Sixteen-year-old Hitchhiker
Copyright© 2026 by Kathleen Simpson
Chapter 6
Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 6 - Cindy Taylor is sixteen years old. Having lived all her life in a small Missouri town, she is drawn by the lure of excitement to Los Angeles. Innocent and naive at the time of leaving home, she soon learns what it will take for her to get along.
Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Coercion Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Rape BiSexual Fiction Group Sex Anal Sex First Oral Sex Prostitution
It was almost three in the morning before Cindy’s lust was quenched. Finally, she could climax no more. The fires in her body were stilled. The high that had been raging inside her was gone. And now, as she looked at Pete, still on the floor, her fear returned.
“Rip, I’m scared,” she whispered, afraid that some unseen person would hear her.
“Shit, now don’t start that all over again. I told you what we would do.”
“When are you going to do it?”
“Another hour, maybe.”
The hour that Pete continued to sit there was an eternity for Cindy. She didn’t want to look at him, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from straying in his direction. It was as if she were being drawn by some power to look. To look at what she had caused.
“Please Rip. Take him out now. I can’t stand it anymore.”
Getting up from the couch, Rip walked wordlessly over to the window. Pulling aside the curtains, he peered out. The street was dark and empty. Now was as good a time as any.
“Are you going to do it now, Rip?” Cindy asked.
“Yeah,” was all he said.
Cindy watched as he walked over to Pete and picked up his body. Fireman style, he carried him over his shoulder and walked to the front door.
“Open the door for me,” he said, looking to Cindy.
Getting up from the couch, she padded over to the front door and opened it for him. Closing it after he had walked out, she went over to the window and parted the curtains, watching as he carried the body over to the side of the building. A moment later, he was running back across the lawn. Cindy quickly opened the door and let him into the apartment.
“There, that’s all taken care of. Now all we have to do is stick to the story.” Rip was trying to catch his breath.
“You mean, that he was here and he left?”
“Right. Let’s say he left around eleven. You got that?”
“Eleven o’clock,” Cindy said. “I just hope it ends soon. What the hell happened anyway?”
“I don’t know.” Rip shook his head, trying to clear it. “Nothing like that’s ever happened to me before.”
“Well, let’s just try and forget about it, and get some sleep.”
“Yeah, that would be the best thing,” Rip agreed.
Together, they walked into the bedroom, undressed and within minutes, were asleep. It was almost five o’clock.
The pounding on the door was shattering its way into Cindy’s head. Climbing out of bed, she walked into the living room. The pounding continued.
“Who is it?” she asked, still groggy from sleep.
“The police.”
Cindy snapped awake. “Just a second. I’m not dressed.”
“All right.”
Walking back into the bedroom, Cindy quickly dressed. Rip was sitting up in bed.
“Who is it?”
“The police,” Cindy said, walking back into the living room. Opening the front door, Cindy looked at the two men standing outside.
“Yes?”
“Would it be all right if we came in?”
“Uh, yes, I guess so. What’s this all about?”
“To be perfectly frank, Miss, uh-”
“Cindy. Cindy Taylor.” She realized too late that she had given her real name, and that they probably had her on some sort of hot sheet for runaways.
“As I was saying, Miss Taylor, a body was found beside your building this morning. A young man named Pete. We understand that you knew him.”
“I did?” Cindy asked.
“At least he was seen with you and your boyfriend last night.”
“Oh, yes, Pete. He was here with us. That’s right.” Inside her chest, her heart was pounding like a triphammer.
“You say he was here. How late did he stay?”
“Oh, until about eleven, I guess.”
“Are you sure it couldn’t have been a little earlier?”
“Maybe.”
“How about a little later?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so. Why are you doing this? I said he was here and that he left around eleven. What more do you want?”
“No more. That will be all for now. You will be staying in town, won’t you?”
“Yes, of course I will.”
“Good. We’ll talk again later.”
After they had left, Cindy collapsed on the couch. Why didn’t she just tell them the truth about what happened? After all, it was Rip who did it, not her. How could she have gotten into such a mess?
“Say, you did all right,” Rip said. He was standing beside her now.
“Oh, Rip, can’t we just leave? I’m so afraid.”
“Listen, we got to stick it out. If we split now, it’ll be a tip-off. All they know is they’ve got his body. That’s all. Now relax!”
“I’ll try. But I’ve never been involved in anything like this.”
“You think I have?”
