Road Angel

Road Angel

Copyright 2025 Christopher D. B.

Note from the author: This story is part three of a series. Please read the previous stories, Collateral Damage, and From the Outside, which can be found here at Literotica.

There was a time when I was hiding out, working at forest service campgrounds and living in my old Airstream trailer. I'd been off the grid for most of that time, and I'd also hoped I'd been off the radar so to speak.

After a year of that life I thought it might be okay to slip quietly back into civilization and landed in a small city just off the interstate. It had some tourist attractions so you might know the place, but otherwise it was kind of run down. I'd managed to find some handyman work and had recently been putting in some late hours renovating motel rooms.

Coming home after dark, I pulled into the little trailer court where I lived. It was located next to this cluster of billboards that could be seen from the highway. I'll admit it was sleazy looking, and while I'm sure that the billboards are still there, the old trailers were probably hauled off to the dump years ago so don't bother trying to look for the place.

My Airstream had a crooked wooden deck outside the front door, abandoned by a previous tenant, and as I pulled up I could see that someone was sleeping in my lounge chair under the overhead glow of the billboard lighting.

It was Road Angel. Curled up into a ball, the hood of her sweatshirt drawn down tight, and hands pulled up in her sleeves. She didn't move until I gently touched her shoulder, and then acted as if she was waking up. Maybe she had been sleeping, but I was pretty sure the diesel clatter of my F250 had wakened her as I drove up.

We had met shortly after I moved to this town. I had picked her up when she was hitchhiking. Although she said she was heading into the center of town, when we got to the trailer court entrance I told her that was as far as I would take her. To my surprise she asked if she could have a glass of bourbon.

Well, I had a bottle of Old Crow at my place so I invited her in. My dog took a liking to her, which was a rare thing. After a few drinks one thing led to another, wrapping up in the little rounded bedroom at the back of my trailer. I did end up giving her a ride to the center of town afterwards, but you probably figured that.

She made her money by the fountain in the town square. Telling fortunes, reading tarot cards, that sort of thing. The cops didn't tolerate homeless or begging or anything like that, but if someone was a street musician, caricature artist, fortune teller, or did other harmless stuff to scrounge a few bucks off the tourists that was okay.

Road Angel. The name always made me think of some CB handle a chick might have back in the day. She never told me what her real name was, or where she lived, and I never bothered to ask. I was never sure if she was a local or had just drifted into town like I did. Not exactly a friend with benefits, more of an acquaintance with benefits. About once a month our paths would cross and we would end up back at my trailer, and in bed, which was fine with me at the time.

She might have been a few years younger than me, always dressed in loose fitting, unflattering clothes, and big heavy combat boots. Her shoulder length hair was dyed jet black and always had some random streak of color in it. The color this evening was an electric blue.

As usual, Chewbecca was happy to see her. My retired junkyard dog, a chow, mastiff, shepherd, wooly mammoth mix.

"I see you're walking with a limp. Maybe had some trouble?" I asked, thinking that she might need a place to stay for the night.

"I jumped a month back in time. That's tough on my body but I'll be fine. I just came to say goodbye," she said with an irritated tone. So I asked her where she was going. "It's not me. You left town without saying goodbye."

Road Angel explained that she dropped by to visit and my trailer was gone. A neighbor across the street said that I had left town for a better paying job. She had come back to a time when I was still in town, my present time, so she could say goodbye.

She had told me before that she could travel through time on a limited basis but tried to avoid it because it was bad for her health. Also said she was a psychic and could do other stuff but I assumed it was just for show to go along with her hustle on the town square.

"I wasn't planning on skipping town," I told her. Then said I was starving and was going to heat up some leftovers. Of course I made enough for both of us. After we finished eating I poured some bourbon and we sat together on the sofa.

As we'd been talking I had placed a hand gently on one of her thighs. She was wearing some old baggy black denim pants that were soft to the touch after a thousand washes and fading into a dark shade of gray. I eased over so one of my shoulders pressed against hers.

