By the Troubador
 
 
 
 
 
 

This is copyright June 2001 by the Troubador. All rights are reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced for any reason without explicit written permission from the author. Do not remove this copyright statement.

Unless someone has downloaded this from the site on which it was found, you already know it is erotic, and I assure you there will be graphic sexual content. If for some reason you aren’t legally supposed to have access to such content, please go away and come back when it is legal. I assure you it will be much more enjoyable then, and you will understand it better and get more out of it. I know this is true because that is what my mother told me almost sixty years ago, and I have learned everything my mother told me is correct. That is why I always wear clean underwear. The reason I am always polite and courteous to women has other, ulterior motives however.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

The sky was one of those high cerulean blue cloudless skies so often found in Eastern Washington in May. I was heading west, driving out of Spokane in my 21-foot Class C motorhome. I had been to Spokane visiting my son, his wife and more importantly perhaps my three granddaughters. The idea was to have a visit just before Memorial Day weekend. Then I’d miss the traffic on the holiday, they would see their dad and granddad, and Brent and his family would have the long weekend to themselves without being encumbered by granddad.

It had been a great few days, and as always Brent and Marilyn his wife, wanted me to stay over for the holiday. Made me feel good, and now I was feeling down. Since my wife’s death 2 years ago after 37 years of marriage, I tended to avoid ‘bothering’ people with my presence. Sure, it was a sign of depression, so go take a hike. It was my depression.

To top off my blues, the beautiful 85-degree day was too hot for me, after spending all those years in Seattle. Not that it really rains 12 months a year in Seattle, but anything over 80 degrees is a real heat wave over there on the wet side of the Cascade mountains. I hadn’t really started the drive yet but decided to pull into the next rest stop, use the ‘facilities’ and get a cup of the free coffee being handed out by volunteers. The coffee was a great idea to keep people awake on the road. So I pulled in and parked on the ‘heavies’ side. Didn’t need to, as my rig was only 21 feet long, but I’d gotten accustomed to going into that side with all the big trucks.

Pulling the motorhome smoothly to a stop, I pulled on the brake and stepped out of the air-conditioned cab and into a really beautiful spring day. Strolling over to the large brick building housing the Men’s and Women’s rooms, I counted and found a sign with 3 letters in it and walked in after exchanging my prescription sunglasses for my regular glasses. It had urinals, so I’d lucked out again. After depositing my liquid treasure into the state’s subterranean vault, I washed my hands and blow-dried them.

Strolling out of the dimly lit john, I turned to look toward where my rig was parked and was stopped still in my tracks. Just stepping out of her car maybe 100 feet from me was a woman. When I was younger I would have said I fell in love at first sight. My first quick glance convinced me I had to spend as much time as I could examining this treasure. Of course, I had to do it without making a complete jackass of myself (I did that entirely too often, so knew I should avoid it when I could). So I fumbled my dark glasses from the case I was wearing on my belt. I kept stealing quick glances at her as she swayed toward me and as I fumbled for my cover. Surreptitiously, I hoped.

By the time I swapped glasses she was about 40 feet away, and I felt safe turning toward her and really ogling her good. She was wearing dark glasses too, so I figured there was no way she could see where my eyes were directed as long as I kept my head turned toward my rig and not looking directly at her.

Now please understand what I was seeing. She was wearing a sundress with spaghetti straps, with bright golden flowers on a lovely light tan background. The color combination was a perfect compliment to her dark blond hair. Her hair was worn loose to her square shoulders. She was sporting one of those expensively cut ‘dos’ that made her look slightly tousled from the wind

In my mind it was tousled from my hands and our exertions.

The very modest dress was made of some soft silky material that swelled where she swelled, pulled in and clung where her curves did, and as I said, was a perfect compliment to her soft golden coloring. It was modestly cut, but the way it clung to her bust, hips and a very sexy little tummy it was affecting me more than if she were nude. Some women know that truth and she was one of them, a dressed woman can be far more attractive than a nude, unless she is in a place where her nudity is required. Where the dress swelled over her breasts it made my palms itch. Her breasts were perfect for her frame. I have never been a fan of huge oversized tits, hers were just right. Just use your imagination and create the perfect shape, maybe 36 25 36 and that was her.

And something marvelous in this day when the flat athletic belly is worshipped. She had this little tummy accented by the dress that made me want to kiss and lick it, and then lay my own belly against hers and rub our bellies together.

I guessed she was 35 or so. Not a young hard-body, with limited experience that she would assume was all there was to know. But a woman who had been there a few times and had felt the heat. In her case the world had turned out a superior product.

Her hips, and legs, the way she glided across the ground, the poetry of her every movement, the grin she threw at me when she was about 8 feet away … Ooops! Oh God! I’d been busted! She damn well knew where my eyes were directed. Perhaps it was the drool coming out of the side of my mouth that gave me away. Embarrassed at being caught, I gave her one of my big friendly embarrassed grins and we both said hi as she passed me.

I continued slinking over to my rig, forgetting about the coffee I was going to pick up at the volunteer stand, and consoled myself that she hadn’t been one of those that picked a fight with a man for admiring her. She’d very obviously been amused, and I could only hope she was secretly pleased at the compliment my admiration was paying her.

What my blonde saw was a man just under average height at 5 foot 8 carrying a tad bit too much weight, with short iron gray hair and a full, short cropped beard now turned almost pure white. My weight was distributed evenly over a square, wide shouldered frame such that while my 210 pounds was too much, it fit the nick-name given me when I was younger, the fireplug. But what was most important was the smile I had thrown at her.

Over my 62 years I have learned I could charm almost anyone with my smile and grin. The one I’d thrown at her had had the desired effect, when she saw it her own smile had turned to an open mouthed wide grin. What made it effective and in my estimation probably my greatest tool, was that that I was sincere. I did pride myself in not looking my age, but I also knew I could never be mistaken for someone my blonde’s age. So while I admired her immensely from afar, I knew it would only be from afar. Even if we became good friends my admiration would still have to be at a distance.

Once back in my rig I decided to wait and treat myself by watching her return saunter to her car. The sight would make the whole day more pleasant.

She was that good looking.

Maybe 5 minutes later she exited the ladies and turned her long strides back toward her car, which was parked between the brick building and where I was waiting in my motorhome. When she was about half way there a man called to her from one of the phones in a bank against the brick building, and then he strode briskly to where she now stood waiting regally for him.

He was an officious looking man, carrying too much weight in his belly and ass. He wore a determined and self-important look on his face as he bustled over. I knew at a glance that the ‘Entire Weight of the Future of Western Civilization’ rested on his ‘Square, Strong and Competent Shoulders’. Or at least that was his opinion of himself and his importance.

