What the Truck Driver Did to His Nephew's Girlfriend

Ramón was leaning against the nose of his truck, a metal behemoth creaking under a heat that already announced summer. His shirt was open to his navel and the hair on his chest gleamed with sweat, as if it had been varnished. He was finishing a cigarette and the smoke rose lazily, tracing spirals from the glowing tip, that red ember that seemed to be the only living eye in that wasteland of concrete and cheap gas stations.

He looked at his watch. They were late and he hated waiting. But it was family, or so his sister had told him over the phone in that martyr’s voice mothers used when they wanted to dump a corpse on you.

—Look after him for me, Ramón, Daniel is a good boy, but he needs to see more of the world —she had pleaded—. And he’s coming with his girlfriend. Take them to the border, they want to see France, and you pass by there anyway.

World I’m going to give him, all right, he thought, scratching his belly with the leisurely pace of a freshly awakened bear.

Then he saw them appear. A city car, clean and shining, parked shyly beside the freight beast. At the wheel was one of the kid’s friends. Daniel got out first, and Ramón let out a laugh that sounded like a seized motor. The boy was a string bean: pale, with plastic-framed glasses, his shirt buttoned all the way to the top and trousers that looked as if they had been ironed with a laser. He had the face of someone who had never broken a plate in his life.

—Uncle Ramón! —he greeted him, coming closer with a hand as limp as a fish.

Ramón shook it, or rather crushed it, enjoying the boy’s contained grimace of pain. His own hand was a calloused paw, stained with grease and tobacco.

—What’s up, kid? You’re skinnier than a canary’s leg. Don’t they feed you at that university?

—Exam stress, man —Daniel stammered, pushing his glasses back into place.

But Ramón was no longer listening. His eyes had locked onto the back door, which had just opened. First came a pair of legs. Long, sheathed in jeans so short the pockets showed below the hem, and so tight you could make out everything if you had a trained eye. And Ramón had a master’s degree in the subject.

Then the rest emerged. A black tank top, without a bra, showed off small, perky breasts. The girl wore her hair dyed platinum blonde with black roots, on purpose, and she was chewing gum with her mouth open. She had the eyes of a street cat, one of those that hisses at you but will let you pet it if you bring food.

—This is Noelia, man —Daniel said with a pride that was too big for him—. My girlfriend.

Ramón took the cigarette from his mouth and gave her a slow once-over, without bothering to hide it, like someone appraising a heifer at the fair.

—Well, well… —his voice dropped an octave—. So this is the prize. Pleased to meet you, gorgeous. I’m Ramón. But you can call me “uncle,” even if we’re not family… yet.

Noelia stopped chewing for a second, held his gaze and smiled crookedly. She saw the budding belly, the gray beard, the arms like hams and that aura of danger the man gave off. And instead of getting scared, her eyes lit up.

—Hi, Ramón. Daniel’s told me about you. He says you’re a bit rough.

—Daniel doesn’t know the half of it, blondie.

***

The truck cab was a temple to functional masculinity. It smelled of old pine air freshener, black tobacco and dry sweat embedded in the upholstery. A spare-parts calendar with a topless woman hung from the dashboard, and the little image of a virgin, stuck on with a magnet, was looking away as if ashamed.

The seating arrangement was the first act in Daniel’s tragedy.

—You, up front —Ramón ordered, climbing into the driver’s seat—. And you, girl, in the middle, on the cooler. That way you ride like a queen, and I’ve got you close in case I need you to pass me the lighter.

Noelia sat in the raised gap between the two seats, her bare thighs just inches from Ramón’s right arm. Daniel, obedient, buckled himself in and took out a book.

The engine roared. A deep vibration made the cab floor tremble and, along with it, the girl’s backside. Ramón shifted into first with a jerky motion, his hand “accidentally” brushing her knee. He didn’t pull away.

They had been on the highway for two hours when the atmosphere began to thicken. The air conditioning was only working halfway and the heat made them sweat. Ramón loved it. His sweat-soaked shirt outlined his pectorals.

—And you, nephew? —he asked, one eye on Noelia’s damp neckline—. Still not smoking, not drinking, and nothing at all?

—Uncle, please… —Daniel turned red and looked out the window—. Don’t be crude.

—Crude? —Ramón lit another cigarette. Smoke filled the cramped space—. Crude is eating when you’re not hungry, kid. I’m a man. One of the kind that doesn’t exist anymore. Right, Noelia?

He turned his head and blew smoke almost in her face. She inhaled it as if it were oxygen and licked her lips.

—I like men with character —she said, looking at the hairy forearms on the wheel—. Daniel is very sweet. But sometimes one gets tired of all that sweetness, right? Sometimes you want something salty. Or spicy.

