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By Varangian (Kesper@nls.net)

Jack Flemming had to piss. Badly. He was not oblivious to the magnificent sunset; indeed he wondered at the dramatic coloring of the clouds ahead of him and to his left, all painted in hues of the warm spectrum with dark undertones. The sight pleased him and softened a bit his usual hostile, defensive demeanor, but it did nothing for his painfully distended bladder.
His principle concern at the moment was to reach the rest area a few miles ahead, and when he came in sight of that oasis on I-75 near Birch Run the clouds had lost their glorious luster and the pine trees through which the highway passed became dark sentinels. He eased up on the accelerator as he entered the long off ramp to the rest stop. Ahead were two lines of semis, their motors running, although many of the cabs were empty. A sign indicated that he should bear right to enter the parking area for passenger vehicles, which he did, coming to a stop among a group of cars and vans, each dutifully occupying a space defined by white lines.
Flemming hurried from his car and made his way quickly to the small building. His immediate goal was the men's room, which he found to be neat and clean. There were half a dozen urinals against the wall with partitions between each to protect the bashful, none of them occupied. Jack unzipped, brought forth his penis and sighed deeply as he emptied his filled bladder.
As he pushed on the faucet to rinse his hands he looked into the mirror before him which reflected back the face of a man neither young nor old. Not yet forty! Jack reminded himself defiantly.
A plain blonde face stared back at him with a morose lack of good humor. Jack looked away from the image, not liking it. It was the face of a person who had failed in life, he thought. His business was gone, lost, as well as his wife and their two children. He was not entirely broke; he had some money. But he was very much at loose ends. He felt he needed, somehow, to redefine himself, to find a purpose, now that his comfortable world had shattered around him.
He still had a long drive ahead of him, until he reached his cabin on a small lake south of Cheboygan, where he intended to drink himself to sleep. He did not bother to look at the maps on the walls, when he came out of the men's room and into the brightly lit, spacious reception area of the rest stop, because he knew where he was and where he was going.
When he pushed through the main door of the building, he encountered a group of five men in suits standing close by the entrance who were deep in conversation, murmuring in low voices. They were cops or other holders of special privilege, Jack knew at once, and he steered clear of them, not liking the breed.
He was eager to go back onto the highway, to reach his modest lake-side cabin to the north, where he hoped to put aside the debacle of his life, where he would drink, fish, and wait for a quiet moment to plan for the future.
His Taurus sedan, metallic green with just twenty thousand miles on the odometer summoned him. It held fruit, candy bars and crackers to calm his rumbling stomach, as well as unopened bottles of vodka. Newly refreshed and for a moment optimistic Jack got into his car, started the engine and set off past the line of semis for the interstate.
He was not on the highway very long, not quite up to speed, when he detected a strange scent in the car. And then he heard a small cough from the back seat.
"Who are you?" he demanded, not knowing what to do in the situation, going seventy miles an hour in heavy, weekend traffic. In his rear view mirror he saw a figure rise behind him.
A girl's voice sounded plaintively. "I'm sorry, mister. I just need a ride."
"What are you doing here?" he insisted with a hint of panic in his voice, worried and also outraged that someone would climb into his car.
"I had to get away, mister, and your car door was open."
It was a young female voice that did not sound all threatening.
Jack relaxed somewhat.
"You're running from someone?"
"Ya."
"That's all, just 'ya?'"
"You don't want to know about it, mister, but would you drive me to Saginaw? It's just up ahead and not far from the interstate."
"I know where it is," Jack responded tersely, "but I won't drive you there."
"Then I'll take wherever you're going," the girl responded sadly.
"I just have to get away."
"Away from what? Have you committed a crime?"
"Maybe," the girl replied softly. "There were cops at the rest area. Were they looking for you?"
"They lost me there. I got away from them, and I took something."
"What did you take?"
"I don't know. A brief case. Something maybe important," she mumbled vaguely.
Then in the rear view mirror Jack saw a car speeding toward them, lights flashing.
"Oh, shit," he moaned to himself and slowed his car, ready to pull it to the side of the highway. But the vehicle sped past followed by another with a single flashing light.
