#Van_Cuck! by Dex O'Donald (Patreon)

#Van_Cuck!

By Dex O’Donald w/QoS Book Club

© 2019-2030 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

**DEVIN DICKIE NOTE**
All characters are OVER 18 years of AGE! This is a bullying fantasy and not real. The acts in the following written work are only consensual sexual choices and fantasy humiliation scenarios.

Bullying is NOT OKAY and If you or someone you know is being bullied, please alert the authorities.

#Van_Cuck!

By Dex O’Donald w/QoS Book Club

By Dex O’Donald w/Devin Dickie

1.
When I saw Tiffany standing in line at the grocery

store, I thought I was dreaming. What was she doing back in town - in Taker’s Mills, Indiana of all places? It didn’t make sense. She had over a million YouTube subscribers (I knew because I was one of them) and countless more on TikTok and Patreon. Tiffany was supposed to be out on some grand adventure in her customized, tricked out van seeing the world, taking sexy selfies, looking gorgeous and making her viewers covetous of her idealized life.

But she wasn’t. She was here.
I’d had a crush on Tiffany since the early days of high

school, and I wasn’t the only one. Every male in Taker’s Mills old enough to feel their cock had a crush on her, too. And though it had been a few years since I last saw her, her

beauty had only grown. So had her breasts, which appeared to be trying to tear her shirt in two.

I got in line behind her, already nervous at the prospect of speaking to her.

Tiffany’s hair had grown quite long; red and luscious and vibrant. That day at the grocery store she wore a gray crop top with short sleeves that showed off her flat, toned

midsection. Her skin was just as pale as it had ever been, a wonder considering all the tropical places she’d been to in that decked out van of hers. Clutching my shopping basket to my side I couldn’t help but stare at her shapely rump, tucked away tight inside a pair of light-blue jeans like two overripe watermelons. I’m a sucker for the crease girls with big asses have when they squeeze into pants too small, and she had two of them below each perfect, rounded cheek.

I’d always been too afraid to talk to her in high school. But this wasn’t high school anymore. I was a man grown

with a good job and plenty of money in my bank account. Those sorts of things give a guy confidence, and besides that I’d spent too many nights alone jerking off to something as simple as Tiffany changing a tire on her van...I had to talk to her. I had to at least try.

“Tiffany?” I cleared my throat, trying to make it as steady as possible. “Tiffany Shylock?”

Her head turned to the side, wavy locks of fire swaying slightly. When she looked at me her astonishing

emerald eyes flickered, and my voice caught in my throat. “Do I know you?” she said, pink lips parting.

I smiled nervously. “Um, yeah, I think so. It’s been a while. I’m Sam? Sam Weeks? We went to high school

together at Taker’s. We had the same English class.”

She didn’t recognize me. And that was fine. I didn’t expect her to. She was uber popular back then, and I was

just a band kid. And maybe back then I’d have given up talking to her on the spot, but like I said before - this wasn’t high school anymore.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember,” she said, her voice tired and apologetic. “It’s been a crazy few days though, my

head is sort of all over the place right now. Were you on the football team?”

“Band,” I smiled. “Drum line kid.”
And then something happened that I’ll never forget.

That tired, confused countenance of hers broke apart into a grin, revealing every perfect white tooth in her mouth, and those dazzling green eyes of hers came alive.

“Sam!” she held my name on her tongue. “Sam the drummer! I remember you, yeah of course! You were the

section captain, right? Always leading those kids out onto the field at halftime. You’ve grown, Sam. I hardly recognized you!”

“I’m surprised you remember that much,” I said, an unexplainable excitement mounting in my belly. “You were always so busy with cheerleading...didn’t think you noticed

me.”
She shrugged, her colossal breasts moving with her

shoulders. “I always thought you were kind of cute, actually. Short, but cute. Not so short anymore though, huh?”

It was true. My growth spurt had come late in puberty. My four years at Taker’s Mills high school found

me at a modest 5’8. It wasn’t until halfway through my first semester at college that I maxed out at 5’11. I was a

few good inches taller than Tiffany now, and maybe that was contributing to my mounting sense of self-confidence.

“No I guess not,” I laughed. “It’s really good to see you, Tiffany. You look...great.”

She smiled again, but this time it was placatingly. “Thanks, Sam. You’re sweet.”

The grocery line moved forward, and she backed up with it, still facing me with that elvish face and the body of

a Goddess. This was my chance, and I could feel it. If she was completely disinterested in me she’d have turned around by now, or forgotten something in another aisle.

“What are you doing back?” I asked. “Last I heard you were YouTube famous and traveling the country. I even

think I saw some of your videos.” I’d seen all of her videos.

Tiffany sighed, something longing and sad in the sound of it. “I was traveling the country, Sam. For a while

I was. But somewhere along the way I must have been cursed because in the last few weeks everything has just...I don’t know...fallen apart.” Her eyes cast downward in thought, and I took the opportunity to sneak a glimpse at her bundled breasts. Her nipples were hard and pushing against the grey fabric, two perfect balls of candy. “My van broke down out in Texas. I tried everything I could to get it repaired - and when I say everything, I mean it. But it was no use. Five different shops and they all told me the same thing - the engine, the transmission, all of it is done for. For good.”

Our eyes met again and this time I was determined not to break her gaze.

“That’s awful, Tiffany,” I said. “Are you going to buy another van?”

She laughed sadly. “I spent so much time and money building that one out...I don’t know if I have another build

in me, you know? Did you ever see it, Sam? It was something else.”

I nodded. Of course I’d seen it. I’d seen every video she’d posted since starting her grand adventure a few years

back. It was an incredible, impressive build out of what started as a very simple automobile. Solar panels on top for power, a kitchen area with running water, a small bathroom with a toilet, a dining area that doubled as a bedroom when she lowered her bed from the ceiling to sleep. The side doors would open and she could pull out attachable tables. There was even a sitting area/watch tower on top where she posted videos of sunsets and

mountain vistas. And the craziest part of all- she’d built it all herself. This gorgeous, petite buxom beauty with hair like wildfire was as handy as she was sexy, often doing most of her own repairs on the vehicle when she broke down on the road.

And it was decorated impeccably.
“It was a really impressive build, Tiffany,” I said. “I’m

sorry that happened to you.”
“Me too,” she sighed again. “So, until I can figure

something out, I’m back here,” Tiffany grimaced, “in Taker’s Mills.”

“You say that like it’s bad thing.”
“It is,” she gave me a wry smile. “For me anyways.

After high school I couldn’t wait to get out, honestly. I always felt like I was destined for more than this place, you know?”

“You are destined for more,” I said, trying not to stare too hard at her mesmerizing beauty. “And you’ve done more. More than anyone else we went to school with.”

“You’re sweet, Sam. Thanks for saying that,” her long lashes batted over hypnotic eyeballs. “What about you?

Did you go away for college or are you back visiting family?”

“I live here,” I said, somewhat embarrassed. “I went to school here, too. Never really left.”

Tiffany’s gorgeous gaze searched my face. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard, Sam.”

I laughed in spite of myself. “Is it really? It’s not so bad here...”

“It really is though,” she giggled, and suddenly with sheer joy I realized we were flirting. “We gotta get you out

of here, Sammy. You need a vacation.”

“Gonna take me for a ride in your van?” I said, not believing my own gall.

“You fix my van and I’ll take you anywhere you want,” she laughed.

“You’ve got like a million subs on YouTube,” I said. “I’m sure you can get a new van without my help. You

might even be able to get one of those big fancy ones that come built out already.”

Tiffany’s face did that dance again, the one where she moved between joy and sadness at a moment’s notice.

“Not anymore,” she said. “YouTube is a fickle place. You stop posting content for a few weeks and it’s like everyone forgets who you are. I started a Kickstarter but it didn’t pan out...that’s really why I’m back here. I’m staying with my gal pal over on Cherry Street for the time being. Weighing my options. I might take a marketing job in the

city, but I don’t know yet. The thought of going from doing whatever I want to being stuck at a cubicle sounds like death.”

It's funny what happens when you listen to a pretty girl talk. When you’re staring at a woman with everything

you’ve ever desired in another human while also being blown away by their personality and sense of humor. Your mind is there, enraptured for sure. But you’re also calculating in your sub-conscious, trying desperately to find a way to keep them close to you...to give yourself a shot with them. Watching Tiffany’s seductive mouth move, watching her emerald eyes flick here and there, savoring the shape of her body...I wasn’t just thinking I wanted a date with her. I was thinking about my life with her. What that might be like...and if it could be a reality.

“I don’t think you should just give up, Tiffany. I think some good luck is going to come your way very soon...you

just need to hold on a little longer.”
Tiffany’s face became quizzical. Curious, even. “And

just how would you know something like that, Samuel Weeks?”

I took a deep breath. “Because your luck is looking up already...how’d you like to have dinner with me this

week?”
For a moment all I heard was the mechanical beeping

of the checkout line, the idle chatter of the other shoppers. A look came across Tiffany’s face, and I didn’t know if it was flattery or simple shock at the question I’d just asked her. I nearly regretted the whole encounter in that small space before she started talking again.

Tiffany shrugged, and that intoxicating smile came across her mouth once more. “Why not?” she said. “You

seem to be the only man with enough balls in this shithole town to ask me out.”

“Really?” I said, pure disbelief. “Really,” she reached her dainty hand out and

squeezed my shoulder. “How about Friday night? Meet me at Manzanelli’s say 8 O’clock?”

I couldn’t help but give what I’m sure was the goofiest, toothiest grin of my life. “That sounds...perfect.”

The line moved forward, and Tiffany placed her basket up on the checkout counter. When she turned back

to me, I noticed she was holding something in her right hand - a cell phone. She gripped it an awkward angle, and for the briefest of moments the camera lens on the back appeared to stare at me like an eyeball - prying, watching.

“Say Sam,” Tiffany bit her bottom lip. “I just realized I left my card at home. Any chance you can get these

groceries for me, and I can pay you back Friday? At our date?”

I yanked my credit card from my wallet like Excalibur from the stone. “No problem at all,” I offered. “And no

need to get me back. My treat.”
“Thanks Sam,” she smiled, iPhone turning just so in

her hand. “You’re so sweet to me.”

2.
“You’re staring, Sam,” Tiffany chuckled.
“Oh sorry,” I turned away, embarrassed. “You just

look...really...really -
“Beautiful?” her auburn eyebrows raised. “You said

that already. Like five times.”
I blushed. Tiffany reached across the table and rubbed

the top of my hand. “Stop being so nervous,” she said. “I think you’re a really nice guy, OK? I’m having a good time with you!”

“Thanks,” I said, somewhat meek. I hadn’t expected to her to show up to Manzanelli’s dressed the way she was.

Tiffany had on a sparkly, low-cut black dress, and her wavy red hair flowed in fiery streams past her bare white shoulders. The line of her pale cleavage was straight and shadowed in the low light of the Italian restaurant, and the

vastness of each breast was more than distracting - it seemed to obliterate all coherent thought from my brain. I vowed not to so much as glance at them for the rest of the meal.

But that left her face, which was just as enthralling. From those shocking eyes of hers, to the eight freckles

scattered across each cheek, to those pink lips that were always on the move.

“What do you do for work these days, Sam?” “Computer engineer,” I said. “I work from home mostly. But it’s a good job and I like it...it pays well.”

“Oh really?” she said playfully. “Just throwing that in there casually, huh? It pays well? Oh, Sam...” she trailed

off with a giggle.
“What?” I said. “What’s so funny?”

“You think money impresses a girl like me?” she lifted her wine glass and drank the vintage red without ever

taking her eyes off me. Her handbag was on the table, too. “I make my own money, Sam. Have for years.”

“But not at the moment, right?” I sort of regretted the question the moment it left my mouth. “I mean I’m sure you’ll get your followers back in no time,” I was quick to

amend. “But so what if I want to treat you to dinner or groceries. Everybody needs help once in a while, right?”

Tiffany’s face faltered a moment, and I couldn’t tell if she was annoyed with me. “I offered to pay you back for

the groceries and you declined. I’m not looking for handouts, Sam. And I’m not here for free dinner. I’m here because you asked me out, remember? I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” I frowned. “I just meant...I meant that I want to treat you. I want to take you out...I

like you, Tiffany. It’s not any more complicated than that.” Tiffany set her wine glass down on the table and

adjusted her handbag slightly - the side of it facing nonchalantly in my direction. Then she leaned back in her chair, and I had a perfect view of her from the waist up; that slender hourglass figure of hers that curved into her heavy breasts, all clad in a silky black dress that caught the candlelight and blinked it back at me. She crossed her lissome arms below her demanding chest and scrunched her cute nose up.

“You’re not so shy anymore, huh Sam?” she chuckled. “I remember in high school you tried to talk to me once

and your voice cracked. You ran away from me after that.”

“I remember,” I said. “You and your friends laughed at me when it happened...”

“I didn’t laugh,” she said matter of fact. “I actually told those girls to knock it off. And who were they anyway?

Remember any of their names?”
I shook my head no. Was I falling in love with this

girl?
“I don’t,” I admitted.

“But you remembered me?”
“I did.”
“And I remembered you,” she leaned forward into the

table, her gorgeous tits all but resting on top of it. “And here we are years later, and you’ve grown and I’ve seen the world. We’re not the people we were back then. So stop acting like I’m the popular girl at school you need to

tip-toe around. I like being around you, Sam. It’s nice. That’s enough for me.”