He started speaking before reaching the blonde. I could see her shoulders tense from where I was sitting though I couldn’t hear what he had to say. By the time he was standing before her she had brought her feet together, squared her whole stance and crossed her arms in front of her breasts.

She was in a classic angry, defensive, closed posture position. Anyone paying the least bit of attention to her body language knew this was one angry upset female. She was fighting mad. I made a little bet with myself that unless one was very observant or knew her, she would not let anyone know how truly pissed she was.

The man paid no attention to the signs, I wondered if he even saw them. Once standing before my queen he paused and informed her brusquely of whatever he had to inform her of. Then he marched back to the phones. Officiously pulling a small address book from his pocket he picked up a phone. While I watched, he snapped orders to someone on the other end of the line and then stood rigidly looking at his watch while keeping the phone loosely pressed against his ear. The lackey at the other end of the phone connection was going to be held responsible for every second the great man was kept waiting.

My blonde friend spun on her heel and marched to her car. Surprisingly it was an older BMW, but it looked like she had just driven it new off the showroom floor this morning. There she leaned back against the right front fender with her arms crossed, still very angry.

I didn’t know the lady, nor did I know the man. However I already disliked the egotistical son of a bitch, just on general principles. I have never been fond of men giving off the aura he was sending, detectable from 25 yards away.

Slipping quietly out of my motorhome, I strode purposefully to the stand where volunteers were handing out free coffee. Once there I asked for two coffees, one black and one with cream and sugar. With a cup in each hand, I walked back toward my rig. Nearing the BMW where the blonde was fuming and leaning against the fender, I changed directions slightly and up to her.

"Do you like your coffee black, or with cream and sugar?" I asked when I reached her.

"What?" was her reply, as she snapped out of the angry glare she was directing toward her traveling companion who was standing, studying his watch. She stared at me startled for a moment before I saw her trying to puzzle out where she had seen me before.

"Well, I came to ask your forgiveness. Do you like sugar and cream in your coffee, or do you like it black?" I asked again as I held both cups out for her to choose.

"Uh, how do you drink yours?" she asked while she studied the two cups, one obviously black the other what I call a milk shake.

Smiling at her I answered, "This is for you, what I like isn’t important here. I’m guessing you like black, but I thought I’d better come prepared just in case."

Glancing up at me she answered, "You’re right, I prefer it black. But, why are you asking forgive… Oh yeah! You are the guy I caught inspecting my wardrobe. Sorry, but I’m married, that’s my husband over there, so I fear your ploy is doomed to failure." And she smiled at me, but a much-reduced plastic smile, not at all like the happily amused one she had graced me with when she caught me staring.

"Oh nuts! I guess I deserved that. No, I’m not trying to pick you up, but I wanted to ask forgiveness for being caught ogling you. Nothing wrong with the ogling, but being caught is very impolite. Please, take the coffee and my apologies for both the ogling, and placing you in a position of having to get rid of a masher. You do it very well, and gently may I add," holding out the black coffee. "Besides," I added, "it’s free." And smiled back at her.

She hesitated for a moment then reached to take the black coffee, blushing prettily. "I guess I should offer my apology for jumping to conclusions. I did find the approach pretty smooth by the way. Can I ask a strange question? How did you guess what kind of coffee I prefer?"

"Oh boy, now I am in trouble," and here I paused for just a moment to think how to put this. "There were two reasons, the first is very straight forward. I have found a lot, not all, but a lot of well-centered, self-confident women seem to prefer their coffee black," and then I stopped, pretending that was both reasons.

"Very well said, now I want the other shoe please," she demanded, looking me straight in the eye.

"Uh, well this sounds like it contradicts my professing to not being a masher. Sure you want to hear it?"

Chuckling she said, "Even more so now, buster. What gives?"

"Boy is this going to sound weak, but it’s the truth." I took a deep breath and continued, "No one as sweet as you is going to need or probably even want a lot more sweetness," I replied and kind of looked at her from under my eyebrows. "There’s a lot more to it than that, but that’s the gist of my thinking."

A sudden voice from behind me, "Helen, who is this yahoo? Buster, get clear, that’s my wife and she is definitely not available."

I turned, holding the sugar and cream coffee in my hand. It had to be the ladies husband. At least I knew her name was Helen. I was going to pour it either over his pants, or throw it in his face, whichever was appropriate and if needed.

Instead I heard the jerk say, "Oh! My god! It’s Duncan Handsworth! I heard you speak at that conference in Hawaii what, three years ago. I never had a chance to meet you then. Helen, you never told my you knew Mr. Handsworth!"

Smiling, I answered him, "Oh, we’re just casual friends. I’m sorry…"

With a twinkle in her eye, Helen broke in, "Duncan, I’d like to introduce my husband, Gerald Conningham. Darling, when Duncan saw me leaning against my car he brought me the coffee. I think I looked kind of lost, and he thought that maybe he could help. Jerry what in the world came up? You promised you wouldn’t even bring your cell phone so we could have these two weeks just to ourselves."

Conningham puffed himself up a bit, looking officious. "Dear, I left my phone at home as I promised, but I did take my pager along in case there was an emergency and there was a buzz from it about 5 miles down the road. That’s why I stopped here, to see what the buzz was about." Here he smirked at me, to see if I had caught his word play.

I smiled at him and gave a polite chuckle to let him know I heard. Helen was standing half behind me where her husband couldn’t see her hand, and she poked me in the back, giving a little snort her husband couldn’t have heard.

"Anyway, dear, there has been a problem in Manila that I’m afraid I have to handle, and then I’ve got to go to Peoria to handle things on this end of the line. I shouldn’t be gone more than three weeks. If it’s any longer I’ll let you know, OK?"

Helen looked like Mt St Helens two days before it blew. "How soon will you be leaving, Jerry?" she asked him, speaking very slowly and enunciating each syllable clearly.

"I’m sorry dear, but I have a flight out of Spokane International in 4 hours. Plenty of time for you to drive me there, and I can pick up any thing I need once I get to the Philippines. I brought my traveling suit with me, so I’ll change into that at the airport. It will work out well. You can still go on to Chelan and enjoy the lake yourself."

"Yeah, maybe," was Helen’s answer.

