In a hot hole (roadside ravishing)

Michaela gave a yelp of surprise and at the same time dropped her mobile phone into her lap. Her gut churned as she realized the next few seconds were already predestined and the only option she had left was to slam on the brakes in desperation.

Within seconds her open top Camero had come to a spinning, crunching halt.

The big grey box wagon in front of her car had crumpled the fenders and lights without even shuddering. Her car had bounced to one side and now its damaged nose pointed out across the sandy, cactus covered plains.

She relaxed her body the shock subsiding, her nails slowly extracting themselves from the soft steering wheel leather.

“Ugggghh shit!” She groaned rubbing her long aching neck.

The interstate had been almost deserted and she had seen the truck waiting to merge, when it had obviously miss-timed its entry and shot out in front of her. The fact she had been half watching the road and half talking on the phone made little difference to her. It had been a call to her agent; as an up and coming ad model she always needed to be pushing for that next big break.

Michaela climbed awkwardly out of her damaged soft top the desert dust swirling around her car. Her little car was drivable but in a real state. She raised her hands in disbelief always one to overact any situation.

“It’s ruined. It’s totally ruined!”

The trucker was climbing from the cab and she marched angrily towards him. As she approached the sheepish looking man she gave a glance along the trucks side.

“Oh typical!” She thought.” Just typical!”

The truck billboard had a picture of an elegant curly haired blonde. She was semi naked, the woman’s arms folded covering what Michaela knew were ample and perfect breasts. The woman’s long legs were kicked high, black stocking and heels on, advertising the companies’ latest hosiery product. It had been one of Michaela’s first big assignments, and as the man looked at her then back at the ad she nodded annoyed he’d noticed the bizarre twist of fate.

“Yes, that’s right dumbo;” she said hands on fantastic hips. That’s me up there.”

The trucker was a mid aged Mexican dressed in a blue chino shirt and dirty jeans. He fumbled with his cap apologizing sincerely, a little distracted by the tall woman who he had admired many times before while filling his truck with gas. She was still recognizable even clothed. Heeled sandals, a light blue dress, her hair still shoulder length and curly. Only in real life her blue eyes were mean and angry.

“You stupid wetback” She shouted, “I’ll have your job for this.”

The man shook his head trying to calm her.

“No, no we can sort this miss, so sorry, so sorry.”

He had been here 3 years with no problem now this woman was going crazy. He had no official documents and this bitch just wouldn’t shut up. The blonde model shook her head in total disinterest and began to stomp back to her car.

“Just one phone call mister and we’ll see how sorry you are.”

The road was still deserted both vehicles on the dirt rigged side. The afternoon heat was making a shimmering haze, no one had witnessed the accident as this stretch of long highway was ghostly sparse with traffic.

He put his hands to his head in frustration as the stunner did a quick about turn and strode with purpose back to her car.

“Now, how long will it be for the stupid local cops to get here?” She thought searching for the phone in her card foot well.

Suddenly Michaela gave her second startled shriek of the afternoon as the man pulled her waist back. He then picked her up kicking and screaming carrying her like a bride over a threshold.

“What the hell are you doing you crazy dago?” She hissed totally amazed by his actions.

Struggling he lifted the rear roller shutter of his truck pushing her inside as she tried to kick and wrestle; slamming the steel down behind her. She was in the hot dim hold of the truck, two small ceiling lights showing a virtually empty space. There were only a few boxes strewn around, the delivery obviously complete, empty racking pinned to the sides.

There she stood suddenly trapped arms folded stamping her feet in frustration.

“Boy he was really in trouble now.” She told herself.

Outside the man paced back and forth as a car sped by, getting just half interested glances from the occupants. His boss was looking for any reason to get rid of him, this would be ideal. He knew he was through here in the states, no more sending money back to his family across the border. He made his decision. Take the Camero to the border and hitch a lift with the day workers returning to Mexico. No one would check them leaving the country.

He heard Michaela banging on the side of the truck and looked up at her larger than life advertising picture.

“But one thing to do before I go,” he decided, the anger building.

The roller shutter rose slightly Michaela expecting a grovelling apology and she was already thinking how she would make him pay.