“Thanks for saying that,” I breathed relief. “I’ll admit...I’ve seen more than just a few of your videos.”

“I had a feeling,” she tittered.
“It’s interesting, you know? Seeing you out there on

the road, getting famous and what not. Not every day you see a sexy redhead changing a tire.”

“Oh so I’m sexy now, too?” she winked.
I blushed.
“Oh Sam it’s just too easy with you,” Tiffany laughed.

“I’m fucking with you! What girl doesn’t like compliments. Go on. You were saying something about my incredible tire-changing technique?”

The wine had made me brave. “It’s fucking hot,” I sputtered. “Like where the hell did you learn that?”

Tiffany hooted loud enough for the couple beside us to turn their heads (perhaps the dozenth time for the hubby

who seemed fond of my dates cleavage). By the time we left the restaurant that night we’d polished off two bottles of red and the bill was well over three hundred dollars for the two of us. I didn’t care. It was the best date I’d ever been on, and Tiffany was hands down the most beautiful woman I’d ever spent time with.

I was enraptured. I was beyond seduced. I was obsessed.

Tiffany let me take her home that night. I pulled into the driveway of her friend’s house and as we sat there in my car, I couldn’t help but notice the abandoned vehicle

with the big blue tarp over it.
“Is that what I think it is?” I asked, relishing the way

Tiffany looked sitting in my passenger seat.

“Sure is,” she gazed out the window at it pensively. “Want a tour?”

“You know I do,” I said.
I helped her pull the tarp off and there it was in all its

glory. The very same one from her YouTube. Blue and big and lopsided due to the flat tire on its back driver’s side. Tiffany took me over to the side door and pulled it open, motioning for me to enter the darkened van.

She stepped in behind me and for the faintest moment I felt the front of her breasts brush against my back.

Then she closed the door behind us, and we were bathed in the darkness.

“There’s a light here,” she whispered, placing a hand on my arm to steady herself as she reached up into the

blind and flicked a switch. A dim light illuminated the

cabin, and when I turned around her face was inches from mine. “What do you think?” she whispered.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, not even looking around the van. My eyes were glued to her and the seductive beauty

she radiated. Even in that low light her emerald eyes gleamed, and she smelled so fucking good.

“There you go with that word again,” she giggled, throwing her skinny arms about my shoulders. “But I was

asking about the van, Sam. Not me.”
Before I could answer, before I could say something

stupid, our lips were pressed together. I was breathing her in.

She tasted like clouds on a spring day, and her lips were so full and rich that when she took my own between

them, I stiffened inside my pants immediately. Her tongue grazed my mouth and I remember thinking that this is one

of the greatest moments of my life. That this was the girl for me. Our mouths made a soft smacking sound and when she pulled away, I saw the faintest string of spit between us.

I think that moment together in the van sealed everything that happened after.

“Easy now, boy,” she said seductively when I leaned in for more. “I don’t give it up on a first date, OK? You’ve got

to earn that same as anybody else...but before you go...” Tiffany reached delicate fingers into the front of her dress, right along that sweet line of cleavage. She tugged

back and forth lightly, inch by inch, until her milky-soft tits fell out all at once.

I stopped breathing.

“A little material for you tonight when you get home,” she giggled, giving them the slightest shake. “Don’t say I’m

prude!”
I stared in disbelief like some teenager seeing a naked

woman for the first time. They were even more perfect than I could have imagined; full and rounded and somehow ignored by gravity, they curved delicately at her pink, button-sized nipples and left no question as to just how natural they were.

Tiffany’s hands looked comically small when she brought them to her chest and squeezed the pale flesh

between her nimble fingers. “Fuck,” was all I managed.

“If you’re lucky,” she winked.
I wanted nothing more but to touch her then - or to at

least touch myself. I could feel it straining in my

underwear, begging to be free...but I could also feel a rush of anxiety at the idea of getting naked in front of her. Would she still want me then? When she saw how I measured up to the men she was often seen with on Instagram?

It gave me pause, but not enough to turn back.
“I had fun tonight, Sam,” she said, pulling the top of

her dress back up and stuffing her melons back inside. “Let’s do it again soon, OK?”

I didn’t sleep that night. And I don’t know if I was really in love with her at that point or simply

dumbfounded that a girl so beautiful was interested in me. It also didn’t matter.

I knew what I had to do.
The next morning I went straight to the bank when

they opened at 9. It only took a few hours to get everything

in order before I was driving four hours south to a dealership that had exactly what I was looking for. I traded in my car as a partial down payment and put another fifty thousand down on top of that.

I arrived back in Taker’s Mills that early evening just as the sun was going down. I went straight to Tiffany’s

place.
“Is Tiffany home?” I asked her roommate when she

answered the door.
“You must be Sam,” she gave a wry smile. “I’m Leslie.

I’ve heard a lot about you.” “You have?”

“Mmhmm,” Leslie nodded. She looked me up and down and then past me. “That your van parked in my

driveway?”

“Sort of?” I replied. “Is Tiffany home? I really need to talk to her.”

“Does she know you’re coming by?”
I shrugged.
“Mmhmm,” Tiffany said. “One sec, Sam.”
I watched Tiffany walk back inside; the sway of her

muffin top ass not lost on me. A minute later and Tiffany came to the door in a ruffled halter-top that swaddled her breasts and exposed the skin between them. She seemed surprised to see me.

“What’s up, Sam?” she asked cautiously. “Sorry for just showing up,” I said breathless. “But I

figured you’d want to see this right away.” “See what?”

We walked out to the driveway together. Her confusion didn’t dissipate when she saw the new van

parked beside her old one. “What’s this?” she asked. “What does it look like?”

Tiffany’s mouth became terse. “Sam what is this?” “It’s yours,” I said proudly. “Well, sort of.” Tiffany became deathly silent. Had I fucked up? My

stomach flipped over; panic gripped me.
“Just come look at it, OK? Before we get into the other

stuff? Please?”
Tiffany motioned for me to lead the way. Yep. She was

definitely annoyed.
We came to the side of the hulking grey van, black

strips running horizontally all the way around it. I slid the side door wide and waved Tiffany inside. The moment she

stepped into it I could tell her displeasure was shifting gradually to curiosity.

“It’s got a3.0L 6-cylinder engine and 188 horsepower,” I said, leading her around the luxurious

interior. “The turbo-diesel engine is perfect on those tough 4×4 roads. The 7G-Tronic automatic transmission has long life, so does the 220-amp alternator.”

Tiffany’s eyebrows raised. Her lips parted. I had her.
“ABS brakes on all four wheels, on-demand

four-wheel-drive with a hi/lo range, traction control, and electronic stability. It’s split into two main sections, the front has the galley, bathroom, and seating area, and the back has a bed with a storage garage underneath. The bed is on an electronic lift, so you can stow it in the ceiling with this switch.”

Tiffany ran her fingers along leather seats. She found the sink and turned it on. She checked the private shower

and admired the skylight. Still, she said nothing.
“I opted for all the upgrades,” I said, watching her

admire the beast. “Extra shelves and drawers, cell signal booster for your socials, extra solar panels, black out curtains, more storage...”

Tiffany sat down carefully in one of the plush leather seats in the center living area.

“How much was all this, Sam?” her tone was even and very near cold.

“Enough,” I said.
She pushed me with her eyes.
“Two hundred fifty,” I said softly.
Tiffany looked stunned. “And why would you spend

that much money on a van, Sam?”

“Hear me out,” I said, taking the seat beside her. “I felt really bad about what happened to yours...you had so much going for you and it didn’t seem fair that because of

some engine trouble you had to lose everything you worked so hard for...so, I thought what if...what if I got you a new van and we travelled together.”

She took a deep inhale, her breasts rising. “You shouldn’t have done this,” she said at last. “It’s too much

and we just met.”
“We’ve known each other a long time,” I reminded

her. “We just reconnected.” “Over one date!”

“But it was special, wasn’t it?” I plead. “Don’t tell me I’m the only one who felt it, Tiffany. We have something

between us...I know we do.”

She looked at me, biting her bottom lip, unable to make heads or tails of the situation. “Let me get this

straight, Sam...you went and bought a van the price of a whole goddamn house, and your plan - please stop me if I’m wrong - is to take your new van and me along for a ride across the country?”

“Not my van,” I said. “Your van...at least half of it is, for now. If you agree to take me out on the road with you

for four weeks. And when we get back, together, it’s yours. All yours. Whether you want to be with me or not. But I’m willing to give you half of it today. Right now. I’ve got the paperwork and everything.”

I could tell she was overwhelmed. Behind those shattering green eyes of hers she was working away at

something, examining the situation and my offer...putting it together in whatever way she thought best.

“You’re just going to give me half today?” she said, disbelieving.

“And the other half when we get back. Together.” Tiffany stood up then and I watched her walk about

the luxury van. She had yoga pants on, and her sexy ass was hypnotizing as she strutted about the space. She kept shaking her head, her messy red bun teetering.

“This van is incredible,” she said softly. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, Tiffany,” I approached her. “Say yes and give me a chance...I know we’ve only just reconnected. I know

you don’t know me all that well yet, but with some time, especially out on the road...I think you’ll come to really like me. Maybe even more than that.”

Tiffany walked to the front of the van and sat down in the driver’s seat. She placed her dainty hands on the wheel

and squeezed. She looked out the wide windshield and at the house beyond it.

“No one’s ever done something like this for me before.”

“Don’t worry about it...”
“And I’m not sure I like this...I mean, I love the van.

It’s a dream. But I can’t feel like you’re holding it over my head, alright? I can’t be bought and paid into being your girlfriend. And I’m not your girlfriend, OK Sam? Right now we’re friends who have been on a date. One date.”

“And kissed,” I added.
She rolled her eyes. “If you can promise me this isn’t

some ploy to get me to sleep with you, or to like be your trophy wife or something...if you can promise me that you’ll respect my boundaries and let me come to you in my

own way...well, maybe then I’ll consider what you’re saying.”

Excitement blossomed in my belly. “I promise,” I said. I sat down in the passenger seat across from her. A

comfortable silence passed between us. “And one other thing,” she added.

“Anything...” “We leave tonight.”

3.
I could tell the instant we hit the road that Tiffany was

back in her element. The person I’d so briefly known back in Taker’s Mills was a ghost compared to this new girl - this Tiffany was a constant ball of energy with a mind as sharp as a tack, and her will to push this new opportunity to its furthest reaches was indominable.

We rode out from Indiana and spent that first week hell bent on reaching the upper northeast coast. Tiffany

wanted to see Maine, wanted to see it in all its mystery and grandeur. And she wanted her followers to see it, too. She made it clear early on that our travels weren’t just about her - they were about content. About building her YouTube page back up to its former glory.

“You’ve been a busy bee this morning,” I said from behind the wheel. We were somewhere in New Hampshire,

the Appalachian Mountains sprawling before us like a fever dream. “Making lots of content?”

“Something like that,” Tiffany said. She was curled up in the passenger seat, eyes glued to her phone, dressed in a

pair of short gym shorts and an old blue tank top. “The first post about the new van didn’t do as well as I’d hoped...so I’m trying to get creative with how I’m pulling people back in.”

“And how do you plan to do that?” I asked, taking my eyes off the road only for a moment to catch a glimpse of

her lithe frame beside me. Her red hair was back in a ponytail, and even without makeup on she was stunning. “Whatever way I can,” she sighed. “I can’t go back to

Indiana. It nearly killed me last time.”

“You’re being a bit dramatic, no?” I chuckled. “If you hadn’t gone back you wouldn’t have run in to me...and if

you didn’t run in to me, well...”
“Yes, yes I know, Samuel,” she rolled her eyes at the

phone screen. “Then I wouldn’t have the van.” “Half of the van,” I corrected her.

She scoffed at that and went on with her task. I could tell since about our second day together that her attitude towards me had, well, hardened a bit. There was still this

awkwardness surrounding the entire situation, and as the days passed, I came to understand why. What I’d done - buying a top of the line travelling van and essentially giving it away - wasn’t at all normal. And I tried to see it from Tiffany’s point of view. When someone does something like that, they usually want something in return. And I guess I sort of did expect something.

Nothing sexual of course, I’d never deem to hold that over her head...though if sex came, I was more than open to it.

I did expect her attention, however. Her company. And when you travel the country with some in an enclosed

space, you’re certainly going to get a lot of both of those things. I tried not to read too far into her comments and jabs or the terse tone of her voice. Those things would even out with time, I was sure. And any resentment she may have towards me would fade in the shadow of the kindness I’d shown her.

I just had to be patient.
“What is it about Taker’s Mills you hate so much?” Tiffany set her phone down and looked out the

window. “God it’s beautiful here,” she said. “Indiana is beautiful too,” I pointed out.

“I guess so,” she shrugged. “But when you get out of a small pond you find bigger fish...you find oceans, too. And

it’s hard to go back to a pond you’ve outgrown.”
“Is that what this is then?” I glanced over at her - she

wasn’t looking at me. “You’re taking a little fish out into the ocean for a look at the real world?”

Tiffany looked as though she were biting her tongue inside that sensual mouth of hers. “Little fish are just bait

out here, Sam,” she said. “You either grow...or become chum for the sharks.”

