Brad's Road Trip Ch. 12

Note: This is the 12th chapter in what will be a fairly long series. If you haven't read Chapters 1-11, this section won't make any sense. I mean, the sex scenes will mostly stand alone, but there's a pretty significant back-story. Anyway, thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated! Special thanks to AnInsatiableReader for helping me clean it up.

As it's been more than a year since I posted on this series, I've included a brief recap of the events up to this point, near the beginning of the story. If you're new to the series and don't want to go back and read the earlier chapters, the recap will provide a very basic nutshell (though you should go back and read)! For those who are caught up, it'll provide a little memory jogger since it's been a while.

Anyway... enjoy!!



Day 11
Sunday, June 22
Evansville, IN

I'd been looking forward to this confrontation for a while.

I woke up at 9 a.m. with no plans until after noon. So, I grabbed a blue Braves T-shirt and gray workout shorts out of my duffel bag and suited up.

I hadn't been on a good long run since Wednesday morning in Charleston. Oh, I'd had plenty of exercise since then -- first that evening in Sumter with Amber and Tracy, then Thursday night in Pittsburgh with Maria, and then the all-night marathon on Friday, which spilled into Saturday morning.

Running was different. Most Marines learn to hate PT for the sake of PT. Put us on a fake battlefield for simulated war games, give us an obstacle course to navigate, or put us on opposite sides of a field with a football in between, and we'll sweat for hours. But working out just to work out wasn't something most of us embraced. I hadn't either, except when it came to running.

I knew it had major positive benefits physically, and yes, I loved getting that 'runner's high' boost of adrenaline and endorphins. But more than that, running gave me time to get refocused on life and clear my brain. It gave me time to argue with myself, and right now, a major showdown was brewing.

The pretty brunette at the front desk told me about a high school with a track just down the road, so I jogged to it. I did a little stretching, fired up a playlist full of Saliva, and finally started my run.

Before I could do any serious soul-searching, I took a few minutes to replay the events of the past few days. Just 10 days ago, I was leaving San Antonio, Texas, embarking on a road trip that would signify my transition from active duty Marine to private-sector civilian. It had been an epic trip so far, surpassing all my wildest fantasies with a week more still to go.

My first stop had been Tulsa, Oklahoma, for a country music festival. Besides three straight days of great music, I'd had sex with three girls and fooled around with a couple others. I'd been the meat in a lesbian sandwich, and I'd slept with the hottest redhead I'd ever met, right before hooking her up with a guy she should have been with for a long time.

Next was Pensacola, Florida, to hang out with my best friend for a couple days. On the way, I'd offered a ride to a pretty stranger and was rewarded with a show (starring her favorite blue vibrator) followed by a mind-numbing blowjob. Once in Florida, I'd watched a minor league baseball player hit four grand slams in a single game. Later that night, I was in a foursome with my best friend, his girlfriend, and a girl I'd picked up at a bar.

My next stop was in Charleston, South Carolina, where I'd turned an obnoxious, loudmouth blonde into my sex slave for the night. A few miles up the road in Sumter, I'd had a threesome with two girls I met at a bar. One of them was a cousin I hadn't seen in more than 12 years, a fact we'd thankfully figured out right before we crossed the line.

In Pittsburgh, I'd watched a Pirates game and made a bet with a friend -- a bet he won by tricking his girlfriend into fucking me. The following night in Indianapolis, I engaged in an epic 13-person orgy with a bunch of people I met at a Brooks