"Going far, my dear?"
"Far enough. I haven't made up my mind yet."
"Oh?" The woman smiled, her eyes on the road ahead as the car picked up speed. "I hope you're not running away from home."
"Nope. Nothing like that." Judy made up a story in a hurry. "I'm just traveling. I left a drunken stepfather behind me, and I'm thinking about visiting my aunt in California."
"California. You do have a distance to go. But aren't you rather young to be hitchhiking alone?"
"I'm older than I look. And more experienced, too. Don't worry, I can take care of myself."
"If you say so. Incidentally, my name is Vera. Vera Carlisle and I live in Malvern. That's where I'm going now. It's west of here, a hundred and fifty miles or thereabouts, so we're certainly headed in the right direction for you."
"Yeah. Thanks. That's great."
"And how about you, my dear, won't you tell me who you are? Not that I'm inquisitive at least not overly so but since we're riding together I'll have to call you something, won't I?"
"Oh. Sorry. Call me Judy. Judy Jones."
"Judy Jones. Glad to know you, Judy. And glad to have you aboard, I must admit. It's a long and weary drive to Malvern, and a bit of company will help keep me awake."
Nodding happily, Judy relaxed and settled back into the comfort of the cushioned seat. She had it made. A hundred and fifty miles on her first hitch and with someone who seemed absolutely safe now, someone who might even make the journey pleasant. Someone who just wanted company; what luck!
She peered at the woman surreptitiously, a sidelong glance out of the corner of her eye, quite impressed by the vision. Some solid body there, big and ripe and bulging with sex appeal. Beautiful hair, too auburn, it looked like, auburn hair piled high on her head almost like a crown. Blue eyes, evidently, although it was hard to tell for sure in this light. Nice features, though, no doubt about that, and her creamy skin had a kind of glow to it. Pearly. Iridescent, that was the word. Uh-huh. For an old dame late thirties, at least this Vera something-or-other was impressive, all right. Carlisle? Yeah, that sounded like it, Vera Carlisle. Pretty gorgeous, in a maturely stacked way. Hardly the typical housewife. And rich, of course, judging by her clothes and by this car, not new but still quite a buggy. Judy wondered what it would be like to live like that, never worrying about money or security. Dull, maybe. And then again, maybe not. Considering her own lousy life in the slums and behind reformatory walls, who was she to say?
Her eyelids drooped after a while, and she began to feel the effects of the long day. Like a steel spring losing its tension. And then, somehow even with her eyes closed she knew the woman was looking at her. Surveying her, looking her over carefully, more so than should have been necessary by now. She could almost sense that auburn head turning, the quizzical gaze shifting back and forth between the windshield and herself. As though there was something peculiar involved, something out of the ordinary…
Slowly, imperceptibly, Judy's eyes became narrow slits. She was being ogled, no doubt about it. A patch of her bare thigh was showing. And that seemed to be the target for those intermittent peeks. It might have stemmed from mere curiosity, admittedly, but she had already caught a more complex intimation. Was it possible that she had been picked up by a dyke?
She experimented with the notion, allowing more leg to show, squirming a little to maneuver the flap of the trenchcoat. And then the reaction came, the sound, a near-stifled gasp, just audible enough to confirm her suspicions. Lesbian! Or a reasonable facsimile. The woman might not bear the name, but she was sure playing the game still casting those too-curious glances, still ogling her young flesh, still coming on like a dirty old man.
Okay, what about it? Judy pondered the issue. She wasn't exactly unfamiliar with gay games, the girl-girl stuff, having played around herself back at the reformatory. It hadn't been much, though, just a little halfway measure to let off some steam when the kids got all moony over memories of their boy-friends. She had always steered clear of anything more serious, avoiding the butchy types who really went in for that sort of thing. Not that there wasn't plenty of it going on, in spite of the strict rules and regulations. There were even some wild rumors about the matrons, for that matter, although most have them had been real dogs, too fat and ugly to be interesting even if the situation got desperate.
But this one now this Vera Carlisle person was neither butchy nor repulsive. Playing games with her might even be fun. And she was rich, wasn't she? Why not turn a predicament into an advantage? Let her ogle the fresh young meat then, let her get all hotted up and hopeful; wouldn't a rich bitch like that be generous with her loot at the right moment? She sure looked like a soft touch. Couldn't she be persuaded to help a sweet young kid replenish her wardrobe? A few extra bucks would sure come in handy. The idea would have to be broached gently, of course in a roundabout manner, the subtle approach not like a whore dickering with her John. Even if it did amount to the same thing in the end. Judy was well aware of the commercial value of her body. A man would have been willing to pay for it. And wasn't a dyke something like a man?
Again she shut her eyes, nestling into the seat and letting the coat ride high on her thighs. But she wasn't so sleepy now. Just worn out from the long day. Worn out but wide-awake and wondering about the long night ahead.
Chapter 2
The highway ran straight and smooth. The car practically drove itself, and Vera's grip on the wheel was relaxed and restful. But nothing else felt that way. Only her hands. The rest of her body was a mass of tension. Because of the girl…
And because of the length of pale thigh that gleamed so bewitchingly in the dim light from the dashboard. How could she relax in the presence of such tempting flesh? It was like a glowing beacon that demanded her attention. So exciting! The bare thigh and everything else. So young! No longer an adolescent, perhaps, but not yet a woman. Hardly more than a child, really, and yet the little devil exuded a certain erotic sensuality. The mop of curly brown hair, the piquant heart-shaped face, the deep brown eyes now concealed by thickly fringed lids; what a paradox that such a kitten-like creature could seem so sexy.
But there was no other word for it. Sexy. Despite her incomplete development, the kid was already exquisitely endowed. Her breasts were small, but the nicely formed conical shapes jutted enticingly. And there was no hint of teenage spindliness in those lyrelike curves accentuated by the knotted trenchcoat belt. Even when the traffic grew heavy enough to require some concentration, Vera couldn't keep her eyes from drifting over to take stock.
Hmm. Take stock? The obtrusive thought made her wince. But she was doing it, just the same measuring that body and imagining it naked in bed. Asinine, to say the least. As if she had designs on the sweet young thing. After all, she was much too involved with a sweet young thing of her own not quite so young, of course, but infinitely sweeter. And her sweet Alison was a known quantity, pretty much, not a vague figure in the night like this intriguing but cryptic roadside waif.
It did make the journey less tedious, though. Delightful to look at, delightful indeed. And stirring, too, in spite of the mixture of fatigue and despondency resulting from that long conference with the lawyer in Springfield. At the moment, it was even easy to forget money problems and such. Good for morale, actually. Wouldn't it be fun to find some excuse to stop somewhere and explore the possibilities of this chance encounter?