We stopped somewhere near the state line that night, parking at a campsite that welcomed RV’s and the like.

This was always my favorite part of the day because it seemed like all of Tiffany’s work - the filming, the selfies for Instagram, the blogging and writing - all that was done for the evening. It’s when she loosened up just enough to

flash that easy going version of herself I’d fallen so quickly in love with.

It was also when the wine came out, and when the wine came out Tiffany got playful.

There were two areas on the van that were fit for sleeping. The automatic bed in the back that lowered down

over a dining/work area, and a plush leather couch in the

middle of the vehicle that served as a sort of “living area.” We’d been on the road for a little over a week at that point and I’d agreed to spend the nights on the couch until Tiffany was “comfortable” with me joining her in the bed.

“No promises,” she’d said. “We’ve had one date and now we’re living together. I like you Sam, I do. But if I sleep with you things are going to get a whole lot more

complicated, and it could either make these next few weeks easier, or a whole hell of a lot harder.”

Even though I’d spent my life savings to procure that vehicle, even though half of it was mine still...I took the

couch without gripe. Without resentment. I had to believe that in time I could get her to feel the same way about me that I felt about her.

That particular evening we sat closer together than usual on the couch, wine in hand, chatting deep into the

night. It was nights like those that I savored - that I counted on to win her over with my personality and charm.

“Here’s some pictures from my last trip before the van broke down,” Tiffany handed me her phone to flip

through. She’d changed into a green romper, a one-piece pajama set that buttoned up the front of her bust. All of those buttons had popped loose one by one under the weight of her breasts, and her ample cleavage was out and

distracting. The romper was short too, and with the way she was curled up on the couch beside me I could see the bottoms of her butt cheeks slipping through.

“Who’s that?” I said, turning the phone around so she could see the photo.

“Tom and Dom,” her eyes twinkled.
It was Tiffany maybe a year or two prior, dressed in a skimpy micro bikini that was no more than a nipple cover

for her massive breasts with a strip of cloth to hide her sex. Standing to either side of her were brawny looking bodybuilders, tanned and slick, Tiff’s lissome arms reaching around their defined waists.

“Were they like...your boyfriends or something?” I failed to hide the jealousy in my voice.

“Why Sam?” her dazzling eyes turned playful. “What’s it to you? Are you my boyfriend or something?”

I tried to play back. “Closer than anybody else at the moment I’d say.”

“Oh you would?” she bit her bottom lip and sipped her red wine. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact

that you bought me my dream van now would it?” “You did make out with me,” I offered. “And as far as I

know I’m the last person you kissed...so...” “Mmhmm,” she sat up on her knees in the green

romper, looking like some devilish bunny rabbit. “I showed you my tits too, didn’t I?” Tiffany set her wine down and ran her fingertips along her open collar. Her breasts were dangerously close to falling out and I caught my breath, praying they would.

“Indeed you did,” I said.
“But I showed you my tits and made out with you

before you bought the van, didn’t I?”

“I guess so.”
“So I could take that one of two ways, couldn’t I?

Maybe you got this van because it was love at first sight and you saw how sad I was without one. You wanted to do something nice for a girl you had a crush on.”

I nodded for her to continue.
“OR...you figured I was some easy slut who likes to

throw her looks around to get what she wants.” “Now hold on a sec, Tiffany,” I sat up. “That’s not true

and you know it!”
“Do I?” her eyes were emerald fire. “You bought my

groceries. You bought my dinner. You made it a point to bring up how well your job pays. Maybe when I gave you blue balls that night you figured what’s a van to a blowjob? Or a fuck? Maybe you made a rash decision and figured this was the easiest way into my pants.”

I shook my head back and forth fervently, but I never took my eyes off her. Off her body. Off those stunning, provocative eyes. “I don’t think you’re easy, Tiff. And I

definitely don’t think you’re a slut. I like you. I liked you the second we started talking. Yes, you’re fucking gorgeous...you’re perfect. I’d be crazy not to notice it...but I’d be even crazier not to shoot my shot with you. Do you think I just ask anybody out at the supermarket? I felt something between us, and I think you felt it too.”

Tiffany wasn’t sold on my warm words, and I could tell. Her gaze had this tone to it, like you knew when she was placating you. “So the van was...what? Insurance? A

way to make sure you could have more time with me? Whether you say it was to fuck me or you say it was to get me to love you, it’s still the same thing. This van is a piece of cheese and I’m your little mouse. Doesn’t matter what

your intentions are, Sam. You knew I was down, you knew I was hungry. You used that. Just admit it.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” I said, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me. Was she really

grilling me like this after all I’d done for her?
“Is it?” Tiffany pulled back on the slits of her collar, revealing more pale skin and just the edges of her small, rounded nipples. “Does it make you angry that I haven’t

slept with you yet? That I haven’t even kissed you since that night?”

“Not at all,” I said confidently. “I’m not here to pressure you into anything. I just want us to get to know

each other better.”
Tiffany leaned forward on her knees and planted her

delicate lips to mine. Then she said, “whatever you say, Sam. Whatever you say.” She kissed me again, and before I

knew it her breasts were in my face, bare and soft and sweet. She cradled my head to them, smothering me, giggling all the while.

“Those guys in the picture weren’t my boyfriends,” Tiffany sighed as I took her slight nipple in my mouth.

“Not my type really.”
I looked up at her, my face between her delicious

breasts. “What’s your type?” I asked.
Tiffany stroked my hair, then gently removed me from

her glorious tits and wiggled from my grasp. She leaned back against the armrest of the couch, her 34 GG melons swinging freely over her open romper.

“Not really a type I guess,” she shrugged, tits jiggling. “More of a fantasy at this point...since I’ve never done it

before.”

I wiped my mouth. “What do you mean...fantasy?” I was stiff inside my sweatpants, hardly listening to what

she was saying, as convinced as I’d ever been that we were about to sleep together. The anxiety of my modest size even seemed dulled in that moment, a touch of confidence finally seeping into my belly. I was ready. And I didn’t care if she saw my completely average penis in all its glory. She’d have to know my body eventually - why not then?

“Sure you wanna know?” she grinned, her long red hair falling past her shoulders and tickling the tops of her

bosoms. “It’s sort of naughty.”
I was confused. Only a moment ago she’d been in my

lap, kissing me, nursing me...now she was out of reach, talking about something else. A fantasy. A kink? Something she wanted me to do perhaps? My erection implored me forward.

“You can tell me anything, Tiff,” I said breathless. “I don’t care how kinky it is...I’d try anything with you.”

She looked perplexed for a moment, and then her smile broke apart into a mocking laugh. “Not with you,

silly. It’s got nothing to do with you, trust me.”
The excitement in my pants died down in a blink, and suddenly the courage was sucked from my body. I watched

her lean forward and pick her wine up off the side table. I stared at the way her thin neck worked as she drank...I let my eyes fall down to those bare beauties hanging below. Was she teasing me?

“Flip through a few more pictures,” she nodded at the phone in my hand. “Tell me when you get to the one of me

in the Rockies.”
It took all I had to tear my eyes from her and look at

the phone. I began to thumb through nervously, looking

for the photo she was talking about. Each picture that passed was like a copy and paste of the one before it. Here was Tiffany surrounded by a group of muscled, shirtless men on a beach somewhere in southern California. Here she was in a tight-fitting sweater on the shores of Lake Tahoe, red hair in two perfect ponytails and flanked by some dashing young light-skinned man with a mustache. In yet another she’s in a hot tub, a sprawling view of the ocean behind her as she has her back rubbed by some tattooed Instagram model with a mohawk and white teeth.

Picture after picture of Tiffany with provocative clothing and handsome men. Each time I swiped to a new

one I felt a little more of my confidence draining, a little more of that bravery being snuffed out into the dirt.

And then I came to the one of her in the Rocky Mountains. I held it up.

“That’s Jayson,” Tiffany said, narrowing her gaze on the photo. “Notice anything different about him than the

other guys?”
Not exactly sure what she was getting at, confounded

as to why she was topless and taunting me, I looked again at the photo on the iPhone screen. It was Tiffany in fashionable ski gear, the snow-capped peaks of the Rockies filling out the background. Her jacket was unzipped enough to show the sides of her breasts, and when I saw the man standing next to her it jogged my memory - I’d seen this photo before. On her Instagram.

“He’s black,” I said at last. “And like...sheesh, I dunno maybe 6’7? 6’8?”

“Six ten,” she corrected me. “I met him totally by chance in Aspen. He plays professional basketball. He was

there with his family, sadly.”

“Why is that sad, Tiffany?” “Because...now don’t judge me Sam, this is a safe space, right? Well...I wanted to, you know, fuck him.”

Hearing the words from her lips was jarring. “And not just because he’s an athlete and he’s

famous...but because he’s black. I’ve never been with a black guy before. I didn’t even know it was something I wanted until that day...when we went to take the picture, he copped a feel when his wife wasn’t looking...had anybody else done that, any white guy, I probably would have screamed and made a scene. But when Jayson did it...I don’t know. Something stirred inside, you know? Something woke up.”

I gulped. “Why are you telling me this, Tiffany?”

“We’re getting to know each other, right?” she said. “Which is what you wanted. I’m just...opening up to you,

Sammy.”
I nodded for her to go on, biting my tongue.

“I remember looking at his, you know, his bulge inside those ski pants he was wearing. Believe it or not I haven’t

been with a ton of men, Sam. And of those guys maybe one or two were what you’d call hung. But I could tell just by looking at him that everything about him was bigger. Everything. That picture was taken a year ago and to be honest with you, I’ve sort of thought about it a lot since that day.”

I crossed my legs out of instinct, not really conscious of it. “So you’re saying you want...like, a really hung guy?”

“Mmhmm,” she grinned, twirling her wine glass in such a way that the base of it slid across her hard nipple.

“Hung and black, preferably. I dunno why. Why does anyone like the things they like?”

I sat silent and still, all trace of my earlier excitement gone. I wasn’t even staring at Tiffany anymore, as if her

perky watermelon breasts weren’t out and exposed. Suddenly I was nervous. As if I’d been burdened with a secret simply by Tiffany telling me her fantasy.

What would she think when she saw mine? Could I actually let her?

“What’s the matter, Sammy,” she said, tilting her head to the side and letting her hair fall with it. “You look like

you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I guess it just seems sort of shallow is all,” I winced.

“To judge someone entirely by their looks.” She giggled then, and I hated the sound of it.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, my voice starting to shake.

“Isn’t that why you started talking to me in the supermarket that day, Sam? My looks?”

“I was trying to catch up,” I lied. “With someone I went to school with that I hadn’t seen in years.”

“Oh yes I’m sure,” she taunted me. “My ass in those jeans had nothing to do with it.”

I ignored her comment.
“Judging me are you, Sammy?” she said, leaning back

further on the couch and spreading her legs. The romper revealed the entirety of her fair legs, and it outlined that precious area between her thighs. “All I said was I was curious about fucking a black dude. Lots of girls are.”

“Yeah whatever,” I said.

“Sounds like you’re getting jealous...remember Sam, we’re just friends for now. No room for that sort of

possessiveness on this van.”
“My van,” I said under my breath.

“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I sighed. “I think I’m going to get ready for

bed...” but my voice trailed off as her nimble hands came to her hanging breasts and began to squeeze.

“Don’t be so uptight, Sammy,” she breathed, putting on a show for me. “I’ve shown you mine after all...why

don’t you show me yours?”
I froze. “Show you what?”

“What do you think?” she breathed. Dumfounded I stared at Tiffany play with her tits,

watched the way the honey-soft flesh pushed between her fingers.

Tiffany raised her eyebrows and nodded at me. “You showed me your tits,” I said nervous and fast,

trying to crack a joke. “I’m not sure that’s a fair trade.” “Oh no?” Tiffany let go of her right breast and reached

down to where the bottom of the romper clung to the tops of her thighs. She wiggled two fingers into the crotch and pulled the fabric to the side.

There in the low light of the van was her luscious pink sex. Moist folds of flesh pushed together, smooth and soft.

At the top of that succulent slit was a perfect red landing strip of pubic hair, groomed and even. She spread her legs wider for me, those sticky sweet lips parting just so.

“Fuck,” I moaned.
“Does that turn you on, Sammy?” she asked. I nodded.
“Does it get you hard?”

I swallowed. I nodded again.
“Then let me see,” she sighed, running a single finger

along her crevice. “Show me your cock, Sam.” Screaming Fight or Flight raced into my bloodstream

and that painful rigidity I’d had only a moment ago became a dried-up earthworm on the sidewalk. Terror and confusion had set in. What little mass I’d had was now gone and if it was too embarrassing to show her it at its best...I couldn’t allow it at my worst.

“Show me your fat cock, Sam,” Tiffany spread her supple lips with two fingers and revealed a lighter shade of

pink within. A hooded button above and a beckoning entrance below. It was damp.

Pulling myself together, seizing what I could of the moment, I swung for the fences.

“Let me go down on you,” I gasped. “I want to make you cum, Tiffany.”

She pulled the romper further to the side along her thigh and bucked her hips at me, the ripples of her breasts

dancing in the dim light. “Don’t you want to fuck me, Sam? Don’t you?” Tiffany’s voice turned to a high whine, and I couldn’t tell if she was serious or fucking with me. In the short time I’d known her she could be extremely sarcastic, and not at all stupid. What was she getting at?