Good old Jerry opened the passenger door of the BMW and climbed in, Helen looked at the coffee still in the cup I brought her, grimaced, threw it out and gave me a tiny smile. Then she walked around the BMW and opened the door. I followed behind her, on my way to my rig and admiring her walk. Opening the drivers door, she gave me a genuine smile, "Duncan, your apology for running into me is unnecessary, you’re the only good thing that’s happened so far today. You can – run into me – again any time." Then she slid into the car. Her dress rode well up her thighs as she did so, giving me a wonderful look at some of the nicest legs I have ever seen. Smiling mischievously she pulled her legs slowly into the car, and shut the door. Watching those long, long legs I thought my heart was going to stop. Giving me another tiny smile she cranked the engine and pulled smoothly away from the curb. She was going well past the speed limit of 70 when she whipped onto the freeway just a moment later.

Sighing to myself I tossed the extra coffee into a trash receptacle and walked back to my motorhome to follow in her tire prints, albeit a whole lot slower. Motorhome’s just aren’t built for that kind of speed. She would have to drive west toward Ritzville and then slingshot around to head east back to Spokane. She would be passing me, heading east, before I ever got close to Ritzville. Meeting her had been a real pleasure, meeting her husband a real pain; but she had more than offset the pain.

I hadn’t gone 5 miles before I saw a small car up ahead about a mile with the hood raised. Drawing closer, it began to look like Helen’s BMW.

Sure enough, as I got close I saw it was hers. Helen and Jerry were standing in front of the car, looking helplessly into the opened engine compartment. I pulled up in front of them, stopping close to where they were studying the dead engine. Shutting down my rig I climbed carefully out. There wasn’t a lot of traffic on I-90 here, but it was all traveling fast and I didn’t want to play matador to some farmer’s pick-up.

As I stopped next to where they stood, Helen was looking desperately at me and her husband was almost apoplectic. He was telling her how HE had wanted to take the Cadillac, not the antique thing SHE drove, and if he HAD his cell phone they would already have help on the way already. Then he started into a litany of the problems his missing the flight from Spokane was going to cause, etc., etc. It seemed everything was Helen’s fault, including global warming. If you counted the heat coming from her husband’s choleric red face, maybe he was right.

Looking at Helen but addressing Gerald to keep the lid on the pot which was boiling madly there beside the road, I asked what the problem was.

"This junk heap just broke down, and now I’ll miss my connecting flight in Seattle. I’ve told her to get rid of this antique, but she has some kind of fixation on it because it was the first decent car she could buy and she did it with her own money. I ask you, what kind of drivel is that over a machine?"

Ignoring the slander against Helen’s beloved car, I consoled the oaf over his predicament. Then, "Hey, Jerry, I tell you what. Why don’t you two lock up the BMW and climb into my rig. I’ll give you a ride to Ritzville. You can arrange transportation to Spokane from there and Helen can make arrangements to get the car taken care of. You should be able to get to Spokane with plenty of time. That sound OK with you folks?"

"Oh my god, man! You’ve saved my life," from the husband.

Helen smiled gratefully at me. Then I led them to the motorhome and we climbed in. As I expected, Jerry took the passenger seat up front next to me, leaving Helen to get comfortable on the furniture in the living area behind the step-down into the driving compartment.

As I was pulling back out onto the Interstate Gerald asked, "Where is your wife? Lovely woman! I saw her at the front table in Hawaii. Someone told me you took her every place you went. I can understand that, she’s a real looker. In some ways it keeps the expenses down on those long trips, eh?" I thought he was going to reach all the way over to nudge me in the ribs. Then he added, "As we get older, though, the old ‘needs’ do seem to fade away. I will admit its nice not to be governed by those urges, though their loss is missed on occasion I suppose. Isn’t that what you have found?"

I was shocked at his crudeness and the crassness of his remarks in front of his wife and needed a minute to reply. Before answering, I adjusted the inside mirror. It was really only there to allow me to see what was happening behind me in the rig. I turned it so I could see Helen sitting behind her husband on the right side. Of course, she could see me in the mirror too and knew I was looking at her.

"Well, you are right. Those urges do reduce as we get older," was my answer, sticking my tongue in my cheek and looking in the mirror to be sure Helen saw me do so. "When those urges go, they are missed," I added.

Looking in the mirror I saw Helen point a finger at me, then rub a finger over it from the other hand. Damned if she wasn’t giving me the old ‘Naughty, Naughty’ sign from grade school!

What I next had to say was still difficult even after two years. "I’m afraid Jamie can’t come with me on these trips any more. And you are right; I always took her everywhere I went. She died two years ago, and I’ve been alone ever since then." Thankfully the man was at a loss for words, but I saw Helen’s comforting look and felt the hand she rested on my shoulder, giving me a soft squeeze.

We were in Ritzville in 20 minutes, and stopped at the Texaco station on the east edge of town. There, Jerry made arrangements to be driven back to the Spokane airport by a teen-age boy just getting off work at the station. I never said anything, I think he could have taken a regular taxi for less than he was paying the kid.

During negotiations with the kid I was standing behind Jerry where he couldn’t see me and I was giving the kid signals as negotiations were progressing. Almost every time Jerry thought he had a deal, I’d signal the kid to boost it up a little. He ended up paying $125 for the trip, plus paying for the gas separately and reimbursing the kid for a couple jobs he was supposed to do that afternoon. I think the jobs were fictitious, but when I was signaling so hard he had to come up with something else Jerry could pay him for.

Helen had been standing off to the side, keeping a poker face as she watched the husband who had been ranting at her being taken by a 17-year-old high school kid. The sign advertising the town taxi was on the wall right behind where she was standing, hidden by her back. The kids replacement for next shift at the station started to say something about the sign Helen was hiding, but I gave him a $20 and asked him to bring three hamburgers for us from the neighboring restaurant and asked him to keep the change. The station owner nodded to the kid that it was OK to be gone for the 20 minutes necessary to get the ‘burgers and off he went.

By the time he got back, Jerry and his driver had gone. Surprisingly, Helen wasn’t hungry and neither was I so the kid got to eat the burgers himself. Sixteen-year-old boys are nothing but one voracious appetite.

Helen looked a little troubled. When I asked her the problem she admitted feeling a little guilty with the way we had treated her husband. She did brighten up when I reminded her of the way he had been acting. And lord knows they could afford it. I also suspected he would find some way to hide the expense in his travel voucher, and maybe even make a profit.

After she make arrangements with the station to have her BMW picked up and repaired I invited her to have lunch with me, and she accepted. Once seated in a surprisingly dim room in a little steak house just across the road from the service station she looked at me a little puzzled and asked, "Isn’t this putting a real crimp in your schedule? I mean you have already spent an hour and a half just getting me and Jerry into Ritzville."

