The Battered Lamp Chapter Fifteen: The Wish of the Warrior - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Fifteen: The Wish of the Warrior

... muttered to herself. Even with her supernatural resistance to the cold, she was feeling it every time a car barreled by. “Why won't anyone stop! I'm a cute, schoolgirl! Where are all the perverts at?” A large truck barreled by, her coat flapping around her at she could feel the whipped up snow wetting the back of her pants. Dirty, gray snow that you see on the sides of road. She adjusted her backpack, sighing in frustration. “Not even the truckers want a piece of me!” she moaned. A beat-up, old Toyota pick-up truck screeched to a halt, a rough looking man, his graying hair standing out against his dark-tan skin, peered at her through his passenger window. He leaned over, rolling it down. “Where are you headed, little girl?” “Kamifurano,” Fumi answered. “I need to get to Mount Asashi.” That's where the Yukishojou-no-onsen lay, the hot spring that the spirit Nisqualmie had sent her to. Fumi hoped that the springs would somehow allow her and Kyle to be fully intimate without her love dieing in her embrace. “I can take you as far as Shikauchi.” Her face fell. That's only halfway there, if I'm remembering this part of Hokkaido right. Fumi eyed him. He was old, but still in great shape. A farmer, she bet, still with his strength, not some flabby, Tokyo businessman. Her hungers stirred. It had been a few hours since she ingested cum. “How about I blow you and you take me all the way?” His eyes widened slightly then they ran up and down her. “My wife will be wondering what took so ...

... long. I'll still take you as far as Shikauchi.” Her hunger grew more insistent and she could smell her lily-scented lust through the layers of clothing she wore, filling the air with her pheromones. She moved closer to the window, letting him get a deep whiff. “Are you sure you can't take me?” He swallowed, his hands squeezing the steering wheel. “I can't,” he groaned. “Maybe this was a mistake. My wife will...” Fumi's hungers were not about to be denied. “You can fuck my ass.” He swallowed. “Tokyo girl,” he groaned. “Compensation dating?” “Sure,” Fumi smiled. She had made some money the six months she had lived in Tokyo dating businessmen—that had been after Shiro had died and her family had moved from Hokkaido. The perverts in Tokyo loved to pay young girls to date them. And they loved her blowjobs. “What do you say, farmer-san.” “Yushiro,” he said. “I'm pleased to meet you, Yushiro-san. I'm Fumi.” “Well, Fumi-tan, where should we...?” “Right here,” she smiled. “Come and get me.” He swallowed, licking his lips. His cock tented his worn denims. She leaned on the hood of his truck, delighting in the engine's warmth. The door creaked open, the truck rocking as he climbed out. A car zipped by and he jumped but Fumi shot him a winsome smile, fluttering her eyelashes, and he forgot all about the passing cars as he walked around, his hands unzipping his pants. “You Tokyo girls are all sluts,” he hissed in her ear. “Not like a good, Hokkaido girl.” Fumi wanted to laugh and tell him ...