere. That was when I saw my first real cock in person. It was dark black and bigger than I would have thought, but when one of them pinched my nose closed, my mouth automatically opened, and soon I was tasting it. The feel was something different like I was sucking on a velvety pillowcase, or at least, that is how it felt on my tongue. With the new sensations of sucking a big black cock, I was ******* that my legs were being parted, and my knees bent widely apart. It was while I had that cock deep in my mouth and I was struggling to breathe and not choke by the repeated attempts to shove it down my throat, that I felt my petals being forced apart, and I was being opened. I couldn’t look down, but it had to be bigger than my finger, and as it was sliding up and down, I felt all sorts of more arousing sensations. I couldn’t understand it. I was scared out of my wits, and yet I was feeling so much pleasure. There was just so much sensory input going on, that I couldn’t decide anything, other than to try and breathe. That was when I felt the pain of my pussy being opened, and my cherry about to be taken.

I was writhing under the guy trying to hump me, while I had a black cock thrusting past my lips, and a black mouth suckling my nipples so hard it was like he was trying to remove them. All the while I felt hands all over me, groping, squeezing, and bruising me. At some point, the cock pushing inside me was able to stretch me enough to where he slipped inside, which hurt, but oh, wow, did it feel special! It made me stop wriggling, and his next couple of thrusts forced more and more of him into my slick, tight vagina, until I felt this weird tension for a moment, and then a sharp pain as my hymen ruptured. I had just lost my maidenhood and become a full-fledged woman.

Now that I was a woman, that woman would be gang-*****, molested, mauled, groped, bruised, and inseminated by all three of them. Each time they mounted me, it just kept feeling better and better, and soon enough, these black cocks were making me orgasm almost at will. I had massaged myself to climax before, but oh… my… goodness! The sex was GREAT! Even though I was being *****, I could not get over how good it felt. It was very confusing to me.

After what was maybe an hour, I was just worn out, and I couldn’t even resist. I just took what they offered, which was loads of virile, vital semen in my vagina, while making me have multiple orgasms. I was forced to suck their cocks clean, as well as kiss them all lewdly. I had hickeys on my neck, my breasts, inner my inner thighs. I was so tired that I eventually passed out, and it was dark when I awoke. I was also alone.

I tried to move and discovered that I was still tied to the bed. It took some considerable shifting, flexing, and wriggling before I could move myself around and use my teeth to get my wrists loose. I found my heels, put them on, and stumbled my way out, my top was torn and essentially useless. My bra was long gone, so I gave up on it as I tried to find my way back. I tried to retrace my steps, and it took maybe another hour before I found the alley and the movie theater.

What I didn’t know was that Jeremy had been knocked out as well, and someone had found him and then called the police. Paramedics came and took him to the hospital, but since he was out of it, nobody knew anything other than he had been beaten up pretty badly. Things went South when my parents came home from work, and I wasn’t there. My mom was a former Playboy Model, and my *** was a prominent defense lawyer. So, when she called 911, and then my ***, Panic started to ensue. He started to reach out to his contacts, and things started to get intense. The police came to my house and talked with my mom, who was getting hysterical. My *** showed up, and he was reportedly really pissed off, and as the cops were trying to figure everything out, Jeremy woke up. After calling his parents, he called my house, hoping I had gotten home. That was when the shit hit the fan.

I had heard sirens all around me, and I saw cop cars everywhere, but I didn’t want to be caught because, in my mind, I was nearly naked and didn’t want to get in trouble. I was trying to play hide-and-seek wearing a bright white miniskirt and heels, while covering my breasts with my arms, all the while leaking a trail of black cum down my leg. My mom was raising all sorts of Hell and had called the media, and well, she got attention because she was very pretty and a former Playboy Model. My *** was stirring up the pot by contacting all of his political whomever, and the poor police were crisscrossing the city looking for the kidnapped and black-***** white girl who was doing her best not to be found because she thought she was in trouble.

I was losing it now, and finally hunkered down in the shadows of a doorway and started to cry. Not small tears, but big fat, ugly crying. I remember some lady coming to me, asking if I was alright, and calling the police. It was probably 15 seconds between her hanging up the phone and the first sirens. But I was found, and paramedics arrived, and the next thing I knew, I was in the same hospital as Jeremy. My parents showed up very soon after that, and my folks were so angry with me that they got kicked out of the ER and had to wait in the lobby. It took the police and the nurses to get me some peace.