Road Angel sipped the last of her drink, and as she reached out to set her empty glass on the table I leaned over to kiss her. At first, my advance didn't seem welcome, but then I felt her arms gently circling my waist. Our kisses became more intense. Mouths open, tongues gently probing, intertwining.

Then I heard a low woof sound, like a cough. It was Chewbecca. She had to go out and her timing couldn't have been worse. Road Angel started to laugh softly as she broke off our kiss. I got up to let my old dog outside.

As I stood in the open doorway and watched Chewbecca ease her achy bones down off the deck, I saw out of a corner of my eye that Road Angel had pulled up a leg of her pants and was starting to unlace one of her heavy boots. Leaving her boots on the floor by the couch, she lightly traced the fingers of one hand across my shoulder blades as she made her way back to the bedroom.

Once Chewbecca was back inside, I saw that there was a pile of Road Angel's clothes in the hallway outside the bedroom, and in the shadows beyond she was waiting in my bed. I pulled off my t-shirt as I walked back to the bedroom. She was kneeling on the bed, wearing a sports bra and some high cut panties.

"You're beautiful," I said. "I don't know why you hide your body all the time under baggy clothes." It was true. Her figure was stunning. I leaned over and kissed her.

"I try not to attract unwanted attention," Road Angel said softly. I lowered my dirty jeans to the floor and then gently removed her sports bra, the worn elastic stretching easily. I had never seen her wear a regular bra. Leaning in, I kissed her softly and cupped one of her breasts lightly in one hand. Brushing the tip of my thumb over a nipple, I could feel it start to firm up in response.

Standing up, naked by the bed, my cock was almost fully erect. She took it lightly in one hand, and bent over to lick the underside of the shaft. I'd been frustrated with her before, always willing to lick me but would never take my cock in her mouth. This was no time to argue, so I stood there and enjoyed her warm tongue gliding gently on my flesh.

When I was firm and solid, Road Angel sat back on her heels for a moment, and then kicked her legs out towards me so I was able to grab the waist of her panties and pull them off. As I knelt beside the bed, she eased over to the edge. Her small patch of pubic hair was a light brown, and soft under my tongue.

My technique was slow and easy. Although that had gotten good results with the few other women I had been with at that point in my life, Road Angel had always been slow to respond. Once she told me that it took her a while to get properly relaxed so that she could enjoy herself. Therefore I just took my time. Easy, long, slow licks.

I had been supporting her legs with my arms and shoulders, and eventually there was a familiar shifting of her body as she settled into what must have been a more comfortable position. She exhaled deeply several times. There was always a sense of satisfaction at those moments, when you are trying to pleasure a woman for what seems like a long time and you eventually get that response.

Resisting the urge to start aggressively licking her, I kept it slow and gentle. Road Angel let out a quiet sigh, and adjusted her position at the edge of the bed just a little more. It was perfect, and I probed with my tongue a bit more quickly, and a bit more firmly.

Her hips bucked in my face one time and I felt her leg muscles tense up. She always stifled the moans of her orgasms, but tonight she let out a long deep moan of satisfaction, and her legs collapsed across my back as I finished with several light licks.

I always kept condoms in a drawer of the night stand. I think that every young man does. Out of the box and ready at moment's notice. Road Angel moved over to the center of the bed.

Normally I would like to make the moment last. Slow and easy thrusts, occasionally gently kissing her neck. On that night however, I was tired after working long hours, and my penis had been erect for a long time waiting for her orgasm, to the point I wanted my own relief as soon as possible. No, I didn't rush things. That wouldn't have been my style, but before long I was breathing heavily, and knew that I would probably cum soon.

I was surprised when Road Angel said that she wanted to get on top. I had no problem with that and quickly lay on my back. She was slow and awkward getting into position. With my cock straining, my body on the brink of orgasm, it was frustrating, agonizing.

When at last she had lowered herself on top of me, she rested both of her palms on my chest above my heart. She said something like she wanted to touch my soul. I had no idea what she meant, but since I knew I would explode any minute I wasn't going to ask any questions.

She rode my cock in slow, short movements of her hips. I felt my scrotum tightening against my body, and I grunted loudly as I had a powerful orgasm. Suddenly my mind was adrift in a heavy fog, and an old memory flashed back. No, it was so real that I might say that I actually went back in time.