From then on, life became unbearable for Cindy. She had visions of landing in jail for the rest of her life for something that she didn’t do. She also knew that she couldn’t just hang tight. The police had her real name. She was sure they would check it and find that she was a runaway. At best, they would pack her back to Pleasant Hills. She just couldn’t let that happen.
Later that day, when Rip had gone out, Cindy threw her few belongings into a duffel bag and left the apartment. On a freeway, she stood with her thumb out. Her only thought was of getting out of Los Angeles as quickly as she could.
It was a few minutes before a car pulled to a stop beside her.
“Where are you going, honey?”
“San Francisco.”
“I can take you as far as Santa Barbara if you like.”
“That’ll be fine, thanks.”
Speeding at seventy miles per hour down the freeway, Cindy felt herself beginning to relax. She wondered what Rip would do when he found she had left. It was only a fleeting thought.
“What’s your name?”
“Tammy,” Cindy said quickly.
“Well, Tammy, I’m Frank.”
“Glad to meet you. And thanks for the lift.”
“That’s all right. Don’t even mention it. Glad to be able to help out.”
“Well, thanks anyway.”
“You live in Frisco?” Frank asked, trying to make conversation.
“I guess I will be. I’m getting a little tired of L.A.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. That’s why I live in Santa Barbara. It’s a quiet town, but still close enough to L.A. for when I feel like a little excitement.”
“Yeah, I know. What do you do?”
“For a living, you mean? I’m a salesman. Advertising displays. I travel the western states, like California, Oregon, Washington, Nevada, and Arizona.”
“Do you like it?”
“Oh, it’s interesting. Keeps me on the move, if nothing else.”
“I think I’d like that,” Cindy said smiling. “Always traveling around. Seeing different places and people. Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
“Well, it’s not all that great. Half the time you’re living in strange cities, out of suitcases. And you don’t know anyone.”
“But I still think I would like it.”
“Where are you from?” Frank asked.
“Missouri.”
“Kansas City?”
“Close to it.”
“How long have you been out here?”
“Oh, close to a year now,” Cindy said, stretching it a bit.
“Been to Frisco before?”
“No, this will be my first time.”
“You should like it. Nice weather this time of year. It gets a little cold in the winter, though.”
“You’re forgetting, it snows where I come from.”
“Yeah, that’s true. It’s always so warm in L.A. I always think of forty degrees as cold. Still, it gets pretty windy up there.”
“How far is it from L.A.?”
“San Francisco? Oh, about four hundred miles. You should make it all the way before it gets too late.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be out by myself at midnight.”
“Oh, you’ll make it before then, easy.”
The miles whisked by as the conversation continued. Soon, the two-hour driving time to Santa Barbara had passed, and Frank was pulling off onto the shoulder.
“I’ll be turning off at the next exit. I’ll leave you here, and you shouldn’t have any trouble getting another ride.”
“Thanks, Frank. Take it easy, huh?” Grabbing her duffel bag, Cindy got out of the car and slammed the door shut. In the coolness of late afternoon, she watched as the station wagon sped back onto the road.
It was beginning to get cold, and she wondered how long it would be before someone stopped. She had been standing at the spot where she had been let off for almost an hour, and twilight was beginning to set in. Licking her lips, she hoped for a ride soon.
Ten minutes later, someone stopped.
“Where are you headed?”
“San Francisco.”
“Hop in.”
Picking up her duffel bag from the side of the road, Cindy got into the car.
“San Francisco, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s a cute little chick like you doing traveling all by herself?”
“Why not?” Cindy asked the driver, a guy in his late thirties.
“Well, all kinds of things can happen to a chick when she’s alone. Don’t you read the papers?”
“I can take care of myself,” Cindy said, trying to sound tough.
“Yeah, that’s what they all say, until the time comes when they have to.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Nothing! Just trying to make conversation, that’s all. You worried?”
“Should I be?”
“That all depends. You fuck?”
“What?” Cindy gasped.
“You heard me. I asked if you fucked.” As he spoke, he reached over and pressed his hand to her thigh, slowly inching up her crotch.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Cindy said, trying to stay calm and hoping that would be all he wanted.
“What do you mean you guess so? Either you do or you don’t.”
“All right, I fuck. What of it?”
“Tell me about it. You like big cocks or little cocks?”
Cindy could see him smiling in the darkness, as he questioned her.
“I just like cocks. I never really thought about size.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” said Cindy, biting her lip.
“You know, I like you, honey. You like to suck them?”