My one big takeaway from that experience, other than having to endure the humiliation of the sexual assault evidence kit the police questioning, and the wrath of my parents, was that I learned that sex was fun. For some reason, the more extreme it was, the more fun I had. When I was a free woman again, out from under the domineering thumb of my parents, I started playing riskier games with sex, too. I would test things. Like could I get home if I was stripped naked at the park and sneak back home? How much of a tease could I be and get away with it? How short of a dress could I wear? What if I ‘forgot’ my panties? How slutty could I look and what would happen? I never actually got caught, but there were some very close calls.

Once settled in at school, I also started dating black guys. My parents were nearly apoplectic, but by then I was old enough to make my own decisions. Besides, college was coming up, and I would be staying in a dorm. Which became staying at a Sorority. I didn’t exclude white guys, or any other guys for that matter, but if a black guy asked me out, not only was I saying yes, but there was a great chance he was getting laid that night. Or that afternoon. Or both. I took more and more risks, too, and started to push the line, by going into The Willies, and seeing what trouble I could get into. The answer was plenty. I was getting ***** more and more and having more and more orgasms. It was then I realized that the farther I was from home, the safer it was for me to be *****, so I could have more orgasms. I would go to The Willies, a lot.

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My career started while I was still in my Senior year of college. I had my sights set on a career in the financial sector, in sales and marketing, with a minor in accounting. I was recruited during my final semester, to work for a national corporation. I would start at the bottom and work my way up, through hard work, perseverance, and a few veiled threats. It was during all of this that I met the man I would marry. Steve. Handsome, smart, and well-built in just about every way, he was what every woman could want in a husband. Even my parents loved him. For the first time in my womanhood, I thought I had now found my new life, and would happily leave my old one behind. He was on the technical side of our company, and so he was doing a mix of office and fieldwork, and not long after we got married, he got promoted, and was moved inside the office, so now it was my turn to be a road warrior.

This was also about the time the old itch came back. Steve and I had a good, strong, loving marriage. We were mostly compatible sexually, too, though with one exception. His manhood was average, which was fine, but he was always treating me like a fine crystal. We always made love, and never just fucked. I would try and playfully deny him, and instead of overpowering me and having his way with his wife, he took me at my word and would stop. No matter how badly I teased him, I could not get him to be rough with me, or to make it impossible for me to say no. He would be a gentleman with me, no matter the cost. It was so frustrating!

But now I was a road warrior.

I had been assigned a territory that was a solid three-hour drive from home. In a way, it sucked. Too close to fly, and yet a long drive to get there. Plus, the market I was now serving wasn’t the highest volume, and the six cities there were not exactly thriving. People did not flock to live there, but with the lower cost of living and if you didn’t mind the lower standard of living to go with it, well, it would work out. Crime and drugs were the main problems, but I could live with that. I had spent time in The Willies, hadn’t I?

My first two trips were just overwhelming. I was working so hard that at the end of the day, I went to my hotel room and collapsed. Yet even as I lay in bed, images, and fantasies kept creeping back into my mind’s eye. Teasing men, being ***** by black men, and suffering the humiliation of it all. Sometimes it was so strong that only Jill would be able to satisfy me. It was my third trip when I finally managed to do something other than collapse. So, I went to the hotel bar after work. It was just a short walk, and Summer, so there was plenty of daylight as I entered the bar. I was surprised to find it was rather filled with people. Oddly, there was a mix of people dressed like business travelers after-hours like me and some very casual customers. I almost felt out of place since I was still fully dressed.

I was wearing a very wide-leg pair of rich purple satin pants and a tan chiffon blouse. The satin was so silky and smooth that I could only wear the tiniest of G-strings while wearing them. My wearing G-strings was something my husband enjoyed if it was for him, but for others, I don’t think he approved. The blouse had pockets over where my breasts would have been *******, but I was wearing a tan bralette to provide some small amount of support and ensure that my nipples were covered from prying eyes. If my nipples got cold, however, there was no way to hide those hardened gumdrops, which is exactly what I wanted before making a sales contact. My heels were strappy black patent-leather sandals.