“I’ve had a lot of wine,” I lied, leaning over the couch towards her, a foot within her grasp. “Let me go down on

you first.”
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed with a knowing grin. She

lifted her hips in the air, planting both feet into the couch cushion between us and wagging her sex around in my face like a hummingbird to a feeder. I stared straight along

the art of her body, from her shaven and styled cunt to the vast breasts that hid her face.

“Show me your dick, Sam,” I heard her say. “And I’ll let you fuck me raw.”

I took her by the hips then, both hands and she was so warm, and pushed them back into the couch. She laughed

wildly when I did it, her tits like an ocean of white as they swayed on her tiny frame.

“Let me go down on you first,” I stared into her eyes. “To show you I’m not just here for the fuck...I care about

you, Tiffany. And I’m more concerned with you feeling good than what I can take from you. Let me prove it.”

Tiffany stared back at me, her intoxicated face alight with mischief. There were things happening behind her eyes I could only guess at. But it sort of felt like she was

calculating. Like she was rearranging the shelves of this whole deal in her mind to something more to her liking.

“You can’t hide forever, Sammy,” she sighed, running her hands through my hair, and pushing me down to her

sex. “But I suppose you’ve earned this much...” When I tasted her warm wetness the confusion of the

evening vanished. I explored every piece of her cunt with my tongue and kissed at it lovingly until she came in my mouth, dripping and soaked.

That night I crawled into bed beside her, a fly in the web of a black widow, pacified and confused.

4.
The days rolled by quicker after those first two weeks.

Most of the time it was me driving while Tiff worked on content - always her fingers tapping away, always working on something.

After Maine we worked our way down the east coast, eventually landing in the Carolinas for a few days. Then we

were headed west, where we spent some time in New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah.

Time was moving quickly, and I was OK with where things were between Tiffany and I. She was letting me

sleep in the bed with her (albeit with a good bit of space between us and little to no cuddling) and had even let me go down on her again. She’d been drunk of course, and it had come after a good string of days where she’d been cold and distant towards me, but it was still incredibly

passionate, and I’d been able to get off in my pants while she was distracted.

Tiffany hadn’t seen me naked yet. And I wasn’t sure how I was going to handle that when the time came.

“There’s a VanLife meetup happening in California this weekend,” she called absently from the back one day

as we drifted through Arizona. She was working on her laptop, furiously typing up some new piece of content she refused to let me read. “I think we should go. Those parties are always fun, and it might be nice for us to hang out with some people other than each other.”

“What kind of party is it?” I asked.
“Just a meetup for other people in the lifestyle. Share

stories, whiskey, fire. That sort of thing.”
“Are you going to introduce me as your boyfriend?” I glanced in the rearview mirror at her, half joking. I could

see her huddled over the laptop in the work area, and she didn’t seem to find the idea as amusing as me.

“Hilarious, Sam,” she said, before returning to her work.

The van’s shower was similar in size to an airplane bathroom. There was just enough room for me in there to be able to turn around and wash and get all the important

bits but bending over was out of the question. The real tricky part was exiting without Tiffany seeing me naked. You see, to get to the towel you had to hang it up outside on the door of the shower itself, which involved opening the shower door. Naked. So each time I finished up, I would open it just enough to reach my arm out and around to retrieve my towel.

We were parked in an overnight lot somewhere outside of Joshua Tree when I went in to wash up one

evening. Tiffany and I bathed every other day, and that particular evening it was my turn. So I set my towel on the hook of the shower door, went inside and disrobed, then opened the shower an inch to toss my clothes out.

Tiffany was in the back, using the cell booster to push internet to her laptop so she could post some new content.

When I finished washing, I cut the water and cracked the door. I reached out and around to retrieve the towel.

It was gone.
“Fuck,” I muttered. “Hey Tiff? Where’d my towel go?” Only the sound of clacking keyboard keys came back. “Tiff? My towel?”
“Oh shit,” she called from the back. “I spilled some

wine on the floor and had to clean it up. I can bring you a fresh one.”

“Thanks,” I said, pulling the door closed. “Leave it on the hook if you don’t mind.”

I stood there dripping wet, starting to get cold. I stared down at my penis, that thing that seemed intent on

keeping me from getting what I wanted. It was damp and shriveled, maybe three inches long and shockingly thin, all but lost in my bush of black pubic hair. In its current state the excess skin from my shaft practically covered the little pink head despite the fact that I’m circumcised.

In a split-second decision I grabbed my dick and started wiggling it around. If by some mistake Tiffany did

see my dick tonight, I wasn’t going to have it in its most embarrassed, most underwhelming state. I needed as much size as I could get.

After a moment of motion my dick came to life. And Tiffany’s voice came at the door.

“Here you go, Sam,” she said softly.
“Can you set it on the hook?”
“Why would I do that? Just open up and I’ll hand it to

you.”
I gritted my teeth. Turning my back to the door, I

reached behind me and pushed it open an inch, just barely sliding my bony hand through the crack.

“You’re serious right now, Sam?” Tiffany’s voice was clearer with the door open. “You’ve seen me walk out of

this shower naked how many times now?”
Too many times to count was the truth. After she’d let

me go down on her, Tiffany became a lot less modest around the van. She’d walk stark naked from the shower to the dressers in the back, taking her time as she dried and dressed. Sometimes it was so blatant I wondered if she was deliberately teasing me. We’d gotten physical together a

total of two times in two and a half weeks, and her constant display of nudity always led nowhere. It kept me in a state of constant pre-nut fog - daydreaming and fantasizing, lowering my overall awareness.

“Just hand me the towel, Tiff,” I said, facing the wall, knowing full well she could see my bare ass.

“I never noticed what chubby lil’ butt you have,” she giggled. “I mean, OK I noticed but it’s got even more juice

up close.”
I blushed. “Gee thanks,” I said sarcastically. “Mind if I

dry it off now?” “Sure thing,” she said.

Tiffany wrenched the door open.
“Jesus!” I exclaimed, turning my entire back to her

and sending both hands down to my crotch to cover. “I’m

freezing, Tiff! The towel please!” I could feel her eyes burning holes in my back...in my ass.

“Come get it,” she said. “It’s right here. Just reach out and take it.”

I slowly craned my neck to look over my shoulder. Tiffany was a foot or so behind me, the towel clutched in

her hand as she held it out at an inconvenient length from my body. I would have to turn around to reach it. And move my hand to grab it.

“What the fuck, Tiff,” I sighed. “What is this?” “Your towel, sir,” she chuckled. “You better take it and

cover that cake of yours. I’m starting to get flashes of jealousy and envy looking at those cheeks.”

I felt my neck go red and my breath grow short. Cold wet humiliation covered me.

“Are you going to stand there and freeze or you going to take the towel, Sam?”

She was testing me. Or teasing. Or both.
“Can I please have the towel, Tiffany?” I begged. “Sure you can it’s right here, buddy. Go on and take

it.”
I frowned at her over my shoulder. I took two steps

backward, hands still wrapped tight around my measly package. Then I swung one arm back behind me, half-blind and reaching for the towel in Tiffany’s hand.

She snatched it back out of my reach. “COME ON ALREADY TIFFANY!” I yelled. I was

standing out of the shower now, right in the middle of the van, dripping wet. “ENOUGH GAMES!”

“You’re just no fun at all, huh Sammy?” I heard her say. An instant later a definitive CRACK of the towel

slapped off my ass, causing me to jump naked into the air. Fed up and frustrated, I turned and lunged for the towel all in one motion, hoping that in her surprise she

wouldn’t get a clear look at my manhood. It worked. She shrieked when I came at her, giggling madly like a little girl, and tossed the towel at me.

I caught it and brought to my waist in one motion. “You’re shyer than I thought, Sammy,” she giggled,

watching me stalk to the back of the van. “You’re too hung up on this nudity thing. You’ve got to learn to be freer when you’re out on the road!”

I pulled the curtain on the back room and rifled through the two drawers Tiffany had allotted me for

clothes. I dressed quickly; afraid she might barge in at any

moment. Her newest drunken pastime seemed to be tormenting me until I showed her my dick. The sad fact was that I just wasn’t ready. Not after what she’d told me about her fantasy.

When I came out a short while later, she was up front with a glass of wine, staring out the windshield to the dark

empty lot beyond. Our eyes met in the rearview when I approached.

“All better, Sam?” she raised her eyebrows.
I ignored the question and took a seat beside her in the passenger. This time when she looked at me, I could

see her whole face. And written in the smooth curves of her luscious lips and rounded cheeks was one obvious thought: disappointment.

“I think maybe you should sleep back out on the couch tonight, Sam,” she said. “Perhaps I’m making you

uncomfortable with how shameless I’ve been...I shouldn’t expect the same behavior from you, I guess. I sort of thought if you did want to get closer to me, you wouldn’t mind a little playfulness.”

I could feel her pulling away from me. “I don’t mind it, Tiff,” I said, a bit too much desperation in my voice. “We

can be as playful as you want it’s just...I get a bit shy about things, about my body.”

“You need to get over that,” she shrugged. “Please let me sleep in the bed with you tonight, Tiff,”

I gave myself over to the panic. To the pleading. “Don’t make us a take a step backwards. Not now.”

Her eyes drifted away from me. “It’s not really me saying you can’t sleep in the bed, Sam...it’s more like

you’re showing me you aren’t as ready for it as I thought. I

mean, we’ve been sharing that mattress for weeks now and you haven’t made a single move on me.”

That stung. And it made me reevaluate every decision and thought I’d had on that trip. Was I going about this all

wrong? Was I being too patient?
“I would have if I’d known you wanted it,” I said. Tiffany stood up, her tired face like a mask in the

moonlight streaming through the windshield. “Let’s just cool it for a days, OK? Show me you want this, open up to me...and earn your way back into the bed. And maybe from there things can go further...but for now, it’s the couch for you. Alright?”

I nodded, crushed.
“Like I said Sam, this isn’t really my choice. Any of

this. I can’t have you blaming me for the way you’re acting. Think on it tonight and I’m sure you’ll see what I mean.”

I watched her walk to the back of the van, lower the bed from the ceiling and draw the curtain.

That night sleep never came, and I spent those dark hours trying to reason a way out of the hole I’d dug myself

into.
And yet I couldn’t help feeling that it was Tiffany, not

me, who’d done the digging.

5.
His van was sleek and black, and it moved with crisp

determination down the gravel road that led to the meetup. Two old school headlights peered out like wild orange eyes, and as the vehicle drew closer it was easier to see the dark frame looming behind the wheel.

Tiffany and I sat around a screaming bonfire with a dozen other people, chatting and telling stories of the road. “Someone’s late to the party,” I mumbled, nodding my

head at the newly arrived Dodge.
“Nice ride though isn’t it,” Tiffany sat beside me on a

folding chair, a PBR clutched in one hand and a joint in the other. Her outfit that evening had given me pause when she first stepped off the van in it - average denim overalls, blue and cutely oversized - except she was naked beneath, utterly and completely. Her demanding breasts

pushed at the front of the overalls, causing the straps to tighten at her shoulders. The entire sides of her breasts were in full view, pale and soft and rounded. So were her slender sides and delicate ribs. Paired with a cute green bandana against her flaming red hair she looked like the Goddess of farmer’s daughters everywhere.

The newly arrived van parked about twenty yards from us, directly next to our van.

Idle chatter went on all around me, and faint music played from a car stereo somewhere over in the line of

vehicles. Tiffany was chatting with an older woman about how long she’d been on the road, about what she liked to cook for dinner. On my other side were old friends that hadn’t seen each other in some months but were overjoyed to be at the same nomadic meetup before they headed in opposite directions again in the morning. It was a perfect

circle of van dwellers and adventure seekers situated around a roaring fire, and the stories they told were both fascinating and scary.

But I couldn’t focus on a one of them. No, I was watching the new arrival. He was sitting idly in the driver’s seat, just far enough from the firelight that I couldn’t make

out what he looked like. The luminous orange eyes on the front of his vehicle clicked off, and a moment later the driver’s door opened. He stepped out.

“Well look who it is,” the older gentlemen beside me said, his wiry eyes alight with recollection as he watched

the new arrival approach from the dark. “Marvin Moorhead. Shadow of the lower forty-eight, they call him. Often spoken of, rarely seen. I’ll be damned.”

The old man’s voice had a touch of awe to it, and I could sort of understand why when the stranger stepped

into the light of the campfire.
He was lean and lanky, and walked with a strange

hiccup in his long-shanked step. His skin was the color of dark toffee, and there was certainly a good bit of it on display, considering he had no shirt on. He was cut and defined; each muscle traced in butterscotch with jagged veins running through his arms. A thin gold chain hung between the lines of his pecs with a charm in the shape of the Taurus suspended there. He wore a pair of tight-fitting blue jeans, denim, almost what you’d label as ‘skinny jeans’ although it was hard to say if that was the fit, or just how he filled them out.

And there was certainly no question about that detail in particular. He definitely filled them out. Every bit of

them.
His face was hard but not unhandsome, with swollen

sensual lips and a patch of black facial hair on his chin. His afro was short and close-cropped, near to the scalp. A faint shimmer on his bare abs and chest indicated he’d been sweating, and he stood there at the head of the circle with his sinewed arms crossed, surveying us all.