Sipping my coffee I explained that after Jamie’s death the joy I had taken in running my business had gone. We had always done it together. So I just retired. My old employees were running it now, and I was on call as a consultant if they got in any binds. That was rare because I had chosen my people wisely and made sure they were well trained and knowledgeable. "Helen, I have no schedule. I was heading home to Seattle after seeing my grandkids in Spokane. I’m at your service, and so far I’ve had fun being your knight in tarnished armor," I told her.

"Well Duncan, I don’t know what else you can do for me. The car should be here by the time we finish this meal, so I guess I’ll just enjoy your company before you head off."

"Where are you going now, Helen? It sounded like you and your husband had just started a 2-week vacation. Are you on your way to Lake Chelan, returning home, or just wandering for a while?" I asked.

Giving me a quizzical look she asked, "Just wandering, Duncan? I don’t think I’ve ever done that. Have you spent much time just poking around with no schedule?"

"Well yes and no," was my reply. "As a kid, before I got serious about making a difference in the world I did quite a bit of it. Just hopping in my jalopy and starting off to see what the country was like. Used to take my camera along, and for a while I thought of doing photo essays of some of the little towns I came across."

I found myself being distracted as we talked, what with Helen sitting across from me. She was leaning forward, with her chin resting on her hands, and those perfect breasts kept catching my eye where her dress was gapping open slightly. I just hoped she wasn’t noticing.

After a pause I continued, "Since I was widowed I have done a little bit of poking around the state. It’s kind of fun, and I always feel like I’ve accomplished something afterward. I’m never sure quite what though, looking back on each trip."

Just then our lunch arrived, and both of us were surprised to find we were hungry so we just fell to for a bit. After dinner we walked back over to the Texaco station to see about her car. Helen had confessed her husband’s sniping at her car was on the money. She was an accountant, a CPA actually, and the first nice thing she had purchased for herself was the BMW. After she got married she invested almost all of her salary. Her husband was making far more than they needed for living expenses so she had indulged herself and had the little car rebuilt. It was a ‘whole lot of fun to drive’ and it represented her real independence. Gerald had received an unexpected promotion to vice president and with the accompanying startling increase in salary, she quit her accounting job and concentrated on running the family business. She modestly confessed she had ‘enjoyed some investment success’. Quizzing her I discovered she had turned a splendid income into a very tidy fortune and had a lot of fun doing it.

Getting to the Texaco station, we found her car up on the hoist and we would have a little wait before discovering the problem and getting her on her way.

Strolling back outside with me, Helen took my arm, stopping me, and looked up into my eyes. "Duncan," Helen said, "this feels strange to say, but give Jerry a little slack. OK? I mean, he’s really a nice guy. It’s just that he seems to have gotten a bit self-important the last couple of years since becoming a Vice President."

I just nodded my head. I mean, what could I say? The man had changed and she didn’t want to see it. He couldn’t be the man who had captivated this exotic creature. In no way did I want to upset her. I liked her as a person and when I could get away with it, I was feasting my eyes on the finest legs I had ever seen. Guess I’ll always be a dirty old man at heart. What it all boiled down was that she was a pleasure to be around and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. She would be driving out of my life soon enough as it was

Instead of getting her mad, I really wanted to run my tongue all over those thighs. The back of her knees was looking especially like dessert at the moment. I was imagining the taste as just the tip of my tongue traced and tasted that soft skin and I could almost hear her murmuring at the feeling.

Snapping out of my daze I heard her say, "Duncan, you are doing it again. Come on, be a good boy!"

Damn, she had caught me at it again! I felt the blood rush to my face, and knew I was blushing scarlet. "Helen! I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a bore. Please forgive me?"

She chuckled, "Duncan, the way you are looking at me is quite flattering. I know you aren’t being forward, of course you are forgiven. It’s just that I am married, even if Jerry and I are really quite upset with one another at the moment.

I’m pretty dense sometimes. "Jesus, Helen! This 2 week trip was supposed to ‘revitalize’ your marriage wasn’t it?"

"Yes, I’m afraid it was and right now I have no idea where it is going. His charging off like that seems to show me where I stand in his universe. It’s pretty discouraging," she confessed.

Right then the mechanic came out and told us the BMW needed some major engine work. Considering the age of the car, the miles it had on it and the way Helen liked to drive I wasn’t surprised one bit.

After she convinced herself the mechanic was competent, she made arrangements to have the work done here. The only problem was it would be two days before it was finished. Three days if the parts had to come from Seattle. I suggested we just poke around Ritzville for a while and we climbed into my rig and started looking. I got out my digital camera for me, and gave Helen my Nikon SLR camera to use and we had at it. Like all old frontier western towns there were some fine photos to take, and it turned out Helen had a good eye picking them out.

Come dusk we were like two kids just putting a new toy aside for the day. Neither one of us wanted to stop, but we were so happy-tired we really had no choice. Spotting what looked like a neighborhood bar with several beat up pick-up trucks around I pulled in and we went in for a beer for me, white wine for Helen and a chance to stretch our legs out. A grill run by the tavern owner’s wife, was connected to the bar, and we ordered hamburgers for our dinner and sat down at one of the tables to enjoy just sitting and relaxing in one another’s company.

I was pleased with myself. During the day I had figured out what to do to keep from staring at all the stareable parts of my companion. What I did was stand right next to her. In the tavern I sat down beside her at the table instead of across from her. That way, unless I looked down to peek down her dress at those perfect breasts I was home free. She hadn’t busted me once since leaving the Texaco station. Of course, that was because she had to turn her head to look at me so I was given warning. The really nice part was that standing so close to her, it was only natural for me to put my hand on her shoulder or take her elbow to help her in a door or over the curb, or even put an arm around her waist on occasion.

When they arrived, the burgers were really good, the beer was cold and Helen assured me the wine from one of the Washington State wineries was particularly nice. As a result, good food, fine drink, and sparkling company, we weren’t really paying much attention to the time or what was going on around us. It must have been around 8:00 or 8:30 when we came in, and after the food and maybe three beers it was around 10:30 or 11:00 when we noticed the music had gotten pretty loud and the crowd was getting pretty rowdy. What brought us to the present was a tall husky man standing beside Helen and asking her something.

"I’m sorry, what was that?" she asked.

Leaning back and looking arrogantly down at the two of us, he repeated, "Do you want to leave your dad for a couple dances, sweet thing? Got some real fine music coming up on the jukebox."

"What?" Helen sputtered. "No, I think I’ll stay here with Duncan. And by the way, he’s not my father."

"Oh, that explains why he’s been staring down your dress. I was wondering," he replied. "But hey, you need more than an old man like him and you have the best right here beside you." With that he leaned down and slipped his hand around Helen’s arm and effortlessly lifted her to her feet.