"You're running from the cops!" Jack yelled angrily. Jack hated cops, indeed any authority, although he knew better than to expose himself to their overwhelming, brutish power.
"They're not cops," the girl responded heatedly. "Two of them are foreigners, the others are American."
"But they looked like cops to me."
"They're government men, but I don't know what kind," the girl added, seemingly flustered.. "They killed my Billy."
"Your Billy?" Jack asked. He felt as though a trap were about to shut with him inside.
"Billy was my cousin. We were very close, you know. He worked for those guys, carried things for them, and when they found him peeking at what he was delivering, they shot him in the head like he was some kind of animal."
"What was he carrying?" Jack felt compelled to inquire, although he feared the worst.
"This brief case here." She held the article up high enough for Jack to see it in the rear view mirror. Jack hesitated. "What's in it?"
"I don't know for certain," the girl replied defiantly. "But those bastards want it and they killed my Billy because of it."
Suddenly a bright light scanned the car, reflecting strongly from the polished brass locks on the brief case. Jack turned quickly and saw two vehicles with flashing lights on the opposite side of the interstate, moving slowly, spotlights converging on his Taurus.
"Oh, Christ!" Jack yelled as the two cars suddenly crossed the median strip and let blare with their sirens in pursuit of him.
He immediately turned off his lights and began to weave madly among the holiday traffic bound for northern vacations. He dared not brake and reveal his position with his rear lights. The cops, or whoever they were, trailed some distance behind him. They would catch him eventually, he knew, so he veered onto a sudden off ramp leading into the dark, Michigan countryside.
At the end of the ramp Jack was inclined to go right, so he turned left and sped down the two lane road with his lights off past isolated farms which had spotlights ablaze on their distant barns. He pulled into a long, dark driveway of a farmhouse and shut off his motor. A car soon raced past behind him at an unusual speed. Dogs barked in the near distance, but otherwise the cool night was completely quiet.
"What do you have that's so important?" Jack barked in anger, looking over the seat at the girl.
"I don't really know," she whimpered.
Jack saw a car with its lights off drive slowly down the road past the farmhouse where he was parked. He waited for several minutes until he assumed his pursuers were at least a mile away, then he started the car and backed out of the driveway.
He drove down the road, turned off and followed others, even unpaved ones, until he reached a lighted area on the outskirts of Milo, Michigan.
He stopped the car under some trees to inspect his map. The drone of a helicopter came ominously closer and closer, a light from it coursing back and forth, inspecting the ground. Jack waited until the aircraft passed to the south and then drove his car into the middle of town.
"We can't stay here," he said, greatly agitated. "We have to get back to the interstate."
"But they're waiting for us there," the girl wailed.
"No. I don't think so. They have just two cars and both of them are up here looking for us. We'll take the Dixie Highway up to Birch Run and then get onto the interstate. There's an awful lot of traffic up there, people going to Frankenmuth."
"Just do it, whatever," the girl said from the back seat in resignation."
"Come up front and sit with me," Jack suggested. "It doesn't look right with you back there."
"No. I'll stay here. I want to go to sleep."
It worked, and after some driving he and his unwelcome passenger were passing through deep, dark forest north of Midland at eighty miles an hour.

Jack did not know the time, when he arrived finally at his small cabin next to the lake. The girl behind him was asleep.
"We're here," he announced loudly, waking his passenger.
"Where are we?" she asked sleepily.
"We're safe here," Jack replied. "I can't imagine they were able to read my license plate."
"Where is this place?" the girl inquired warily, not ready to get out of the car.
"It's my cabin," Jack responded in annoyance, opening the driver's door.
The girl's small voice expressed concern. "Am I going to stay here with you?"
"I have ten acres of woods here, sweetie, and you can sleep on any part of them," Jack replied in exasperation.
"How many beds do you have?" she asked hesitantly.
"Just one, just mine."
"Then I'd rather sleep in the car."
"That's fine with me. But don't come bothering me later. I intend to get drunk and forget this sorry mess."
"Well, that's just splendid, mister! People are going to come through these woods in the middle of the night and kill us."