“They say Marvin once pulled a woman from a burning car on the side of the highway,” the old man

leaned in and whispered when he noticed me staring. “And then he carried her right over to that 66 Dodge of his and calmed her right down, if yah catch my drift sonny.”

“Is that so?” I whispered back, unable to avert my stare. There was something in his posturing, in that

lengthy frame and dark stare of his that gave me pause. As Marvin began to walk the perimeter of the circle I noticed the hitch in his step again.

“What happened to his leg?” I asked.
The old man chuckled a smidge. “No one can say for

sure...no one’s had the gall to ask. But many suspect it’s from an incident out East some years back. Somethin’ about Marvin paying too much attention to the wrong fella’s wife, if you catch my drift. Reports differ on who was in the wrong on that one - Marvin and his notorious appetites, or the persistent young wife of a crooked politician. Either way, Marvin came out of it with a limp...and that politician’s wife, well she got something permanent of her own, too.”

I watched Marvin linger about ten feet from us, saying a quiet hello to some fellow travelers near the fire. Tiffany

was still deep in conversation with her older friend, and without really realizing it I snaked a tentative arm around her waist and kept it there.

“Permanent?” I asked.
“A child,” the old man laughed. “They say the day the

boy was born that politician fell face flat in the delivery room, pale as a goddamn ghost!”

The old nomad cackled on in my ear, and when Marvin Moorhead got within a few feet I averted my eyes.

He didn’t seem like the type of person who would take well to being stared at.

My arm tightened about Tiffany’s midsection. “Are you OK?” Tiffany turned to me. “What’s all this

about?”
“What’s what about?”

“You know what about!” she admonished me. “PDA, Sam? Really? Are you still upset that I didn’t introduce you

as my boyfriend earlier?”
I stalled. Caught. “Of course not,” I lied. “I’m just cold.

It’s cold out here.”
“Sam this fire is a million degrees,” Tiffany shook my

arm loose. “Find someone else to cuddle with, I’m hot as hell!”

A stick snapped behind us.
“No question about that,” a voice from above. “No

question at all.”
Tiffany and I turned our gaze upwards in

simultaneous motion. Marvin Moorhead was tall on any account, but from my angle he was a redwood.

Before either of us could answer, Marvin reached a lanky arm out and offered it to Tiffany. She took it without

hesitation, and I watched her rise from the chair like an enchanted snake.

The old man beside me quieted down, as did several of the others on our side of the fire.

“You’re Tiffany,” Marvin said, his voice atmospheric and low. “Was wondering when I’d run into you out here.”

She looked childish beside him, which made me look even more foolish considering I was sitting. I rectified the

issue immediately and got to my feet behind Tiffany. Marvin dwarfed us both.

“I’ve heard about you,” Tiffany said, curious but controlled. She could feel the eyes of the others as well as I

could. “You’re Marvin Moorhead, aren’t you? Funny, I thought you’d be taller.”

“Seriously?” Marvin smirked.

“No,” she said, flames dancing in her eyes. “Not serious at all.”

An electric silence danced between the two of them, almost uncomfortable to watch.

Awkwardly I shifted on my feet, moving around the side of Tiffany to introduce myself. “I’m Sam,” I said firmly, offering my hand. “I’m uh, Tiffany’s...friend.”

It was a strange angle to try and shake someone’s hand from, the way I was reaching past Tiffany from

behind her. Marvin’s stormy eyes reluctantly drifted from the redhead in overalls to me, and he looked at my hand like I was offering him spoiled milk.

“Sam, huh?” Marvin reached out and for a moment I thought he was trying to shake with the wrong hand...then

I realized he wasn’t trying to shake at all. He was snatching the foldout chair, my chair. Marvin placed it behind him

and sat down, Tiffany and him now at eye level. “I heard there’s beer around here some where’s, Sam,” he went on. “Why don’t you go find one and bring it to me?”

Taken aback by his discourtesy, I balked. I tried to retort with something and failed.

“Go on and grab it sonny,” the old man winked at me from where he sat. “You said it yerself’ - you’re new to this nomad life. Sometimes you’ve gotta earn the respect of the

vets. Get Marvin his beer and open yer’ ears up. You might learn a thing or two!”

I didn’t like how Marvin was looking at Tiffany. And I liked how she was looking at him even less.

“Get the old timer one too while you’re at it,” Marvin said flippantly. “How about you, girl,” he turned his eyes

back to Tiff. “You need another?”

Tiffany looked at me, shaking her empty can back and forth. “There’s a hole in my beer, Sam. I swear.”

Feeling the outcast, I turned to go find the beers. I’d never been one to shy away from confrontation, and I’m by

no means some sort of walk all over me doormat, but in that particular moment I felt alone. Ally-less.

“Dig around in the bottom for the cold ones!” Marvin called after me, Tiffany’s laughter close behind.

The beer cooler was around the other side of the bonfire, which had grown so tall at that point you couldn’t see through the center of it. Here and there other nomads

and van-lifers chatted and drank as the meetup steadily grew rowdier.

Was she trying to piss me off? I wondered, digging around in the beer-filled fridge for three crispy cans. Or is

she trying to push me away? Or is this just some fucking

test of hers, some weird mind game? I was still hurt, still hung up on the fact that she’d given me the boot from the bedroom. But I was angrier at myself for not seizing the chance when I had it...at least, that was according to Tiffany. Would she really have gone for it if I made a move? Or was she just saying that to string me along, to keep the fucking van?

Marvin and Tiffany were in such steadfast conversation when I handed them their beers, they barely

looked at me. The old man gave me a sort of half-shrug apology when I handed him his, but in his eyes, I could see he really just felt bad for me.

“Here yah go sonny,” he said, pulling a pint of Jameson from his coat pocket and handing it to me. “Was

savin’ that for a special occasion but you look like you need it more than I do!”

I sat down in the dirt with my back leaning against Tiffany’s chair, her and Marvin chatting incessantly about

vans and the roads they’d driven them on. “Thanks,” I said, accepting the little green bottle. “But you say that like I’m doomed or something.” I unscrewed the cap and took a hard, staggering pull.

“Let’s just say you had a chance to stop this whole thing before the train left the station,” his old grey eyes

drifted up to chatty Tiffany and her new dark friend. “But I fear it’s chuggin’ along at full speed now.”

The whiskey went fast, and so did my lucidity. The fire was hot on my skin, and my impatience with Tiffany only

increased as the night went on. My vision grew blurry, and the few words I did speak became slurred and incoherent. It was as if I didn’t exist to Tiffany that night, like she’d

forgotten whose van it was we’d driven here, whose van that was going to take us to Oregon in the morning.

“You’ve got to show me the interior,” I heard Tiffany say to Marvin. Most of the others had gone to bed by that

late hour, and even I only hung on out of sheer drunken stubbornness.

“Happy to,” he said, and I could just hear the shit eating grin on his face. “But what about sleepy boy there.

He coming to?”
“Who? Oh, Sam.” Tiffany turned around in her seat

and looked at me. I was lying in the dirt, longways between some logs and the fire. “What are you still doing up?” she asked, smirking. “I thought you’d gone to bed an hour ago.”

“Look...who...finally...talking...to me...” I hiccupped it out a word at a time. “So...good...of you...to notice...”

They laughed at me, like my words made no sense. Tiffany’s smiling face mocked me, and past her Marvin sat scratching his chin and shaking his head. Like I was stupid

or something. Like I was pathetic.
I tried to sit up and fell backwards.

“Wow,” Tiffany giggled. “You are a mess tonight, huh buddy?”

“Wouldn’t let him sleep in the van if I were you,” Marvin said. “He probably pukes the second he lays

down.”
“You’re right,” Tiffany said. “Let me get him a pillow

and blanket...” she said something else to, but it was a whisper, and I was too far gone to make it out.

“No...uh-uh,” I mumbled, but I’m not sure if I actually said it or just thought it. I remember lifting my head up

and resting it back down on a pillow, I remember curling

the blanket up to my chin as the last embers of the bonfire wisped out in the dark.

I knew I was alone then. And I slept.
In the morning the sound of tires on gravel woke me,

and shortly thereafter a pounding headache set in that forced me to my feet. A long line of vans was leaving the trailhead where the meetup had taken place. I could see them pulling out onto the highway, one by one turning off the side road and onto the main.

Only two vans remained. Mine. And the vintage. Marvin’s van.

“He lives,” Tiffany called from the open side door of our van. She stepped out into the early morning dressed

the same as the night before - blue overalls and nothing else beneath, the sides of her fair breasts eye-catching even from yards away. “How’d you sleep?”

“Awful,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “Is Marvin still here?”

On cue, Marvin appeared. Stepping out of my van. “It’ll do for a few days, maybe a week,” he said to

Tiffany, “sleeping could get cramped though.” Tiffany stifled a giggle and said, “we’ll we will figure it

out I’m sure.”
“I’m confused,” I grumbled. “What’s going on? What

were you doing in my van, Marvin?” Marvin laughed at the question. At me.

“Our van you mean, Sam,” Tiffany corrected me, covering the few feet between us and looking at me

tenderly. “Marvin was just bringing some his bags in. Don’t go getting all jealous, OK?”

“Bags?” I squinted. “Why is Marvin putting his bags in our van, Tiffany?”

Marvin chuckled again, turned his back on Tiff and I, and went back inside my 120,000 dollar automobile.

“Marvin’s ride is on the fritz,” she wrinkled her nose at me, cute as can be. “He tried to get out of here early this

morning, but it won’t turn over for him. He thinks the block might be cracked.”

Head pounding and more confused by the minute, I tried to mask my frustration. “Ok well what does that

mean? What does that have to do with Marvin and my van?”

“Our van.”
“OUR VAN!” I screamed so loud my head hurt. Tiffany glared at me.
“Sorry,” I said weakly. “Sorry my head hurts...can you

just tell me what the hell is going on, Tiffany?”

Tiffany pursed her lips. Patience gone. “We’re giving Marvin a lift down to Louisiana. So he can get to his other

ride.”
I thought on this news for a moment, still half-drunk

from the night before. “But Louisiana is on the other side of the country, Tiff. How’s that going to work?”

“Should only take a few days to get down there, a week tops,” Tiffany tucked her thumbs through the straps of her overalls, tugging down and nonchalantly exposing the tops

of her milky breasts. “Kinda works out since you bought one of the biggest vans on the market, Sam. Three’s a crowd but we’ll make it work.”

She turned on her heels and started to walk away. “Tiffany wait,” I said meekly.
She turned, shielding her eyes from the early morning

sun but hiding none of her staunch beauty.

“There’s got to be another way,” I plead. “There isn’t room for all of us on there. Especially not him. He’s a big

guy.”
She nodded agreement and I grew hopeful. “He is a

big guy,” she said at last. “But we can’t leave a fellow lifer stranded. He’s coming. We’ll make it work.” Tiffany turned once more and headed for the open van door, leaving me there in stoned silence.

“Oh and I almost forgot,” she turned to me again. “You’re going to need to clear some drawers out for

Marvin. We don’t have enough space for both of you. You’ll have to throw some of your clothes away...pick your least favorites, I guess.”

I watched her denim-clad bubble butt rise into the air as she stepped into the van.

We were on the road twenty minutes later.

6.
“Can we talk?”
“Not now, Sam.”
“Just real quick? While he’s in the bathroom?” “Jesus Sam you’re bickering with me like we’re a

couple!” Tiffany’s voice was a shout inside a whisper. “We are not a couple, OK? Not yet...”

She was doing it again. Giving me just enough bait not to leave. I knew exactly what she was doing but was

helpless against it.
Not yet...it echoed in my brain, that single light of

hope. We’re not a couple YET...
The bathroom door opened, and Marvin walked out

still buttoning his jeans. For a brief moment I saw too much - a bushel of wiry-black pubic hair and something fat and dark dangling beneath it. Then it was gone, replaced

by him attempting to run the zipper over the vulgar swell in his crotch. Marvin was shirtless still, and he had to duck when he walked around the van.

“This van is amazing,” Marvin remarked, observing every nook and cranny as he walked to the back of it. “You

say the two of you split it?”
Tiffany looked at me from behind the wheel. “Sort of,” I said. “I gave half of it to Tiffany.”

Marvin flicked the switch for the bed, and it lowered down slowly on its mechanical track. When it was all the

way down, he sat on the edge of it...then laid in it. “Gave it to her huh?” he remarked, snuggling

shoulders and back into the mattress as if it were his own. “So what? That make you two boyfriend and girlfriend?” “No,” Tiffany answered before I could speak. “We’re

friends. That’s it.”

“Nice friend,” Marvin snickered. “Comfy bed, too. Almost long enough I don’t have to bend my knees.” He got further onto the mattress, ruffling Tiffany’s blankets

up, laying his head at one end and his size 14 feet at the other, a slight bend in his bad leg.

I scowled at the sight. “Make yourself at home why don’t you, Marvin.”

“Knock it off, Sam,” Tiffany chided, setting the van to cruise control and pivoting her right foot into the driver’s seat, nonchalantly steering the vessel across the deserted

highway. She lowered her voice so only I could hear. “You might think this is strange but it’s a rule of the road. You don’t leave another lifer stranded. Ever. You wouldn’t know...but Marvin does. And so do I. Respect the tradition. OK, Sam?”