She struggled to pull her arm free, but the guy just leaned down and kissed her, putting both arms around her and grinding her body hard against his. She was struggling to get free but was completely under his control. She tried to put a knee into his groin, but he was ready for her and some one in the crowd just laughed and told him to ‘go break the little filly in’.

Knowing from past experience my height was not impressive, I just pushed my chair back and stood up. "Hey pal, let’s leave the lady alone. It’s one thing if she’s interested, but she isn’t so how about me buying you a beer and let us be friends?"

Giving a big ‘Haw, Haw’ the guy looked down at me, "Don’t worry gramps, by the time we’re done she’s going to be interested, aint that right, fellas?" And he turned around and played to the crowd.

"Hey, Chester cool it," came from the bartender. "None of that stuff tonight!"

"Can it, Jones. This is my thing tonight. I’ve had about as bad a day as can be already and you and everyone else just stay out of it! I’ll remember anyone who gets in the way tonight!" was his answer.

The room got quiet pretty fast, as all the men seemed to back away. Back in one corner I heard someone say quietly, "Jesus, I think he’s serious about this tonight." It was pretty obvious to me that Chester was a bad ass, and pretty mean. It looked like we might be in the soup.

"Chester, leave the lady alone and we’ll be on our way," I reasoned. He just laughed at me, and he was still holding Helen in his arms and grinding his crotch into hers.

Just then Helen managed to bring her heel down hard on Chester’s instep. The guy swore and loosened his grip on her allowing Helen to swing away from him though he still had a grip her arm she couldn’t break.

Stepping forward until I was just inches from his chest I drove the heel of my open palm up under his nose as hard as I could. That got his attention, as he shrieked and grabbed his face with both hands. That particular strike can be disabling and can even kill but as I suspected it only seemed to enrage him.

He threw Helen out of the way with his left hand, she landed on a table about 10 feet away, slid off and ended sitting on the floor. The glance I threw at her showed her shocked and angry, but she seemed unhurt. Turning my attention fully back on our attacker I watched him draw back his right to deliver a powerhouse blow that he was sure would stop the fight. I was sure too, if it ever landed. When I saw it start forward I was already stepping to my left. Swaying under the roundhouse right, I pivoted and kicked back as hard as I could, catching him behind the knee with the back of my heel. His leg gave out and he started falling to his right. While he was on his way down I planted my right foot and swung from my knee with my left hand, catching him on the temple, using the heel of my hand again.

I was afraid I might have killed him, with my strength plus his weight and falling momentum combining against the weakest part of the skull. Thing was, I had no choice. If this guy ever laid a hand on me the fight was over and I was sure to at least spend a few days in the hospital. God knew what would happen to Helen with this animal. But we were lucky, I guess. When he stopped bouncing I checked and his breathing and heart rate seemed normal. Actually he looked pretty peaceful on the floor.

I stepped back, looking quickly over the crowd. Nobody moved, except Helen who jumped behind me wrapping both arms around me and burying her face in my back. After what seemed an hour or so, but was probably less than a minute the bartender asked me if I wanted a job. That seemed to release the tension in the crowd. One of the men asked if I would teach a couple of them how to do that. "It would sure as hell make life a lot easier around here."

Laughing, I told him a bung starter poked into a gut would be a surer guarantee, along with more than one guy standing up to him at a time. Someone asked me what a bung starter was, and I suggested he ask the bartender.

Turning toward the door, it just seemed natural to slip my arm around Helen’s shoulder and pull her in close against me. She was trembling, which didn’t surprise me a bit. It had been an interesting few minutes. I leaned down next to her ear and told her she had done superbly, that I was proud of her. Then, I don’t know why, but I kissed her just behind her jaw and I swear she shivered at my kiss.

Keeping my arm tight around her I kind of swaggered to the door. The cool night air felt good after the last few minutes in the over heated bar.

As the door swung shut behind us some wag asked, "Who was that masked man?"

Someone answered, "I don’t know, but he left this here silver bullet!" and the place broke up in nervous laughter. I have to admit Helen’s and my laughs were among them.

I couldn’t help myself. When we got to the rig, parked right next to an open window, I turned to Helen and told her, "Climb in old Silver here, Tonto, And we’ll be on our way." I said it pretty loudly, and we nervously joined the laughter from the bar as we drove away. As we turned a corner a city police car with lights flashing pulled into the bar behind us.

Slumping back into her seat in the rig Helen looked at her watch. "Duncan, do you realize it’s after 11:30? I don’t have a room yet!"

"Let’s go over to the motel by the Texaco station and get you set up," I suggested and headed that way.

When we drove up, the sign said ‘No Vacancies". Darn it but there was no room at the inn.

"Oh Duncan, just when I thought the day was going to turn out pretty good after all. What am I going to do now?" she wailed.

It had been a pretty tough day for her. What with her husband abandoning her in the middle of nowhere, with a broken car, then yelling and sneering at her, and the lost opportunity to revitalize a failing marriage it had indeed been a tough day.

Topping that off was the trouble in the bar. I’d never been in a situation like that when the whole room seemed afraid to respond to an ugly situation.

On the other hand, we’d had fun all afternoon. The tavern experience had been perfect until the cowboy had intervened, and that had ended up with both of us feeling like heroes.

"Helen, this is going to sound like another come on. Seems like that’s all I’ve sounded like all day. We are sitting in one of my houses, and I have an extra bed. Could I ask you to spend the night with me?" After I shut my mouth, I realized what I had said, "Damn that didn’t come out right, either!"

"Oh, I don’t know," Helen laughed at me. Reaching over and taking my hand in hers, she added, "Sure, why not! I can trust you, and after I spent the day with you anyone with a small mind has already made up their mind as to what has been going on. Sure! I’ll even make breakfast, if you have the makings. That will surely turn the biddies eyes!"

I pulled in next to the Texaco station, and asked the guy on duty where I could park the rig and spend the night without being disturbed. When he found out the rig was completely self contained he sent me out a small farm road and then down a side road about 5 miles from town. We found a flat little dale with a grove of trees around a small spring hidden from the road. Pulling into the little cove, we spent about 10 minutes leveling the motorhome. Shutting everything down and I made sure all the systems; water, heat, sewage, electric was working. In the silence we could hear the insect chorus, and hear the burble of the little spring. The sky was clear and the stars seemed to be just beyond arms reach. I pulled a couple blankets and pillows out, took Helen’s hand and led her up to the top of the little hill under which we were parked.

The farmer had tilled the land a week or so before and the ground was soft where I lay a blanket down. Dropping the pillows, I apologized to Helen. "It’s too nice to stay cooped up all night, and I think we need to unwind some before we go to bed. Am I being too presumptuous, or would you mind watching a few stars with me?"