The insinuation hung there, dense and obscene. Ramón felt the blood go straight to his crotch.

—I’ve got salty if you want it, girl —he growled, dropping a hand to change gear.

As he grabbed the lever, he made an exaggerated movement. His forearm pressed against the inside of Noelia’s thigh, his rough wet skin against hers. And after he shifted into fifth, he didn’t move away. He left it there, resting, feeling the heat coming off the girl. Daniel, buried in a book on ethics, noticed nothing. Or didn’t want to.

—You’re hot, huh? —Ramón whispered.

—Very —she answered, her voice broken—. This truck vibrates a lot.

—She’s a beast. And you’ve got to know how to tame her. Not just anyone can handle the ride up here. Do you think you could handle a long trip with me?

Noelia looked him in the eye, completely ignoring her boyfriend less than a meter away.

—I can handle whatever gets thrown at me. If it’s big and strong, I can handle it.

Ramón had to bite his lip to keep from pulling over on the shoulder right there and then.

***

They stopped to eat after León, at one of those service areas where trucks crowd together like elephants at a watering hole and the bar floor is covered in used napkins. Noelia dragged a chair over, but her mind was still trapped kilometers back.

She couldn’t get it out of her head. Earlier, Ramón had stopped the beast on a widening of the road under the pretext that his bladder wouldn’t give him a break. And he hadn’t hidden. On the contrary: he had positioned himself in profile against a solitary tree, in a pose that left nothing to the imagination. Despite the distance, Noelia had thought she saw a hard, unmistakable anatomy, a promise of strength even at rest that had left her breathless.

When he came back to the cab, he slammed the door and shot her a wink loaded with spite and confidence. That wasn’t a greeting: it was a signature. The bastard knew she hadn’t looked away. That was his trump card, the ace he kept in his fly. A weapon that worked like a magnet: it didn’t matter whether they were young girls or ladies of high standing. As soon as the bulge showed, everything else fell to fifth place. Hair no longer mattered, or the belly straining the shirt buttons, or the stink of sweat and diesel, or that rough way of speaking, throwing out curses as naturally as breathing.

Ramón ordered for all three, ignoring Daniel’s protests that he wanted salad.

—Three orders of tripe, a platter of pork cracklings, and house wine, with a soda for the kid! —he bellowed at the waiter—. And bread, lots of bread, for soaking!

Ramón ate like an animal: he chewed with his mouth open, soaked up the sauce with bread and drank straight from the jug. Daniel picked at his food with disgust. But Noelia surprised him. She devoured the tripe with gusto, staining her lips with red fat, and looked at Ramón every time he shoved a piece of bread into his mouth.

—I like watching women eat —he said, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs—. Women who eat well do everything well. Picky eaters —he looked at Daniel with contempt— are usually prudes.

Daniel sighed and put down his fork.

—I’m going to the bathroom —he said, overwhelmed.

As soon as he disappeared, Ramón leaned over the table. His breath of wine, garlic and tobacco hit Noelia, but she didn’t draw back. She leaned toward him.

—Your boyfriend’s a bore —he muttered, lowering his voice—. I don’t know what you’re doing with him. A woman like you needs a man who’ll wreck her, not one who asks permission to touch her.

Noelia smiled, a dirty smile, and dropped her gaze to Ramón’s fly, where the bulge was obvious.

—He’s a good guy… but it’s true I get bored sometimes.

—You get bored? —Ramón slipped a hand under the table. Without preamble, he grabbed her knee and moved up, squeezing the firm flesh of her thigh—. I’ll cure your boredom in five minutes, girl. I’ll leave your legs shaking for a week.

She gasped when his rough fingers brushed the edge of the fabric, right between her legs.

—Ramón… —she whispered—. Daniel’s coming back.

He withdrew his hand, but not before giving her a possessive, almost painful squeeze.

—We’ll continue later. There’s still a long road ahead.

***

They reached the border area after dark. Ramón decided to stop in a dark vacant lot, away from the lights of the main gas station, claiming that “you slept more peacefully there.” The truth was he wanted darkness and privacy.

Daniel was exhausted. The wine at lunch and the jolting ride had knocked him out, and none of them was hungry after the midday feast. Skipping dinner was unanimous.

—Time for bed, lovebirds —said Ramón, cutting the engine. Silence fell over the field like a blanket—. Tomorrow we cross.

—How do we organize ourselves? —Daniel yawned.

—You recline the passenger seat and that’s that, since it’s the most comfortable —Ramón lied—. Noelia and I’ll make do in back, in the bunk, since it’s wide. The other cot’s full of tools. And you’re very long, those legs won’t fit. She’s tiny, she fits well against the wall. I’m not going to eat your girlfriend, kid.