"That's why I prefer to have you outside, sweetie. You can warn me before they strangle you."
"They don't strangle you, they shoot you in the head, like they did Billy."
"All the better. When they shoot you, the sound will awaken me from my drunken stupor."
"You aren't being serious, mister."
"And you're being too fearful. We've lost the bastards, girl!
They'll never find us here."
"I still won't sleep in your bed."
"I didn't invite you, did I?" Jack retorted, weary of the conversation with the girl, whose face he had yet to see clearly.

The next morning Jack came out onto his porch groggy with a hangover, yet he delighted to be again in his beloved northern woods, where the scent of a nearby cedar grove beckoned seductively.
"Where are you!" he yelled aloud, although he knew that the girl was still asleep in the rear seat of the car. Jack rinsed his putrid mouth with scoops of water from the rain barrel as he waited for the girl to show herself.
She was short, no more than five feet tall, and she didn't appear to have any breasts. She climbed out of the back seat of the car and stood defiantly before the man holding the large brief case tightly to her body. "How old are you?" Jack asked wobbling a bit on his feet, glaring down at the small girl who was almost pretty in a scraggly, mousy way.
"I'm eighteen," the girl stated.
"Bull shit!" Jack replied crudely. "You're no more than fifteen, if that."
"I'm eighteen, and I can prove it," the girl insisted.
"Actually, I don't care how old you are, girlie, especially since you choose to sleep in the car."
"You're too old for me, mister."
"You really know how to wound a guy, sweetie." "I just want you to know where you stand," she replied smugly.
"I know where I stand, you little bitch! I'm standing on my own property, and you're free to lug that fucking brief case out of here."
"You really don't want me?" the girl asked in amazement, not comprehending the man.
"Want you for what?"
"For . . . you know."
"I don't do boys," Jack replied with a grand, malicious smile.
"You know I'm not a boy!" the girl shouted in outrage.
"Show me," Jack responded with a grin.
"You pervert! I won't show you anything"
"You know," Jack replied, abruptly serious, "I'd rather see the contents of that brief case than your scrawny flesh."
Suddenly her expression changed from anger to something more agreeable. Her eyes widened and lips parted.
"You're not so old!" she mused, as if surprised to discover it.
"No!" He was mildly amused at the change in her tone. Her eyes dropped shyly. "I'm Mary Kathleen Kelly."
"I'm Jack, Jack Flemming," he responded gruffly, staring at the slight girl. "So we're friends now? So we can talk about what this mess is all about?"
"They killed Billy before my eyes," she whimpered. "It had something to do with drugs."
"Billy was your lover?" Jack asked, suddenly gentle. "Yes, and he was my cousin. He didn't know what he had gotten himself into. He was so simple."
"But you really loved the boy, didn't you?"
"Oh, God, Mister Jack. He was such a sweet boy, when we were alone together. He cried awfully, when they began to beat and kick him. They all enjoyed it so, laughing and shouting. Then one of the men just shot him in the head. He was only about my age."
"We'll get those bastards, Mary Kathleen," Jack exclaimed in anger, all of a sudden feeling like a hero. "But I'm afraid they might get us first." "Well, I have their brief case, and it's something they really want. Maybe we can bargain with it."
"What's inside. Have you ever looked?"
"No, I never had a chance. I just grabbed it from the backseat, when I was able to get away."
"Well, let's go into the cabin and find out what it contains."

Jack sat on the edge of a chair with the brief case in front of him. Mary Kathleen cautiously stooped beside him as he leaned down to snap open the hasp.
"It's not locked," Jack murmured and pulled the bag open.
It was full of money and documents peculiarly uniform in their decorative appearance.
"Oh my God," he gasped softly, "Look at all that money."
He then extracted one of the curious documents and almost choked.
"What are they?" she asked curiously.
Jack grabbed a fistful of the elegantly engraved papers from the case and riffled them slowly, whistling in surprise and astonishment.
"They're bearer bonds," he replied to the girl, turning his face to hers. "Each one seems to be worth $100,000, and there could be one hundred of them."
"What are bearer bonds?"
"It's like cash, Mary. We could just deposit them into a bank account."