Helen leaned up against me, snaked her arms around me and gave me a hug. I rested my arms around her shoulders, and after a minute she tightened her arms around me and gave me a squeeze that I thought was going to break a rib. If it hadn’t felt so good to have her body pressed so tightly against me, it might have hurt. Instead it felt like a little bit of heaven, and there was an instant pole inside my pants.

I was worried that my body had carried things too far but there was no way I could control my male reaction to an incredibly beautiful woman holding her body pressed full length against mine. It was a reaction that would bring instant war from a woman guarding herself against unwanted attention. Worries disappeared when she softly pressed her abdomen and groin against mine.

When she tilted her head up, I lowered my partially opened mouth to cover hers and felt her soft lips yielding themselves to mine. The tip of my tongue was welcomed inside her mouth, and her tongue met mine to play there with hers. The two met like new friends, caressing one another, sending chills through both of us.

Softly moving my lips against hers I looked into her eyes and saw big blue, star filled eyes murmuring yes. Her hands slipped down to the top of my ass and my own hands began exploring the smoothness of her shoulders down to the soft firm globes of her fanny lying under the silky soft/smoothness of the sun dress.

I was wondering to myself ‘how far should I go with this’? The embrace and kiss went on and on, yet seemed to take no time from the earth’s clock. I wondered if I should do anything further. In just these few short hours I already considered this woman one of the truest friends I had made in my lifetime. She was also one of the most attractive women I had ever known. Possessing her in the biblical sense would be something that would warm my dreams for years. But friendship with this exotic creature was too precious to risk, even for the wonder and pleasure her body for the few short hours left in the night.

My hands traveled back up to her shoulders, and I began reluctantly releasing the pressure of my arms from around her when she did something magical. Helen leaned back away from our kiss, and while looking up into my eyes she began softly circling her groin against mine. Soon she was gently but insistently humping against my erection, which was now painfully hard. Her eyes were burning with lust.

Without saying a word, she slowly moved her body away from me. Soon our bodies were no longer touching, with just my arms sliding slowly back off her shoulders and hers moving from my back to my sides. When just my hands were on her shoulders and hers at my waist she moved her hands up to my arms and then slid them down my arms as she stepped back away from me. Taking hold of my wrists she pulled me down to the blanket. There she knelt, pulling me down to kneel before her. Her hands moved to my waist where she pulled my shirt out of the waistband of my pants, grasped the bottom and pulled the shirt up over my head.

This exotically magical creature tossed the shirt aside and ran her hands up and down my chest, then her hands left me to travel to the front of that wonderful dress. Slowly, carefully, precisely she started working the buttons loose starting at the top of the dress. As each button came loose, the dress began to gap open and I could see the swell of her perfect breasts.

I was frozen, unable to move. I doubt I could move. Lord knows, I didn’t want to!

Watching her hands move so slowly down her dress, leaving a growing gap in the dress behind, I had trouble breathing. When she reached her waist she quickly uncoupled her belt, and continued unbuttoning her dress. Finally she loosed the last fastener, and the two sides of her dress fell to the sides. She was kneeling before me, her dress hanging straight down on either side from her shoulders. A delicate peach colored bra clasped and cupped her firm breasts. The darkness of her nipples showed through the material, and pushed out dents on the top of each glorious hill.

My eyes slid down her perfect form, drinking the nudeness of her belly, tasting her navel, which I now knew my lips and tongue would also soon taste. Then I admired the matching peach of her panties. God what a word, panties. On her the word sent sensations, pleasure bumps down my spine. Her legs were bare.

She unkneeled, the only way I can describe it. Helen just stood slowly from where she knelt until she was standing before where I now knelt at her feet. Once upright she shrugged her shoulders and the dress fell to pool around her ankles.

Helen leaned toward me, tilted my face to her and kissed me sweetly. Her tongue teased and licked my lips, slipped inside my mouth and traced my teeth and inside my cheeks. Never had I been so enthralled by a woman. This was not a woman taking control, this was a lover recognizing her new lover was afraid of hurting her or scaring her away. She was claiming herself for me.

"Duncan," she breathed down at me, "I am yours, if you want me. Please want me." Then she slowly knelt down again before me.

I lifted myself to my feet. Unbuckling my belt, I unsnapped and unzipped my trousers and let them fall to my feet. Using my feet, I pushed my pants and shoes off, leaving myself standing before my goddess in only my jockey shorts. I have always thought how shortchanged women are when we strip for each other. A woman in her underwear is smooth, sexy lines. She is a thing to desire and dream of, to paint pictures of, and to treasure. A man is an amorphous bulge in white cotton. And that is certainly what Helen saw, a huge bulge. My cock was pushing the waistline of my shorts out, and I slipped my thumbs under the elastic and pulled them down and off in one smooth motion.

Helen’s quick intake of breath massaged my male ego and made my sword, my spear pulse and shake. It was as hard as it had ever been. Some men worry about the size of their member. I am not concerned about mine. It is nicely sized, with a satisfactory thickness but after my lifetime of its use I knew it and I would be able to meet the demands of any partner no matter what size organ she was used to or believed she needed. We, he and I, only needed the opportunity to perform and prove our ‘mettle’.

Kneeling back down before her I rested my hands on her shoulders, then leaned forward to kiss her. Once she responded to my passion I moved my arms behind her and unclasped her bra, pulling it off her arms. Then I pulled her into my arms, feeling her nipples poking my chest. I writhed my upper body against hers, moving hers against me with my hands. The sheer pleasure of our skin caressing one another was almost enough to cause me to shoot. I groaned with the pleasure.

Leaning forward I lowered my lover to her back then lay myself down beside her resting on my left arm with my cheek against my hand as I covered her with the kisses from my eyes. With my right hand, I traced her shape. At first I kept myself clear of the areas I knew to be erogenous. But I kept returning to the valley between her breasts. Tracing the smooth softness, noting the dampness lying there. I paid particular care to her smooth little belly. I have always been enamored of a woman’s tummy, and Helen’s was erotic. Of course I dipped often into the trap of her navel, tickling it some giving her sensations.

Deciding it was time to up the temperature, I thought to do so by using an erogenous zone almost forgotten in today’s world. Slowly my hand moved up her side just touching her with the tips of my fingers. An ultrasoft touch, being careful not to tickle. Of course as sexually charged as we each were, what would normally be a tickle response would now be sexually stimulating. As I moved my hands I was making little circles with my fingers. Soon I was nearing her underarms, her arms now lying above her head on the blanket. Then I was slowly, so slowly moving my fingers over her shaved underarms, the sensation building to passion as I watched it in her eyes. What had been pure sensual pleasure was now being transformed into sexual need, want, craving. As I worried the soft sensitive skin under her arms she began to undulate her body. I lowered my lips and just touched a nipple with the tip of my tongue. Her breath was coming in little gasps and I could see lust-madness creeping into her eyes.