I pouted in silence, constantly fuming that Marvin had found his way into my van...into my life. His shirtless

frame, his bare skin touching the bed that I paid for, that I was supposed to be sharing with Tiffany....it made me sick. Sicker than the hangover plaguing me that day.

After a while I got up and moved to the couches in the center of the vehicle. The moment Marvin noticed I’d

moved, he got out of Tiffany’s bed and joined her at the front, replacing me in the passenger seat.

I watched him. His eyes traced the perfect lines of her side-tit poorly concealed in the overalls.

“You still trying to make some content?” he asked her. “Post on my page, share to yours? Should make a big

impact on both of our YouTube’s don’t you think?”

“For sure,” Tiffany shot him a smile. “I think two of the biggest van-lifers on the internet teaming up for some

content is just the thing my socials need.”
“How we gonna shoot it though?” Marvin’s voice was smooth as silk. “The idea you had seems tricky with just a

tripod.”
“Sam’s going to do it,” Tiffany glanced at the rearview.

“Aren’t you Sam?”
I wasn’t listening. I was staring at Marvin staring at

Tiffany, and I was fuming with jealousy. He was treating the place like it was his, not even polite enough to put a shirt on.

“Sam?” Tiffany asked again. “Marvin and I are going to make some content today and we need your help. You’re

going to film it, OK?”

I leaned back against the couch, rubbing my temples. “Sure whatever,” I said. “But we should probably talk

about sleeping arrangements first.”
“OK let’s talk,” Tiffany sighed. “What exactly are you

concerned about, Sam?”
I blinked. “Um...well where is Marvin going to sleep?

I’m certainly not giving up the couch. And the loveseat is too small for him. I guess we could make room on the floor...”

Marvin sat in the passenger seat, stifling his laughter against the back of his hand.

“We’re not putting Marvin on the floor, Sam,” Tiffany flicked her blinker on and merged into the right lane. “He

can sleep in the bed. There’s plenty of room.”
The hum of the tires on the highway seemed louder

suddenly.

“And where are you going to sleep?” I tried to catch her gaze through the rearview, but she was concentrated

on the road. That or purposely ignoring me. Then, nonchalantly, she spoke. “Uhhh, the bed?

Where else am I going to sleep?”
Marvin turned in his seat and flashed white teeth in a

sly grin.
“You’re going to sleep with Marvin in the bed?” I said,

the words faltering on my lips.
“Is that a problem?” Tiffany said. “We take care of our

own, Sam. How many times do I have to tell you that?” “Kid will get it eventually,” Marvin added, turning

back around and relaxing in his seat. “Or he won’t. Nomading isn’t for everyone I guess.”

“No it’s not,” she tsked. “No - it’s - not.”

I kept quiet after that, doing my best to ignore their easy conversation. I stewed all afternoon, over a hundred

miles, imagining them together in a bed barely big enough for Tiffany and myself. Was she going to fuck him? Was she really? In my fucking van?

Or was she actually following some sort of road code? I tried to hang on to that thought. Tiffany could certainly

share a bed in a plutonic way, I knew that better than anyone. Maybe this is just how she was with other travelers.

I’ve never been with a black guy before, Sam...I didn’t even know it was something I wanted until that day...

The image of Tiffany topless on the couch beside me that night flooded my brain. Her sexually charged words

shattering my faith.

...hung and black, preferably. I dunno why. Why does anyone like the things they like?

As her words replayed in my head, I watched Marvin reach across the center console and twist a lock of Tiffany’s

hair between his bony fingers. “This natural?” “Sure is,” she assured him.

“How natural?”
Tiffany erupted into a fit of giggles, and I closed my

eyes and tried to get some rest.
We pulled into Grand Canyon National Park

sometime near sunset when the earth was glowing red, and that great crevasse opened up before us as deep and wide as the many bewildered emotions swirling in my head and heart. After parking the van, the three of us made our way to a notable scenic overlook that gave a

grand vista for taking pictures. Perfect for Tiffany’s unrelenting content machine.

“OK it’s probably best if you stand right here, Sam,” Tiffany instructed me, the vast beauty of Arizona

stretching out behind her. “Keep the shot nice and steady. Don’t stop till I say, OK?”

In disgruntled, fuming silence I waited for the two of them to set up the shot. Tiffany’s stunning red hair was

parted in two braided pigtails that ran past her shoulders. She was still rocking that farmer’s daughter overalls look, but she’d adjusted the straps of the suspenders so that the front fit tighter and lower. Now, it wasn’t just her rounded side-tit that was on open display, but the top of her cleavage as well. Between her bare chest, shoulders, and arms, there was tons of pale skin for gawking at - perfect for a new TikTok video or Instagram picture.

Marvin stood beside her, a dark monolith over a fragile white girl, shirtless and bulging and smiling ear to

ear.
Tiffany scooted closer to him, and his arm wrapped

around her mid-section below her breasts. “Go ahead and hit record, Sammy,” she said.

I did.
Their demeanors changed for the camera. Tiffany’s

smile turned overly bright and phony, with a touch of seductiveness. Marvin hardened his gaze, ever the tough guy. Tiffany bounced on her toes, those two perfect masses inside the overalls bouncing up and down as she did it.

Then, in one smooth motion, Tiffany leapt into Marvin’s arms. As she threw her body sideways, he lifted her with the arm about her midsection, and then brought the other underneath to catch her legs. They’d gone from

standing side by side to Marvin cradling her body like a baby in the blink of an eye. As Marvin held her high to his chest like a barbell, Tiffany’s tits jostled and came very close to falling out of her overalls. Yet despite their undulating motion and creamy ripples, her breasts stayed hidden. Mostly.

And Marvin and the crush of my life stood there staring at me, at the camera, at the world, the Grand

Canyon stretching on forever behind them at the golden hour. If I hadn’t been so hurt, I’d have said it was beautiful.

“And cut!” Tiffany squealed.
I lowered the camera, but Marvin kept her in his

arms.
“Can we go now?” I asked impatiently.

“Let’s get a group pic,” Tiffany said, arms thrown casually about Marvin’s neck. “Grab the tripod from the

van and we’ll put it on a timer.”
I left the two of them there and walked back to the

van. By the time I returned with the tripod Marvin had set her back down on her feet, but Tiffany was still standing questionably close to him and his bare torso. Setting the tripod up and putting the camera on a timer, I joined the two of them at the edge of the scenic overlook.

Other tourists were meandering about by now, more than a few taking note of the busty redhead and the

shirtless black guy. A group of college kids on a road trip stopped to watch us take pictures, a few young couples as well. I felt out of place with them - strangely normal in dress and stature.

“It’s going to take a bunch of pics,” Tiffany said as the camera counted down. “Let’s do different poses for each!”

Tiffany stood between Marvin and I, placing a thin arm around each of us as the camera began to take

pictures.

CLICK!
“Don’t forget to smile,” Tiffany said, changing her

pose to a profile view and effectively showing the camera and every onlooker the ideal view of her side-tit.

CLICK!

I felt dazed at that photoshoot, not sure anymore of what I was doing or why I was there. When I saw the

pictures later, they would be almost comical to me, how out of it I was...almost comical.

CLICK!

I turned to see what new pose Tiffany was going for and that’s when Marvin stepped behind us, positioning himself with a hand on her shoulder and a hand on me,

like a proud coach without the smile. Tiffany stuck her tongue out and winked at the

camera.

CLICK!

“OK do something silly!” Tiffany squealed, the crowd of tourists around us becoming more and more interested

in the strange scene. I felt Marvin’s meaty paw lift from my shoulder when she said it, and in my peripheral, I saw Tiffany shift her petite frame into a new position - hunching forward, giving the camera and every onlooker a superb view straight down the denim overalls.

CLICK!

I stared straight ahead at the camera with the same vacant expression I’d had for an hour. And suddenly a very

strong part of me wanted this all to be over. Wanted Marvin gone, out of my life. And if that couldn’t happen then I wanted to be gone. Nothing had gone the way I’d planned, and here I was nearly four weeks into a road trip with the girl of my dreams and I wasn’t even farther from having her than when I’d started.

CLICK!

The crowd watching us gasped.
An empty silence filled the cliff over the Grand

Canyon.
The crowd began to laugh. The group of college kids

broke into high guffaws.
And a cool breeze blew across my backside.

CLICK!

I looked down. My pants were around my ankles, underwear too. My flaccid, skinny penis limped from an

overgrown patch of pubic hair.

CLICK! Hahahahahahahahaha
It swelled around me even as I reached down to grab

hold of my pants and yank them back up.

CLICK!

I tugged up frantically from my ankles - but it was no use. Marvin’s boot was standing directly on the waistband

of the pants, pinning them to the ground.

CLICK! Hahahahahahahahaha!
“What the fuck Sam?” Tiffany’s shocked voice

breaking on that last word. On my name. “Ooohhh Sam...oh no...”

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

Laughter ringing in my ears I stood straight and attempted to pivot on my feet, to face Marvin and shove him off the pants. I only half-way succeeded, but when I

shoved Marvin in his broad bare chest I fell backwards, his strength so exceedingly beyond my own.

And that’s when I fell.

CLICK! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Looking up from the ground I could see Tiffany’s

surprised face staring down, a smile somewhere between hilarity and empathetic embarrassment on her mouth. And above her, Marvin, openly laughing, his voice a notch above all the others as the humiliation came in a giant wave.

HAHAHAHAAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

The gathered crowd railed on.
Tiffany’s eyes were on my crotch, and though I put

both hands over to cover, I knew she’d already seen it. She’d seen it good and well and now there was no more hiding. The truth was out there.

CLICK!

I saw the final picture from that day much later, but there was no shock in seeing it because I’d lived it. As I lay

there on the hard asphalt of the scenic overlook, naked from the waist down and trying to cover my shame, I saw Tiffany’s opportunistic eyes dart sideways at the camera.

Then she extended her arm downwards and uncurled one tiny finger at me. She pointed and she laughed...and

Marvin did the same.

CLICK!

7.
I was on the couch under the covers, searching flights

out of Arizona on my phone when I felt Tiffany’s soft hand at my knee.

“Hey Sammy,” she said sweetly. “Can we talk?” I paused my scrolling, head beneath the blankets. “Sammy?”
Begrudgingly, I peeked my head out.
It was dark on the van, almost too dark to see but

Tiffany’s emerald eyes floated above me along with her two red pigtails. Somewhere in the back Marvin was sleeping. In my bed. The same one Tiffany had just come from.

“Are you OK?” she asked.
“How can I be?” I whispered back. “He humiliated

me, Tiff...and you did, too. You were laughing at me. The same as all the rest.”

“I was not,” she said to my face. “I was caught off guard by the whole thing, honest I was Sam. I just didn’t

expect to turn and see...well you know, to see you naked!” “Marvin fucking pulled my pants down, Tiff!”

“I know!” she soothed me with her hand, sliding it below the covers and squeezing my thigh. “He’s such an

asshole sometimes...I had no idea when it happened though. I thought you’d done it, like as a joke. That’s why I was laughing.”

Tiffany’s hand brushed along my inner leg, inching closer to my scared, embarrassed penis. I wanted to call

her a liar just then, tell her I didn’t buy it. Tell her she knew exactly what was going on...but then her fingertips brushed my balls, and I had no protests to give.

“You have nothing to be embarrassed of,” she whispered. “And as far as Marvin is concerned...he’s out of

here in another day or two. Then it’s just you and me again. OK?”

For the first time, Tiffany touched my dick. The ball of her thumb ran over the little pink head and her pointer

finger tickled along the undershaft. I grew rigid between those two fingers as she rubbed them back and forth like she was molding a piece of chewing gum.

“Does that feel good, Sam?” she said, hushed. “Yes,” I whimpered.
With her free hand she pulled her frilly nightgown up

and let her gorgeous breasts swing free.
“I still think we can make this work, Sam,” she said,

enthralling me with her two-digit stroke. “Only a week to go, right? One more week and we make it through this together. Just like you said you wanted.”

“Fuck,” I groaned.

“You still want to be here, don’t you Sam? With me?” “Yessss,” I whispered, terrified Marvin would hear us. “And you still mean what you said? About the

van...about making it back together?” “Uh-huh,” I said absently, staring at her pale breasts in the dark, noticing the way they barely jiggled from the

slight movement happening in her hand.
“You’re still going to sign the rest over to me, right? As

long as we stay together...”
Her words were mush in my head. She was touching

me, filling me up, giving me everything I’d wanted from the start...well, almost everything.

“Say it Sam,” she stroked faster. “Say you still mean it. You want me. And you’re true to your word - about the

van!”

“I mean it,” I groaned, dangerously close. “I meant everything I said...I just want to be with you Tiffany...oh

fuck...”
My knees buckled and my lower stomach filled with

butterflies. I let go inside of my pajama pants, Tiffany’s tiny grasp more than I could handle.

But the very moment that first shot let loose, she unhanded me and snaked her arm out of the covers.

“Tiffany!” I gasped, my lone dick emptying without her. “Tiffany don’t stop...Ooohhhh.”

I closed my eyes, feeling that hot mess spread across my crotch. When I opened them again, Tiffany was

sauntering back down the hall, her night gown still ruffled up over her naked breasts.

She drew the curtain, and I listened as she crawled into bed next to Marvin.