The young woman gaped at the man, not comprehending at first the enormity of their find, but there was a certain glint in her eyes.
"What will we do with them?
"Quiet," Jack barked, counting the documents.
"There's over ten million dollars here," he exclaimed with a shaky voice when he finished, "including twenty grand in cash."
Mary Kathleen stared at the man blankly. She had twelve dollars in her pocket.
Jack cocked an eye at the girl. "Let's split it evenly," he suggested in an affable tone of voice.
"But it's mine," she quickly protested.
"You stole it, and then I saved you," Jack rejoined. "Sharing it equally is only fair, especially since you need me to turn the bonds into cash without getting caught."
Mary could find no argument to challenge him.
"What's this?" she asked, pulling from the case a sheaf of papers which were stapled together.
Jack took them from her. There were eight typewritten pages, four in Spanish and four in English. It seemed to be a contract. Jack glanced through the English pages quickly and then his entire body seemed to slump.
"They were not after the money when they chased us, Mary," he groaned in despair. "It seems that part of the federal government, the Diplomatic Security Agency, is involved in the drug trade."

"From about Saginaw clear across the state to Ludington it's like we've been fenced off. Every car is being checked. And traffic is backed up for miles at the Mackinac Bridge."
Jack eavesdropped on the gas station attendant talking on the phone. He felt a shiver of apprehension, realizing that the entire weight of the United States government confronted him and the girl. He couldn't just drive off and leave her, he thought, dismissing the temptation. If she were caught, which was certain without his help, he would be found easily. Besides there was the money.
"I overheard you on the phone," he said to the man, when he went into the small building to pay for the tank of gas he had just pumped. "What's happening?"
"Don't know for certain, but I think it's about some terrorists that came in from Canada."
"How many are there?" Jack casually asked.
"That's the strange thing," the man replied with a shake of his head. "They're looking for a skinny girl."
"Those cops!" Jack guffawed, and the man nodded with a smile of agreement.
Jack drove from the gas station and pulled carefully into traffic. He headed for Cheboygan, to a Sears store there, having discovered an urgent need to make some purchases.

"Why do you want to cut my hair?" Mary protested and moved away from Jack who spread scissors, a razor and a comb on the nearby table.
"They're looking for a girl. We'll have to make you into a boy."
"I don't want to be a boy!" the girl shouted in anger. "I want to be a girl, more than I am now."
"I can't grow titties for you, sweetie, and it's just as well that you're flat chested. You have to become a boy and pretend to be my son or they're going to get us."
Mary Kathleen scowled in frustration, but she sat down on the chair next to the table.
"Don't worry, kid," Jack said soothingly as he brought the scissors to Mary's tresses. "I worked my way through college as a barber."
The man clipped and trimmed. Mousy, brown hair dropped to the floor of the cabin. Jack seemed to enjoy himself, transforming the eighteen-year-old waif into a boy of fourteen.
"I have some clothes for you," he said, when he stood back and admired his work on the girl's head. "They're not the kind I prefer, but they're fashionable."
He offered her plastic bags imprinted with the name Sears.
Mary Kathleen grabbed them from his hands angrily.
"Go outside while I put them on," she insisted.
Jack left and wandered over to the cedar grove where he breathed deeply of the scented air. He would like to be buried in a cedar casket, he thought for an instant, but then dismissed the silly notion with a shake of his head.
"How do I look?" the girl's voice asked from behind him.
Jack turned and beheld Mary Kathleen, now transformed into his fourteen-year-old son. He-she-was beautiful, despite the baggy shorts that extended to the mid calves and the clunky Nike shoes. The Cleveland Indians pullover revealed nothing feminine. Mary was prettier as a boy, Jack concluded, and he grinned in appreciation.
"You're perfect," he exclaimed enthusiastically.
"And you're a pervert," Mary replied sharply, resenting his ogle.
"Are you into boys?"
"A boy as pretty as you could tempt any man."
"So you're coming out of the closet, Mr. Flemming," Mary responded sarcastically. "It must be very frustrating for you to realize that I'm just a skinny girl."