I found myself on a muddy narrow lane where junk cars were stacked three and four high on either side waiting for a date with the crusher. I was ten years old and pulling a little red wagon that was loaded with a big toolbox and several parts I had pulled that morning. I thought of that part of the salvage yard as the canyon, and down at the end was a cluster of cars my Dad had been holding onto. I knew there was a 1970 Ford Galaxie 500 XL there and it was my task to pull the actuators for the hidden headlights.

Then time skipped forward to a point only a few years ago, a gray early morning outside the shop at the salvage yard. I stood there with Anna, an old friend with benefits, her frayed blonde hair looking worse in the early light. She was wearing a black leather jacket over a Harley tank top, and faded jeans tucked into her scuffed black leather boots. Anna had figured out that I was leaving town.

That vision faded and I found myself on a gravel road through the woods, the forest service camp where I'd worked not long ago. It was early evening, I was taking Chewecca for a walk and we passed the open-front Adirondack style shelter where Michelle had lived, but her pack was gone.

She was another campground worker. Cooked all of her meals in a sierra cup and had hiked all across the country. Rugged, yet feminine, in this rare quality that appealed to me. When I had gotten the nerve to ask her out, I learned that she had been seeing someone that worked at a little store in the closest town that was miles away. Another woman.

My heart had been crushed, and the woods felt so empty. I realized at that time how isolated and lonely I had been, and that I needed to come out of hiding. It may have been that loneliness that made me welcome Road Angel into my life. A quirky psychic and alleged time traveler, that I may have otherwise not gotten involved with.

I came crashing back to reality. Sexually satisfied, exhausted mentally and physically. Road Angel had collapsed on top of me, and I held her sweaty body tightly as our breathing gradually returned to a normal pace. I would have let her spend the night, as she had done in the past, but she started to get up.

"I have to leave now," she said.

Although I offered to drive her into town, she told me she had to get back to her present time, and asked for me to walk outside with her for a while. It was the sort of crazy thing she would say but I didn't question her. We quickly got dressed and she led the way through the little trailer court to the end of the gravel lane.

"You end up with that biker lady," Road Angel said, and there was a hint of jealousy in her voice.

"My friend Anna?" I asked.

"The blonde in the leather jacket," she confirmed.

Road Angel told me that when I saw Anna again, bells would be ringing, but refused to answer any more questions as she led the way underneath and beyond the billboards to a vacant lot of low weeds and rocks. Headlights of cars whooshed by on the distant highway. Road Angel stopped, turned, and gave me a kiss without her tongue.

She told me to stay where I was and walked a bit further out into the lot where she sat down on the ground facing me, arms and legs folded in some yoga style. Lowering her head, she just sat there in the faint glow of the billboards.

I gave a sigh, not sure what sort of silly thing she was doing, but then suddenly there was a brief flash of deep blue light, and a quick puff of air that rushed in to fill the empty place where she had been sitting.

It had to be an illusion. Some trick she had learned from a street magician working down by the fountain in the evenings. Walking out to where she had been there was a slight depression in the ground, bare of any rocks or weeds. That patch of earth was solid. Walking back underneath the billboards I had thought Road Angel might be hiding there, but she wasn't.

Although I wasn't convinced she had traveled through time, returned to her present or my future or whatever, a few days later I was talking with one of the guests at the motel where I was working. He told me of a job paying good money in a city that was about an hour drive from here.

The job lead sounded too good to be true so later in the day I made a phone call, and later in the week I took a day off work to drive out of town for an interview, and look for a place where I could park the Airstream if I landed the job, which I did.

It was no surprise to me that I didn't cross paths with Road Angel, nor did I think of driving to the center of town to look for her by the fountain. Maybe she would have asked to leave town with me, leave some problems behind and start fresh as I had done, though I was slowly learning that is not a real solution.

At the end of the week when I was hitching up my Airstream trailer, a neighbor across the street asked where I was going, so I told him. There was no need to tell him that a young lady might stop by looking for me. I knew that would fall into place.