I made my way to the bar and a gentleman acted as a true gentleman, giving me his stool at the bar so I could slide up and have a seat. Setting my clutch on the bar, I had to use both hands to clutch the bar and place my foot on the bar rail to climb up. It took me a minute to realize why bar stools were so much harder to climb onto. I used to wear platform heels back in my clubbing days, some of them having even six or seven-inch heels, and even those extra couple of inches helped. I was musing on that when a margarita magically appeared in front of me. The bartender smiled and gestured down the bar.

I looked down and saw a distinguished-looking man, with graying temples. He was not bad looking at all, but between the button-down shirt and open collar, the expensive wristwatch, and the wedding ring, I knew he was an immediate turndown. If a married man was going to throw me down and make me his, that was one thing. But I was not a homewrecker. A few weeks later, our paths would cross in a more professional setting, and I was so happy I declined to be a notch on his bedpost.

Drinking the free liquor, I was just looking around when I felt a hand ‘accidentally’ caress my backside. I was used to it happening when I wore something satiny. Guys won’t admit it, but they like the fabric, too. This time, though, the hand stayed and began to slide up and down, which dragged my attention to the owner. I turned and saw a very heavy-set Hispanic man. A quick look down told me his suit was made at ‘Tents R Us’, and the gray color didn’t work for his dark Hispanic heritage. Not did the yellow paisley tie which was far too short for his belly. His face was too close for comfort, and I tried to lean back but was trapped against the back of the person next to me.

“Hey, Beautiful. Waiting for someone?”

“Ummm... hi… and no, I’m not. I am just unwinding from a long day.”

“So, what’s your name, Sweetheart?” Between his slick-backed hair and weird smile, I was about as turned off as I could get.

“Suzi. What’s yours?” I had to be polite, but I switched hands on my drink to start displaying my wedding ring.

“I’m Juan, Beautiful. How about as soon as you finish your drink, I take you someplace and buy you dinner?”

“I appreciate your offer, but I don’t think my husband would appreciate that.” I made a more obvious display of my ring, now.

I don’t know why I didn’t think about it, but his hand never left my ass, and he was continually rubbing, feeling my taut bubble butt under the satin conforming to it. It was just then that something was either dropped or fell, and the sound of crashing and breaking glassware was everywhere. I turned to look, as did so many others, and then a soft smattering of applause as we realized it was one of the servers who had dropped a tray of empty glasses. Shaking my head, I looked back.

“Such an unfortunate accident, I feel bad for a woman like that?”

“Oh? What do you mean?” I sipped from my drink.

“Oh, just that she is working hard, and guys will give her a harder time.”

“What do you mean a harder time?” Again, another sip. I wanted to down the drink so I could make my excuses and get away from this slimy would-be womanizer.

“I’m sure you didn’t see, but she is a very pretty girl, but not as pretty as you, of course, and all of these business travelers have been asking her for a date, or to spend the night. You can’t blame us. Some of us travel a lot, and if we have a woman at home, they are more interested in taking care of the kids than they are in me.”

I caught his last words. It spoke volumes. Okay, so he is not getting what he wants at home, so he wants to get it on the road. ‘Well, lots of luck, Dude. I am not your Miss Right-Now.’ I thought to myself.

Draining my glass, I set it in front of me, and I made my excuses.

“Juan, I hope you have a better night, but I am going to head to my room.”

“Of course, Suzi. Thank you for your time. Here, let me help you down.”

I wasn’t in any particular difficulty to slide down from the barstool, but Juan took the opportunity to feel me up, grasping me by my crotch from behind and reaching under my armpit to collect my boob in his, thick, stubby fingers. I had to admit that he was immensely strong, but he had to be, to move that immense bulk. Setting me down, I was a little off-balance, and I started to lean into the guy on the other side of me. Juan captured my arm pulled me back to him, and wrapped his arm around my waist.

“Come, Suzi, let me help you to your room. It seems you have had more than you should. The bartender here pours them very strong.”

I looked up to him, and I had to admit, having a bulldozer to push the ever-growing crowd out of me would not hurt. So, I let him lead me out, and I directed him to my room, which was on the first floor but it was across the hotel. Once we had space, I started to work my way free of his grasp, his one hand on my waist with his arm around me, and the other on my nearest arm, holding me to him.