I kneeled up over her, and with my left hand I captured both her hands and pinned them above her head, leaving her open and unprotected from my loving assault. With my right hand I began stroking and tempting and pleasuring the skin under her far, left arm. Not having been touched before it was many times more sensitive than what I had just been sexually tormenting. I was pleased to find the perspiration that had popped out, and I took advantage of the added stimulation its slickness gave to my helpless love captive. It wasn’t long before my love was gasping and her whole body writhing. Her hips were pumping up, though I doubted she was aware of it. Helen was hot! Not just now, her reactions showed her to be a hot and passionate woman. She must have wondered at my strange smile, if she was seeing clearly enough to recognize its strangeness. Some women can be stimulated to a point that almost any true and careful pleasuring will allow them to explode.

Her eyes were pure madness now, she was gasping, and her body was writhing, such that I could hardly continue my soft stroking and it was difficult to maintain control of her arms. I leaned forward slowly, never breaking contact with her eyes as she stared open eyed at me, her mouth gaping open as she gasped and struggled for breath. Little almost-words were coming from her now.

Just an inch above her left breast, I let a little string of saliva spill from my mouth onto her nipple. It was warm from my mouth, but almost instantly it cooled from the air and though it was impossible, her nipple grew even longer and harder. Leaning over her I blew on the nipple and she started to give little shrieks, soft ones each time I blew. Then I decided it was time, and slowly leaned forward the other inch. I wrapped my lips around her nipple, sucked it into my mouth, widened my mouth and sucked hard again to pull much more of her tit into my mouth. I noted she had stopped breathing. Then I began lashing the nipple with my tongue. It was hard and fast from a soft hot tongue and I was bathing her now cold nipple in the moisture searing hot in my mouth.

She screamed!

She screamed!

She screamed!

And then her body erupted!

I had not yet removed her last clothing, her panties, much less touched her pussy, explored inside her vagina or abused her clitoris. But she was in the midst of a gigantic orgasm. She was babbling, mixed with screams that were now soft – she could not breathe enough to support a scream.

I released her hands and her arms immediately wrapped themselves around my head, pulling it onto her tit as strongly as she could. I dropped my body down on top of hers, lying at an angle to her and pressing my shoulder to her right breast while my mouth continued to lave, suck and chew softly on her left tit. Her legs were jerking, spreading apart, coming back together shaking in the air. With my right hand I reached down between her legs, and when next her legs flew apart I pressed my forefinger against her clit, firmly, than rolled it easily side to side. Not hard, no pain, but the pressure She needed.

Helen’s whole body stiffened and went into convulsions. They lasted maybe 30 seconds, and then she just seemed to melt against and under me.

Looking into her eyes I saw… I blinked and shook myself mentally. What I saw was too early to happen and it couldn’t be true anyway.

I pulled her panties off, making her comfortable on the blanket, then cuddled down by her side, covering us with the second blanket. With a pillow under my head I pulled her over so that she lay with her head cradled on my shoulder and her body pressed full length against mine. Helen sighed and snuggled her face into my shoulder. Soon her breathing smoothed and evened. I knew she had fallen asleep.

I spent the next several minutes looking down at her head where it was nested against me, marveling that this rare creature had ‘come to me’ and slept in my arms.

She was breathing softly and steadily, and I took the chance to cuddle her. The first thought that came to my mind was wonder at that stupid, selfish son of a bitch she was married to. I had expected a marvelous response from this one woman in ten million. But she had been starved for sex, and much worse and harder to understand she had been starved for affection. I am as conceited as the next guy about my sexual ability, but this woman’s response had been extreme. How long had it been since this lovely woman had been satisfied? How could a ‘man’ allow his woman to become so hungry? And how could one not touch her every time she came near, praise her with his look and tell her how he cared.

From her reactions to me all day, I was pretty sure she had been true to that stupid self-satisfied SOB. And he had been ignoring her, I would guess for months and maybe years. Their marriage was in serious trouble, and not because of anything I had done. How had she been able to keep it together so long with no help from her partner. I wondered, was he impotent and unwilling to admit it and get help. I wondered if he was mentally competent.

Maybe he was keeping a ‘little something’ on the side. Some men once they are successful believed it their prerogative to do so. To me it was inconceivable to reach for another woman when the most desirable woman in the state was sleeping every night in your bed.

Smiling to myself, I realized my own hunger for Helen was unappeased, my cock still iron hard. Smug in the belief that Helen would be an avid lover later, I dozed off while counting the stars above our head and cuddling Helen to my chest.

It was an hour, maybe less before I again took notice of what was going on in the world around me. What woke me up was the huge moon that was just rising over the wheat fields to the east, and painting the world in silver magic. Washed in the silver you knew any thing was possible, and only the good could triumph. Even my own tired old self was new, and when I rose to my feet I would again be young, the world mine to be conquered.

Or maybe it was Helen’s soft hand, wrapped around my cock, slowly gently and fondling my still rigid manness that brought me to awareness.

Without moving anything but my eyes, I looked down at Helen who lay still and was cuddled tightly against my side. Her face was cradled against my chest with my arm holding her warmth pulled to my side. She was looking at the moon, a puzzled little frown on her face. And she was so lovely it almost hurt to look at her. Caught by her beauty, it made me stop and think. It had been so long since my wife had died. I not only had not dated since then, I realized I hadn’t looked on a woman since then as a man looks at a woman.

I must have moved or made some little sound, for my companion looked up at me and smiled. "Good evening, kind sir," she murmured. Then turned her face to kiss my bare chest. "Duncan, I seem to be naked, all over!"

Chuckling, I gave her a squeeze.

"Oh brother, that came out strange," she said. "What I mean," she added, with a question in her voice, "I don’t remember taking off my panties?"

"I kind of helped you there, when I covered us up," I said.

"Well, uh, I mean it doesn’t feel like it, but did you, um, complete our loving before you covered us up?"

"Oh, now I understand! No Helen, I’m pretty sure you had told me yes before you kind of took a nap, but I’d never push or do things to you that you hadn’t agreed to completely and were an active participant in doing. I just thought it would be pleasant to feel you clasped to me, without even the panties between us. I didn’t mean to take advantage."