Eventually I drifted off to sleep, as confused as I’d ever been but partly overjoyed at the fact that Tiffany had

shown me attention. In my mind we’d crossed into new territory - now, we had made each other cum. And to me that meant there was only one final step to take.

She’d seen it. She’d felt it. And she hadn’t run. With the prospect of Marvin out of our lives sometime in the

next forty-eight, it seemed a real possibility that we might actually take the next step together. I fell asleep with something like a smile on my face.

I awoke in the early morning to the sound of giggles and pillow talk.

“Do you see it?” Tiffany’s voice. “Nah. Too small,” Marvin. “Zoom in.”

A gale of stifled laughter erupted from behind the curtain that led to the bedroom, girlish and manly mixing

together. What were they looking at?
“It’s a shame Instagram won’t let you post that,”

Marvin said low. “That is a picture for the ages!” “Instagram might not...but OnlyFans certainly will.”

I was still half asleep and not really following their conversation. All I know is their delight irritated me the

moment I heard it. Thin shafts of sunlight were pouring in from the window blinds, and I stared at that motionless curtain wondering what they were up to.

They sounded close together.
“Shhh, you’ll wake him,” she said so softly, the tone of

her voice changing into something more sensual. “I don’t need a sad little boy to tote around with me after you leave.”

“The hell you with that kid for anyway? Might as well nickname this van the Friend Zone for all the action he

getting in it...”
Then Tiffany sighed, long and deep.

“Marvin,” she said.
“I mean look at that picture,” his voice came again

through the curtain. “The fuck you gonna do with that little thing? Phone don’t even zoom far enough in to see it...shit, with all that hair it look more like a pussy than a dick.”

A haunting, unforgettable giggle came from Tiffany just then. It was full of honest amusement, and something else too. Something distracted and urgent. A breathy, rich

laugh that hit my ears like pure evil.
“Oh Marvin,” she whined. “We can’t be too loud...”

Panic gripped me. My stomach clenched; my breath stopped short. My first instinct was to make some sound -

any sound that might stop whatever it was that was happening in there. For a brief moment I even contemplated flinging the blankets off me and marching straight back there...

But she wasn’t my girlfriend. She’d reminded me of that a hundred times.

But it’s your van.

But I’m not in control of her. She isn’t mine.

But it’s yours, buddy boy...bought and paid for...and now there’s some cocky asshole in YOUR bed banging

your crush...and you’re just laying here...

I sat up silently, ears trained to that goddamned curtain.

“Oh Marvin,” her voice shook in its effort to stay quiet. “Fuck baby...”

Soft smacking sounds, wet and full-lipped. Blankets rustling, sheets scrunching.

I placed one foot after the other quite slowly onto the hardwood floor. Rising an inch at a time I found myself

standing, taking one cautious step after another towards the grey curtain.

“You feel it?” his voice came sultry and smooth. “You want it in you?”

“Shhh,” she trembled. “Slow, Marvin...please...” The curtain was split down the middle, two straight

edges coming together along pieces of Velcro. Tiffany must have forgotten to stick them properly after her little midnight visit to the couch, because right along the center two of the Velcro strips were undone.

“Oh Marvin,” Tiffany’s words came in a heave. “It’s too much, baby...quiet me down I can’t control it...”

Slow as a sloth I brought my eye to that crack in the curtains and peered inside the dimly lit bedroom.

It took a moment for my eye to adjust, but when it did, I saw Tiffany with Marvin’s huge hand over her

mouth. Her wild green eyes were wide and staring straight up, her heaving breasts bare over the covers and steadily rocking back and forth.

Marvin was lying beside Tiffany, her lithesome frame quelled against his dark body, her leg held firmly up as he

penetrated her from the side. The blankets were a mess around their waists, and I couldn’t see the penetration, but I could see the way Marvin was rocking back and forth, his powerful hips sinking into the girl of my dreams.

Tiffany moaned into his hand, and Marvin clamped her shut. Her eyes closed and her chest rose, tiny pink

nipples reaching for the sky. My eye drifted from her straining, fragile body to Marvin.

He was staring at me. He was grinning.
I froze.
With his free hand Marvin reached down to the wad of

blankets that covered their act, and he tore them away. There, buried within the stretched walls of Tiffany’s

pink cunt, was a piece of throbbing ebony meat nearly the size of a two-liter bottle. Marvin’s body was turned ever so slightly to the side as he took her, his great sagging ballsack hanging down his thigh as his hips drove in and out of her slow and measured. With one hand still tight over Tiffany’s moaning mouth, he used the other to grope her heaving tits greedy and chaotic.

And he never stopped looking at me. “MMMMMMM,” Tiffany into the palm of his hand. “Shhhh,” he whispered, licking at her earlobe. “Don’t

wake the boy...shhhh...”
Tiffany pushed her hips back, clamoring for more

despite the fact that it looked as if she physically wasn’t capable of it. Yet somehow another inch disappeared inside her, and the slosh of her cunt became audible as he rocked her body.

“MMMMM!!!!!” Tiff’s voice changed. She was cumming. I knew it. Marvin knew it. And that’s when he

took his hand off of her mouth. “OOOOOOOHHHHH!” she let loose, body convulsing in his arms.

I thought to myself in that moment that some part of Tiffany must have still cared about me, about my feelings.

Why else would she try so hard to stay quiet? Even as it

ran through her body she tried not to scream, visibly struggled not to wail like a rooster at dawn.

“OO-OH! OO-OH!” she gasped, bucking her hips. Marvin’s thrusts came constant and deep, feeding her.

“OO-OH! OO-OH!” When at last she collapsed with the black giant still buried deep, she turned her head to the side and kissed him. They made out there in my bed, holding each other, doing something that looked shockingly like making love.

As Tiffany’s orgasm subsided so did my delirium. The gravity of the situation came slamming home and I found myself backing up, one step at a time, sick to my stomach

but wildly erect...the perfect combination of desperate confusion I’d felt since day one was now spotlighted in the dark depraved depths of that luxury van.

I found the side door, threw it wide, and fell out into the early morning light.

Back in the van I heard him grunt, and then the sharp sound of Tiffany’s erratic voice.

“On my tits, Marvin,” she begged. “All over my tits baby...yes...just like that...fuck it’s so much...oooohhhh

Marvin...”
I walked off, not sure if I was coming back.

8.
“Where are my clothes?” I asked, staring

dumbfounded at the empty drawers that once held my things.

“I sort of spilled something on them, Sam. I’m sorry.” “What did you spill?”
“Wine?”
“How did you spill wine inside a dresser drawer,

Tiffany?”
She shrugged at me, her face very much like a toddler

whose been caught doing something they shouldn’t be. We were in Texas, only another few hundred miles until Louisiana. Until Marvin was gone.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Tiffany said, taking my hand. “You saw Marvin and I...”

I was too embarrassed to answer.

“He told me you saw us...” she bit her bottom lip, weighing her next words carefully. “It didn’t mean

anything, Sam. You have to know that. Sometimes things just happen...”

I looked at the ceiling. “Can we just talk about all this once Marvin’s gone?”

Tiffany nodded.
“What am I going to wear?” I asked her. “All I’ve got

are these stupid pajamas...”
“Maybe Marvin has something you can wear...”

“Marvin is a lot bigger than me -
The words hurt leaving my lips. I swallowed them, staring at my feet. I couldn’t bear to look at Tiffany just

then, terrified she might be concealing a grin.
“His clothes won’t fit,” I corrected myself. “We’ll need

to stop at a store or something.”

“Long way away from those,” she said. “Middle of nowhere Texas is no joke, Sammy.”

We were parked at a car wash, and the steady drum of the hose along the side of the van was like constant

thunder. Marvin had offered to go out and wash the vehicle, which was odd considering how bossy he’d been towards me since moving in - barking orders as if it were his van, having me refill the water tank or restock on groceries. The list went on.

“Just go outside and ask if he has anything you could wear,” Tiffany implored. “I know this is weird for you,

Sam...but it’s almost over.”
As I stood to leave the bedroom, I noticed something

tucked away along the corner of the bed. Wadded up clothes streaked with a white dried mess. Amongst those shirts and shorts I recognized an article of mine.

“Doesn’t look like wine,” I nodded to the pile. “Doesn’t look like wine at all.”

Tiffany gave me an apologetic look.
I stepped outside in my pajamas, into the garage bay

that was the carwash. Marvin was hosing the back of the van down dressed in no more than a pair of gym shorts. When I rounded the vehicle, he stopped the hose.

“Nice jammies,” he quipped. “Sorry about your clothes, by the way. Couldn’t reach a towel and well, you

know how it is. Girls don’t like just sitting in cum. So I grabbed whatever was closest.” He chuckled, turned the hose back on, and continued spraying down the vehicle. The spray off the bumper misted my body and I shivered.

“Do you have anything I can wear?” I said tight-lipped, ignoring his jab.

Marvin grinned and eased up on the water once more. “Sure I do, little guy. I’ve got just the thing, actually. Why

don’t you wait right here, and I’ll see what I’ve got.” Marvin moved like he was going to hang the long

washing hose up on the bay wall, but just before he did it the nozzle turned on me and a blinding jet of freezing water shot straight into my chest.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” I screeched, putting hands up to shield myself but only getting more soaked in the process.

The water kept coming, dousing my face and hair and torso, then moving down to my crotch and legs the more I tried backing up.

Finally I got behind the edge of the van, drenched. “Fuck you Marvin!” I yelled, hiding behind the front

bumper. “This is bullshit!”

Marvin cackled. “Just giving you a little shower, buddy. You’re starting to smell funny. Ain’t anybody tell

you how important hygiene is out on the road?”
My body shivered in the early morning, the freezing

water cascading down my body. My pajamas were soaked through.

“I’ll just go grab that change of clothes for you,” he said. “Wait out here. Can’t have you dripping soapy water

all over that nice new van floor now, can we?”
I heard the van door slide open, then slide shut.

A moment later, the door opened again.
“Got your clothes, little buddy,” I heard Marvin say.

“Come right on over and get em’.”
I sauntered out, shoulders hunched, pajamas sticking

wet to my body.

Marvin extended an arm out, clothes clutched in his hand.

“What’s that?” I asked, confused.
“Clothes, dumbass,” he grinned. “What’s it look like?” Dangling from his fingers was a pink and

white-striped bikini top. I recognized it from one of Tiffany’s posts a year or so back when she was in the Bahamas. With it was a matching bottom - a thong, with bowties on the seams.

“Very funny, Marvin,” I stuttered. “But I’m fucking freezing. If you don’t have any clothes for me, can you at

least get me a towel?”
Marvin shook his head. “A towel would have been nice

when I covered Tiffany in my nut this morning. Sadly all I had was your clothes. I can go get those for you if you

want? Might be a little, um, sticky, but I’m sure they still fit.”

I glared at him.
“Or you can put this on,” he stepped forward and

shoved me in the chest with the bikini clutched in his fist. “I’ll make you a deal, rook. You put this on long enough for us to get to a laundromat and I’ll wash your clothes myself. How’s that sound?”

“Uh-uh,” I shook my head fervently. “No deal. I’m not wearing that.”

Marvin’s eyes grew dark. He turned his head to the van, and I realized that Tiffany was watching us out of the

back window. Her phone was in her hand.
“You can put it on yourself,” he grumbled, “or I can

put it on for you. Now, your friend Tiffany is a curious type, Sammy. Trust me. And if I know her half as well as I

think I do, she’s going to watch either way. It’s up to you just how bad you want this to get.”

He thrust the bikini into my arms.
“Now dress.”
With a shuddered breath I took Tiffany’s swimsuit

and backed away from the intimidating giant. I looked at the redheaded girl of my dreams staring out the back van window. She mouthed two words to me - it’s OK.

I began to undress.
“Tiffany tells me you’ve got a big fat ass for man,

Sam,” Marvin crossed arms over his naked chest and taunted me. “Those bottoms should fit perfect in that case...though, they might be a little big up top. Hard to believe Tiffany’s tits are natural, huh? So big. So perfect. Honestly, I didn’t even need breakfast after feasting on those things this morning.”

I tried to ignore him as I tossed my soaked pajama shirt to the ground. I turned my back to him and started to

inch the pants off.
“Uh-uh, wimp,” he said. “Back the other way. Let’s see

it. Not like we haven’t already.” I hesitated.

“Don’t make me, make you.”
I turned back to him, to the van. To Tiffany. “Hold on hold on,” Marvin guffawed. “It’s even

smaller than I remember! Too much fucking hair if you ask me, little guy. Why do that to yourself? You need every advantage you can get. Tell you what - stay just like that, I got something for you.”

I moved to cover myself.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he barked, walking back

inside the van. “Stay just like that!”

Standing there naked and shivering in a Texas carwash, I forced my arms to my side. Tiffany was staring at me out of the back window, and I couldn’t tell what she

was thinking. There was something off putting about the way she held her phone in her hand, that tiny black eye on the back so threatening.

Marvin reappeared with an electric razor in his hand. He tossed it to me, and I caught it.

“Shave it,” he said. “All of it.”
“Here?”
“You think Tiffany wants her bikini back with all your

gross little pubis in it, boy?” Marvin stepped forward, so domineering, so demanding. “Shave it. Now.”