“Lemme go, Juan. I’m fine now, thank you.”

To his credit, he let me go as he stepped with me, and after a few steps, I somehow stumbled, and he grabbed me again. Only now, something wasn’t right.

“Easy Suzi, I’ll get you to your room, just give me the number.”

I somehow managed to mumble out the number, and that was the last I remember until I was thrown down on my bed. Only now, Juan was naked, in his over 300 pounds of flabby glory, sporting a sloppy erection. My jaw also was sore, and I was feeling colder. I realized I was naked, and what was now happening. Juan had somehow gotten me alone and was going to **** me.

“No” I managed to slur out.

“Oh, come now, slut. A girl like you? I bet you fuck every guy you see. I had you pegged as a whore until I saw the ring. I was gonna hire you, but now, you are just a free fuck.”

I tried to get up and managed to roll onto my side, my soft voice moaning in disorientation. I knew I had developed this intense fetish to be *****. But not like this. By then, Juan was on my bed with me, and he yanked me back flat on my back. His face mashed into mine, and his lips kissed me in a very sloppy, wet kiss. His tongue then found a weak fight with my mouth, and he pried my lips open to lewdly kiss me, licking all around my mouth, a savage display of sexual demand. I tried to use my tongue to somehow push his out, but all that did was allow him to lick under my tongue, and then hold my tongue captive, while he drooled his saliva and made me swallow it. It was disgusting, but I could do nothing about it. That was when I felt him force my legs apart.

His fat hands grabbed my ankles and lifted them high and wide, bending them back against me. My vagina was directly ******* to him, he held my ankles back with one hand and reached under his layers of flab and fat to grasp his cock and begin to feed it to my helpless pussy. He had to shift a couple of times, but we both felt it, my slickness as he began to rub along my slit. His cock was not some great gift, but he was thicker than my husband. Rising to his toes, he angled his bulk over me, nearly flattening me as he began to engage his leaking cock with my opening. Once he was engaged, he began to thrust, my body giving up resisting. I had no strength and what little fight I had put up was pretty feeble. His technique could best be described as absent. He had no care about me or my body or injuring me. He immediately began to thrust at me, hard and rapidly, until my vagina surrendered, and he battered his way fully into me.

He started to squeal, almost like a piglet as he thrust almost frantically. I don’t know how long it was, only that he smelled worse than I thought as he was smearing me with his oily skin, and he had halitosis. Even the guys who stole my virginity were more pleasurable than Juan was. At least they made me orgasm. Juan was simply thrusting inside me as fast as he could, squealing every time, until his body couldn’t hold back, and he shoved his cock into me as far as he could reach before he ejaculated inside me.

He had gotten his, but I hadn’t. But truthfully, in my reduced consciousness, having pleasure didn’t even enter the picture. I was just in this lost floating world, where I could see some fat slob fucking this petite redhead. That was the last I would remember until I woke up in the middle of the night, alone, aching and sore, feeling filthy, and hungover. I also had this horrid taste in my mouth. I stumbled into the bathroom to use the bathroom, and it was when I sat down that I realized I had seen in and on me. I belatedly realized that this guy Juan had ***** me twice, having cum in my mouth and my vagina. I sat there, confused and hurt, not knowing what to do for the longest moments. I cried, which hurt as my chest was wracked with sobs and since I was so sore, I couldn’t help it. But as my tears finished, I realized now that while at the moment I had no idea what was going on, afterward, I was getting aroused.

I made my way back to my bed, flopped down, spread my legs, and started to massage my vulva, and I grew wet. I dug a finger inside to tease my sweet spot, feeling Juan’s slimy deposit in me. I was moaning, voicing my imagined ****, smearing his seed all around my petals and tunnel, even lifting my legs as I begged him not to impregnate me. That was when I detonated, and I shuddered violently on the bed, my voice screaming into the pillow beside me. Gasping for air I lay there and came to the realization that I had been drugged and *****. Gasping in recovery, I reached the only conclusion I could. It was so hot!

My phone alarm chimed only a few minutes later, and as I reached for it, I also realized something that chilled my spine. Somehow, Juan now had my contact information.