"Mary," the man said soberly, placing his hand lightly on the girl's shoulder, "we're going to be together for quite a long time, perhaps years. We should be nice to each other."
"I'm sorry, Jack. I really am. You're right. We ought to be friends, especially because we've been thrown together like this, and I can't imagine the end of it."
She looked up at him in a calculated way. She did not flinch at his touch, nor did she resist his embrace, and she returned his kiss.
"We haven't known each other for even twenty four hours, Jack," the girl murmured, gazing into the man's face, inviting another kiss.
"Do you need more time, Mary?"
"No," she replied and pressed her face against his chest. "Do you want to play with me, Jack? Do you want to pretend that I'm a boy for a while?"
"That would be kinky, don't you think?" he replied nervously, unsettled by the girl's abrupt, inexplicable readiness for some kind of sexual encounter.
"I'm not so innocent," she said coyly. I'm ready for anything you wish to do."
Jack held Mary's pretty head between his two hands and gazed yearningly into her boyish face for a long moment.
"But I know you're a girl!"
"Let's pretend, Jack," she replied, unzipping his fly. "Wouldn't you just love to have a pretty boy suck on you?"
He was stupefied by the girl's brazenness, but he did not protest. Mary looked into his face as she easily undid his belt, unsnapped his trousers and let them fall to around his ankles. He felt her hand caress his hard cock through the fabric of his underpants.
"Oh, you're too big, mister," she said, pretending to be a young boy. She gave his member a slight squeeze. "I can't let you put that monster up my ass. But it will fit nicely into my pretty mouth."
Mary dropped to her knees before him and quickly pulled down his shorts.
"Oh, my," she exclaimed, slipping her lips over the cock head as she gazed up into Jack's astonished face. For a moment he savored the physical sensation and the charade of being sucked by a lovely boy.
"That's enough," he announced suddenly, pulling Mary to her feet.
"I want you as a woman."
"Yes. That would be nice," she replied, her voice muffled in Jack's embrace. "But first let me get you dressed again."
Once more she went to her knees. She pushed up the man's underpants for him to grab, and then the trousers. Again Jack felt a deliciously illicit sensation of being intimate with a young boy. He leaned down and swooped into his arms the young woman, who squealed in delight. She didn't weigh one hundred pounds.
"Am I too old for you, Mary Kathleen?" he smiled "You're a big, strong man. I think you'll be able to keep up with me."
Jack carried her to the cabin, almost stumbling as they kissed, and he laid her carefully on the bed.
"Now, let's see what we have beneath these clothes," he announced joyfully as he pulled off a shoe.
"No, Jack. You get undressed first. I want to see you."
The man had no reason to be ashamed of his body, as Mary soon learned. If it was not in perfect athletic condition, it was nearly so. There was just a slight roundness of his belly. His cock was agreeably large, although not intimidating. The young woman on the bed, who removed her other shoe, beamed her approval. Without a word Jack leaned down to pull off the girl's baggy shorts. Mary raised her butt to assist him.
"Well!" Jack exclaimed. "Those are not skinny legs. They're slender, perhaps, but I find them quite lovely."
Jack pulled off her panties, again with her assistance, to reveal a lush, adult pubic bush.
"Would you like to shave me down there, Mr. Barber?"
"Yes, if you want."
"Let's do it later, sweetheart. I'm getting antsy." The pullover was quickly on the floor leaving Mary naked.
"You do have titties, and they're just the right size for you."
"I'm too small all over. I wish I were larger so we could kiss as we make love."
"We'll work something out. Come, scoot your butt to the edge of the bed and let your legs drop over.
Mary did as instructed. Jack knelt between her out spread legs, then leaned down to kiss her face which, he thought, was becoming lovelier by the second. He licked down her neck and then suckled a small breast.
"Please, Jack. I'm ready for it now," Mary pleaded. Indeed, she was, Jack discovered as the head of his cock plopped easily into girl's moist tightness. With two palms on her breasts and his eyes gazing at her lovely face he inserted himself fully and began a slow fuck.
"Faster, Jack. Please faster!"