—It’s okay, Daniel —she cut in quickly—. I’ll sleep dressed and that’s it.

Daniel, too tired to argue and trusting in family good faith, agreed reluctantly. He settled into the seat, covered himself with a jacket and, ten minutes later, was snoring.

Ramón drew the curtains separating the driving area from the bunk, but left a slit open, enough to see his nephew’s silhouette. That gave him a thrill: knowing the rightful owner was two meters away, unconscious, while he was about to steal the goods.

He took off his T-shirt. The smell of sweat filled the small space. Noelia was sitting on the bed, legs tucked up, looking at him.

—You going to sleep like that, dressed? —he asked in a hoarse whisper.

—Truth is I’m starting to get hot… —she said, trembling.

—Then take it off. There’s no room for modesty here.

Ramón didn’t wait. He threw himself on her, not like a lover but like a predator. He shoved her onto the mattress and went for her mouth. The kiss was brutal: tongue, saliva, teeth, the taste of tobacco and repressed desire. Noelia answered with the same fury, digging her nails into his broad back.

—Fuck, you’re so good —he growled against her neck, while his rough hands yanked down her jeans in one pull.

She was wet. Very wet.

—Ramón… Daniel’s right there… —she moaned, but she spread her legs.

—Screw him. Let him learn.

He grabbed her by the thighs, forced them apart with brute strength, and buried his face between them. He was not gentle. He ate with ravenous, noisy hunger, his broad tongue working while his hands squeezed her ass. Noelia had to bite her fist to keep from crying out. The sound of saliva and muffled moans filled the back of the cab.

He looked up for a second, his beard wet, and glanced through the slit. Daniel was still asleep, oblivious to everything. That sight excited him more than anything in the world. He went back in, sucking hard, and Noelia arched her back in a silent, violent orgasm that left her breathless.

He didn’t stop. He shoved three fingers in at once, seeking the deepest point with a force that made the bunk frame creak. She tried to choke back another cry against her hand, but the assault was too much. The combination of tongue, bites and penetration drove her to the limit a second time, until she buried her face in the pillow so her boyfriend wouldn’t hear that final sob of spent pleasure.

Ramón sat up, panting, his face shining. He felt like the king of the world.

—Now it’s your turn —he said, and it wasn’t a request.

He got down on his knees, his head brushing the cab ceiling, and pulled down his underwear. What came out of there left Noelia wide-eyed. Ramón was not just a big man: he was endowed in an intimidating, almost grotesque way, something you rarely saw outside the most extreme cinema.

She swallowed, and the sound was audible. Suddenly, excitement gave way to primal fear.

—You like it? —he asked with a self-satisfied smile—. It’s all yours. But treat it with respect, it’s got a bad temper.

—Holy shit… —she stammered, backing against the wall—. I don’t know if…

—You’re backing out now? You’ve been asking for trouble this whole trip. —He moved closer, pushing his hips toward her face—. Open your mouth. Wide.

Noelia obeyed, driven by a mix of terror and a lust she couldn’t control. She parted her lips as far as she could. The truck driver had no mercy: he grabbed her dyed hair and set the rhythm, thrusting, using her without compunction.

—Look at you sucking your uncle off while he dreams of angels —he panted, glancing sideways at the curtain—. You’re a filthy little slut, Noelia. You like having it stuffed with cock, don’t you?

The dirty words, the degradation, the size in her throat… Tears sprang to her eyes, but she couldn’t stop. He yanked her hair harder every time she tried to steal a millimeter of air, reveling in that silent humiliation just a few meters from the sleeping nephew.

—Don’t stop… I’m about to go —he warned, every muscle tensing.

He gave three final thrusts and came with a guttural grunt, a thick, hot torrent. Noelia had to swallow and swallow, feeling it flood everything, smearing the corners of her mouth and her chin. He kept her pinned there until the very last drop. Only then did he let her go.

She fell back, coughing, eyes watering and face marked. She felt dirty, used, broken… and strangely alive. She wiped herself as best she could and curled up in the farthest corner of the bed, looking at him with a mixture of dread and reverence. She almost regretted waking that animal. Almost.

Ramón reached for the tobacco pack on the bedside table, lit one and took a deep drag. He exhaled the smoke toward the ceiling. The orange ember glowed in the dark like the devil’s eye.

—Get some sleep, girl —he said, his voice hoarse and satisfied—. And pray I pass out before this one gets eager again.

From the passenger seat, Daniel’s snore broke the silence. Ramón gave a malicious little laugh, took another drag and closed his eyes, feeling like the master of the road.