I flicked the razor on and brought it cautiously to my groin. Large tufts of curly black pubic hair began to fall to

the bay floor, and Marvin used the hose to wash the thousands of strands off my feet and down the drain.

“That’s it little guy,” he laughed. “We’ll add an inch or two easy with a little trim. Keep it up!”

The razor eliminated weeks of overgrowth until my entire groin was bare and bald, balls and all.

“Now look at that,” he laughed openly. “I mean just look at it!”

I did. In a way it felt like I hadn’t seen myself in weeks. My three inches dangled shriveled and crooked atop a tiny ballsack. Somehow the thin shaft appeared

thicker than my pink mushroom tip, creating some overall awkward illusion of a penis so small and emasculated that it couldn’t decide which part of it was more pathetic.

Feeling Tiffany’s eyes burning at my groin, I found myself more than ready to put the bikini on. To cover

myself and save some face.
Then the hose was blasting me again - my dick and

balls, everywhere I’d just shaved.
I squealed as he laughed. “Gotta make sure you’re nice

and clean buddy boy! No random hairs!”
When he at last shut the hose off, my penis had made

its way to final form. A lifeless limp bug, about the size of a pencil eraser.

“Well go on then, boy,” he urged. “Put it on already. We’ve gotta hit the road, after all.”

I took the bikini bottoms first, eager to hide myself from Tiffany and wondering how on earth any of this

would be reparable after Marvin left. They slid on easy at

the front but having never worn a thong before, I grimaced uneasily when the string ran along the crack of my ass. “Now the top,” Marvin aimed the hose at me like a

gun.
I slid my arms through the straps and clumsily

hooked it in the center of my back. I adjusted the chest, so wide and open and full. A place for heavy melons like Tiffany’s - not my flat bird-chest.

“And voila,” Marvin said. “A shower, a shave, and a fresh change of clothes. You must feel like a new man,

Sam.”
“Is that it?” I said, red in the face, no longer able to

even look in Tiffany’s direction. “Can we go now?” Marvin dropped the hose on the garage bay floor.

“One last thing, sissy boy,” he said. “Wait here.” “I’m tired of waiting,” I called after him. “I’m cold.”

The van door slammed shut. I waited. The minutes passed. I stared down at my bikini-clad body, shaking my

head, wondering what wrong decisions I had made to find myself like this. Maybe it went back to that meet up in California. Or maybe it went back to Tiffany kicking me out of the bed.

But really, it all started and ended with the van. I’d sealed my fate the day I bought it. The day I gave it over to

her.
Something slammed against the back window, and I

turned my head to the sound.
There she was again, only this time her face was

pinned to the windowpane. Tiffany was open-mouthed, her breath fogging the glass...and faintly behind her I could see Marvin’s wide palm pressing into the back of her head, holding her still as he shifted behind her.

“Tiffany?” I squeaked.
“Oooohhhh,” she squealed into the window, face flat

and freckled cheeks smushed. Her tiny hands came to either side of her for leverage, like the movement from behind might send her right through the back of the van. “OOOOOHHHH!”

I stood there dripping wet in a bikini, watching the girl of my dreams get fucked inside the van.

“Look at him!” I heard Marvin’s voice from inside. “Let him know how much you like it!”

“OOOOOHHHH!”
In that moment something snapped inside me. I

didn’t bother to take the bikini off, and in my urgency, I rushed to the side of the van and gripped the handle, tugging.

No give. It was locked from the inside.

I tried the passenger door - same result.
I came back around to the rear, Tiffany’s squealing

face still pinned against the glass. I could see my reflection against her pleasure - skinny body and chubby ass, pink and white striped bikini, horror across my face. A complete joke.

“FUUUUUUCK!” she moaned.
I was helpless and there was no way out. I couldn’t

even leave the garage bay for fear of being seen by strangers. I was trapped.

“UGH! UGH! UGH! UGH!”
With each grunt and thrust, Tiffany’s head bounced of

the window. I could see his hands roaming her body, claiming her, doing everything I’d never had the heart to. My body shivered; my heart broke.

“FUUUUUCK MARVIN OH!”

The van rocked back and forth; that mighty frame that emptied my savings account. Their moans and grunts

came within for a long time, and my shame became so red hot that I ceased to be cold, ceased to feel, living and suffering only in that moment.

Tiffany’s glassy green eyes met mine. The phone was still in her hand. They stared at me together.

Then he was off of her, hunching awkwardly in the window and keeping her face still as he unloaded across

her perfect features. Ropes of white cum plastered her face and Tiffany’s red little tongue lapped at it like a puppy to milk.

My knees grew weak, and I had to sit down on the wet floor.

Tiffany turned her face to mine, Marvin’s fresh nut dripping from it in droves. She mouthed two more words -

I’m sorry.
The van turned on suddenly, and I heard the

transmission shift.
I watched as my van, our van, began to pull out of the

garage bay. I rose to my feet, following them, following Tiffany’s glazed face as it peered out of the back window.

And then they were gone. Out of sight. And I was alone.

9.
You have a lot of time to think when you’re

hitchhiking down a deserted Texas highway dripping wet, clad in nothing more than an ill-fitted bikini that shows the entirety of your overly chubby ass.

You get honked at a lot, too.
At first it was the usual, predictable thoughts like why

me and how could she. The ladder of those two would be answered in due time, and perhaps the answer to the former was right there in there front of me. The open road and all its mystery and promise.

I’d handed it to Tiffany on a silver platter, like drugs to a junkie. She craved it. She loved it. And just how naive

did I have to be to think she wouldn’t attack the opportunity with everything in her being?

The road was Tiffany. That life suited her. It was only my own ambition and desperate desire that had blinded

me to it. Without realizing it I’d strung her along by a thread, only to find myself at the end of that same piece of bait, biting at it and eventually being reeled in hook, line, and sinker.

As angry as I was at her. I couldn’t blame her. It was me who’d wrapped our lives up in a silly game by way of a

knee jerk reaction. And now I was paying the price. And now her and Marvin were God knew where,

probably having the time of their life. Eventually I was picked up by a truck driver who

called herself Big Red, which was funny because of the striking resemblance she bore to Tiffany. Their bodies were similar, their hair, too. Red was a little rougher around the edges, but just as beautiful. The entire drive

into Houston she spoke to me like she knew me, and that comforted me a great deal.

She even bought me some fresh clothes at a truck stop and dropped me off at the airport.

When I got back to Taker’s Mills, I was a different man. The town seemed different as well, smaller than I

remembered. Quieter without Tiff.
I hadn’t heard from her in a week when I turned on the local news, still undecided as to what to do about my

missing van. Marvin had basically stolen it from me, though under the eyes of the law even that was questionable. Tiffany owned half, and she had the paperwork to prove it.

And tonight we have an update on a local celebrity gone viral yet again. That’s right folks, Tiffany Shylock of Taker’s Mills Indiana is back out on the road and causing

a veritable storm of views for her YouTube and Patreon pages alike. Here’s Mark Summers with more...

I coughed up the beer I was drinking and turned up the volume.

B-roll of Tiffany, giving the news cameraman a tour of her van. Our van.

Once stranded with her future in jeopardy, Tiffany Shylock bounced back from the edge of financial ruin to

revive an ailing content empire. The local legend has recently hit 5 million followers on her YouTube page, and some of her more controversial videos are at well over 10 million views. Some say she stands to make 3 million dollars this month ALONE...

In spite of everything, I smiled when Tiffany came on screen, speaking into the microphone, as perky and bubbly

as ever.

“It’s kind of crazy how fast it happened,” she said, batting those dazzling eyes at the camera. “My last van, my

first love, went out on me...with the help of some friends I was able to get back on my feet. Well, one friend in particular really.”

A tear came to the corner of my eye.
“Sam if you’re out there watching - thank you. For

everything.”

Tiffany says her next stop is Alaska, and that she’ll be getting there by way of Canada. It’s her first time leaving

the lower 48, so she’s joining a caravan to help make it there safely. When asked about some of the riskier nature of her content, Tiffany is of the mind that pushing boundaries can result in...

I didn’t catch the rest. I muted the television and grabbed my laptop. As I navigated over to YouTube it

donned on me that not once in weeks of travel with her, through the countless instances of watching her film and take selfies, had I checked up on her socials. Not Instagram, not TikTok, not YouTube, not Patreon. I chuckled at the absurdity of it - how blind I’d been to anything that wasn’t Tiffany in the flesh.

In the one month I’d spent with her on the road she’d more than quadrupled her online following and posted over ten new videos. A series entitled - Friend Zone on

Wheels - was at the top of the view count. I clicked on Part 1.

“Hi Guys!” Tiffany said, cheery as ever as she spoke to the camera from the driver’s seat of the new van. “As you

may have heard from my Instagram page a friend of mine came into some money and has been kind enough to hook

me up with this brand-new traveling van! Let’s take a tour, shall we?”

I skipped ahead.
And there I was. In line at the grocery store, the day

she’d walked into my life - or I into hers.
“I met this very sweet boy at the store the other day,”

Tiffany’s voice played over the incognito clip of me buying her groceries. “He seemed pretty intent on helping me out, so I let him take me to dinner...”

Cut to a clip of the two of us at the Italian restaurant, my neatly parted hair all slicked back as I ate chicken

parmesan.
“He was very, very sweet to me, and for the life of me

I just couldn’t figure out why!”

The video cut briefly to Tiffany in a bra and panties, bouncing on her feet, breasts jiggling madly. Then another

quick cut -
The van in her driveway.

“I had no idea he was going to surprise me with this, but I’d be crazy to turn it down! So after a little

convincing...I took the nice boy out on the road with me!” I slammed the space bar and paused the video. My

heart rate was through the roof.
“You clever bitch,” I shook my head, the gravity of it

all sinking in. “You clever fucking girl!”
I started skimming through the videos, all ten of

them, and alongside that I pulled her Instagram up on my phone. It was all there, every major moment of our month on the road together. Some of it I remembered - like the

videos from the passenger seat when we were driving through Colorado, or the rainbow we saw in Utah.

But some of it I’d never seen. And judging from the camera angle, it was things I was never meant to see.

Me cleaning the van up while she tanned outside. Me pumping gas while she said what a “good boy” I was. There was even a video of her showering, breasts blurred out and

talking to her fans. Surely, I was the one driving the van during that one.

“Be sure to check in on my OnlyFans for the parts of our adventure that were too hot for YouTube and

Instagram!”
I frowned. I had to know.

Ten minutes later I was a subscriber, paying twenty dollars just to see the awful things I’d lived through.

And it was all there.

Tiffany denying me in the dark of her old van that night in the driveway.

My face between her thighs as she clutched the back of my head and stared directly at the hidden camera in the

light above her. That one had a caption - Letting the Simp Taste Me.

Another video showed her and Marvin in bed together the night they’d met, Tiffany in those sexy overalls and

Marvin in nothing more than those same blue jeans. She put her finger over her mouth and winked at the camera.

Then she pulled his heavy, untamed cock from his jeans and sucked it.

“When I was passed out at the fire,” I said to no one. “Drunk and helpless...jesus...”

The same video showed Tiffany walking out into the living area and stroking me off under the covers and

returning back to Marvin.
The voice-over made her intentions clear. “Can’t

forget about the Simp when he’s the one paying the bills. Take note ladies!”

And despite all the cruelty of it, I knew it wasn’t her. The Tiffany talking to the camera, the one doing those

cutting voice overs, that was just a persona. Something she did for views, to rile her audience up. It wasn’t the Tiffany I knew. And somehow, it softened the sting of it all.

I came to another video. It was a slideshow of pictures. From the Grand Canyon.

The pictures started normal enough, the three of us at the overlook with the canyon behind us. Then came the one where Marvin had me by the waist, followed by my

small white dick protruding from a thick bush of pubes. Tiffany and Marvin laughing. And the last one, the one etched in my mind forever - Tiffany pointing and laughing at me as I lay on the ground, naked from the waist down, pale as a ghost.

The video had over 2 million views.
I clicked through to the last video, and there it was.

Through a van window, staring out into a dilapidated car wash - Marvin hosing me down, forcing me to shave, forcing me to dress.

And one final shot, almost artistic in its POV - through the sideview mirror, my naked body clad in a pink bikini

running after the van as it drove away. And then it panned right, and there’s Tiffany. Topless, dripping with Marvin’s seed, laughing hysterically.

I shut the laptop.

Inexplicably, I began to giggle. And that turned into a chuckle, and that to hearty laughter. Before I knew it, I

could barely breathe. Gales of it swallowed me whole, my body shaking while tears of joy ran down my face.

It was all too brilliant to be angry at. Too perfect in its cyclical irony.

I’d used Tiffany to try and get what I wanted. And she’d seen it from the start. And then, right under my

nose, she’d done the very same thing to me. And I couldn’t see it until right then, that very night alone in my living room scrolling through every picture and humiliating video.

Sam if you’re out there watching - thank you. For everything...

“Thank you, Tiff,” I said, scrolling over to the video of Marvin fucking her in the van bed. “Thank you for the time

of my fucking life.”
I pulled my throbbing erection out and got to work,

watching Marvin Moorhead smile as he clamped a hand over Tiffany’s moaning mouth. One day, Tiffany would come back to Taker’s Mills. And the first thing she’d do is find me and we’d catch up like old friends. No ill will and no lingering grudges.

But that is a tale for another time.

- THE END