He obliged her. She could not push back, because of her position; her feet scarcely touched the floor. He pounded her with rapid, almost violent strokes, watching her head roll from side to side, her face distorted in excitement.
"Oh, oh," she groaned repeatedly and then wailed briefly, loudly as her body became rigid.
Jack was hardly finished. He continued to bang at her until she screamed aloud and tore at her hair. It was a big one. When she calmed somewhat, he slowed his strokes to savor the feel of himself inside her slick, clinging passage.
"Take your pleasure, darling. It's your turn now," she sighed.
His eyes focused on the small, pretty face beneath a boy's haircut, so androgynous, so illicit. But he placed his palms on feminine breasts as his ecstasy caused him to cry out.

"Seriously, Mary. Am I not too old for you? Don't you find me repugnant?
Jack lay cupped to the naked girl from behind, his hand on an almost immature tit, his mouth on her neck. It was the middle of the night. The cabin reeked of old timber and mold.
"I've had older and uglier, Jack, since I was eleven," the girl whispered.
"Eleven?"
"I don't want to talk about it. It's not a happy memory."
She turned about to face him.
"You don't disgust me in the least! You're a fine looking man, and a good person."
She kissed his face passionately.
They whispered to each other in the delicious night. The Moon was bright outside and a soft, fresh breeze wafted through the screened windows bringing with it the slightly fishy aroma of the nearby lake.
"Do you have a family?"
"Only Billy, and now he's gone."
"We have money. I'll look after you, if you like," Jack gushed impulsively.
"Yes, of course. But I hardly know you, and you me. How can we make such decisions?"
"This mess of yours binds us together for the foreseeable future.
You'll have to accept me despite my age."
"How old are you?"
"Thirty eight."
"That's not really very old. I won't have to nurse you," she chuckled "I worry about how small and fragile you are, that I might hurt you sometime in my passion."
"I'm small but sturdy, Jack. Unfortunately I'm fully- grown. I won't become any larger. If you want bigger tits on me, I'll have to get silicon implants."
"I like you the way you are," he replied and leaned his head down to suck a nipple.
"Come on top of me," she sighed, fondling his head. "I want to feel you again.
"No. You get onto me. You're too small underneath."
"May I be selfish, Jack?" she asked as she came astride him. "May I use your body and take my pleasure?"
"Yes, of course. Indulge yourself."
She sat onto his cock slowly with a grand sigh. Jack ran his hands up and down her slender thighs, looking at her but seeing only a silhouette. She moved on him slightly as she diddled herself.
"Oh, God, Jack. This is so wonderful!"
"Enjoy it, sweet one," he replied, determined not to ruin the beauty of the moment by his own passion.
"Pinch my nipples!" she implored desperately.. He obliged her and felt the girl's body shudder.
"Oh, Jack. Jack!"
She bounced on his cock with increasing enthusiasm as she rubbed her clit. He wished it were light enough to see her face, to witness her orgasm. He could not hold off much longer.
She indulged herself indeed. The girl screeched as she extracted the fullest pleasure from his cock and her finger. It seemed to go on for the longest time, the noise of her. And then she collapsed atop him. Jack held the slight girl to him, kissing the top of her head, as he slowly fucked her, wanting it to last forever. But, of course, that was not possible. He came with a whimper and then a shriek, grasping the small creature with his arms perhaps too tightly.
She suffered the discomfort for the duration of his passion.
"Let me go, Jack. You're stifling me," she finally complained.

They splashed naked in the small, weedy lake before it was light, before the birds began to cheep. Jack took the girl as he stood chest deep in the water, holding her to him with her legs around his hips. It was their forth time, yet her response was as fresh and excited as her first. When they were both finished they continued to cling together until his flaccid cock slipped out of her.
"I've changed my mind about older guys," she whispered teasingly.
"You're as pretty as a girl," he replied and poked a finger at her asshole.
"You'd hurt me there, mister. I'm just a slight little boy."
"You're not so small."
"But you're too big, mister. Let me introduce you to my sister.
She loves to fuck although she's just eleven."
The two lovers played in the water, constantly in touch with each other, as the sky lightened and then distant clouds became enflamed in the glorious promise of a lovely, new day.