"Um, oh you didn’t Duncan. I’m not sure if I wasn’t the one to take advantage of you. It has been a while since I have been loved. And speaking of which," and here she rose up on her elbow and looked down into my eyes, "you were incredible! How in the world did you make me do that!?"

I pulled her gently back down to lie on my chest, with her lips just inches from mine. "My lady, an artist is only as good as his materials and subject. I am not a Da Vinci, but you are deserving of one. You are a beautiful, desirable and responsive woman. Thank you." And I gently pulled her lips down to meet mine.

It was only a light kiss when our lips met, but when our lips broke contact she took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss me again. This time the softness of her lips, the heat of her mouth trapped me. Our lips explored and our tongues discovered all to be found. My own heart raced, and I could feel hers beating with mine. For a time I could only feel Helen, her body soft and hot against mine, her hair hanging down around our faces, her breasts crushed softly against my chest.

Pulling herself atop me, she lay between my legs, her whole length pressing into me. I could feel the hard pebbles of her nipples squirming against me, as she must have felt the log growing from my groin, which now lay trapped and enraptured between our bellies.

Helen pulled her lips from mine, and her eyes tied us together. I suddenly knew what the poets meant when they sang of being trapped in a woman’s gaze.

"I want you now, Duncan, but I want to love you. Do you understand?" she asked.

In answer I reached both my arms about her and held her firmly to me, then began softly exploring her back with my hands. No part of her I could reach was left untouched, and as my hands explored I took notice of where she showed by her response that I had found a new place to pleasure her.

It wasn’t long when her body began moving against mine, and I don’t think she was aware in the beginning that she was doing so. I began spending more and more time at the places that were sending shivers into her core. The movement of her body became a writhing against me, her mound grinding against my shaft and I deemed it time.

Rolling first to the left, then to the right, I moved my knees between her legs. I then spread my legs, moving hers apart. Moving my hands to her hips, I lifted and pulled her up while pushing my butt into the ground until my cock was free and the tip riding in her slit. Slowly I lowered her hips to my thirsty cock. Helen suddenly gasped as her hole captured just the head and I popped inside her. She was still juicy and wet from her immense cum and I slid in easily.

Pausing I let the sensation of her nether lips surrounding and gripping the purple head washed over me. I was surprised by a sudden sense of sadness when the thought came to me that this may be the only time, at least the only night when I could pleasure this creature. As my shaft slowly began to sink deeper within her cave the sadness disappeared in the smooth clasp of her vaginal walls as I traveled up to my goal. My entrance was slow and it was as if her core was sucking me into her, I had no sense of pushing myself in. Reaching the end, my cock bumped her cervix and she gasped. I lay still, soaking in her liquids and warmth, marinating in her. Then I pushed again, hard and felt myself push even further, seemingly entering her womb itself.

The woman above me gasped and shuddered. A mini orgasm spent itself, and I slowly withdrew feeling the walls of her cunt gluing themselves to my spear and her juices laving me. She was incredibly wet. When my cock had all but left her cunt, I slowly reversed the movement and began the movement our kind has known since we became aware. Helen, my Helen at least for the night, was soon lost in our world of sensation.

As had to happen, I soon was not content with such slow exquisite feeling and began to increase the pace of our coupling. Soon my hands returned to their business on her back, and I began spending more and more time on a spot on her spine, just at her waist. There each time I softly ran my fingers along her spine she thrust herself down harder, impaling herself further on the spike I was now driving into her guts.

Her mouth locked on mine, soon she was moaning into me. Sliding my lips downward, I began to kiss and lick her throat and neck, while rubbing her upper body against me in little circles. Our bodies were slipping in the slick perspiration bathing us. And all the time my hands were teasing and touching her back, especially the hollow at her waist. All the while my loins were withdrawing my cock then sliding back into her.

I could feel her body tensing, an electricity began building within her, and I pulled almost out then paused with only the cockhead inside her thirsting vagina.

I looked up into her eyes, "I am going to give you a cum, now, my woman. Scream for me!"

And I reamed my cock deep within her until my pubis ground against hers, and there I kept it. Grinding my pubic bone against her clit, spasming my cock head and shaft within her and punishing her cervix with sensation. I held her against my body such that she could barely breath. She gave a great gasp and then froze. Looking into her eyes, I saw the lust-madness again. I sucked hard at her throat, leaving a mark for her to see for days, while one hand ran down her ass and into her crack. When I reached her rosebud I crammed just the tip of a finger in and she screamed.

Her body locked up, no muscle was loose, and for an instant I feared she was straining so hard she might break a bone. When the tension suddenly broke, she went into convulsions as wave after wave of contractions swept through her body. My cock was almost crushed by the walls of her cunt, the walls that had been so soft and clinging just a moment before.

Jesus God, she was an incredible lover.

When the waves of feeling began to lessen I began moving inside her again. My pace increased until soon I was driving, driving into her. Hard, fast, ruthlessly I fucked into her. Still loving her, but now almost brutally I fucked into her. Desperate now for my own release, I had to come to the little death for myself. And to my astonishment this wonder of women responded, the orgasm reversed itself and began growing again. Suddenly she screamed again, and her convulsions were on her again, and she sucked the sperm from my balls, and sucked again. I spurted into her, time and time again. My cockhead was shoved, crammed to the end of her channel. My spend shot directly into her womb, as I shoved and shoved and pushed never once withdrawing. Until at last, I just held my self as deep within her accepting body as I could reach, and held there and completed my ejaculation.

Then I collapsed, and Helen collapsed on top of me. I held her and mumbled my love for her and she lay atop me, little ripples running through her every so often as her body relived its recent glory. She was kissing my shoulder, throat and face, every where she could reach with little kisses. She was murmuring little half heard endearments as we slowly relaxed into the post orgasmic realm so often sought and so seldom achieved.

We both awoke when the sun began to force its way over the hills to the east. I gave Helen still laying atop me a small kiss and she smiled down at me. I rolled her over beside me and began searching for our clothes where we had tossed them last night. She smiled when she saw I was just folding them over my arm, hers intermixed with mine. I noticed that look in her eyes again, but knew it was too early for that and I was too old for her anyway.

When I had located everything, we picked up our blankets and the pillows. Slipping our feet into the shoes we had yanked off the night before we walked naked back down to the motorhome parked below us. The gold light of the new day washing us in it’s splendor.

Holding hands.
 
 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The End (Maybe)
 
 

I have kind of grown to care for Duncan and Helen. If someone else, enough someone elses, would like to spend more time with them, write and tell me. I am sure that they will tell me more of their adventures, triumphs and defeats if anyone cares to read.

As always I am reachable at esleyc@excite.com
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHANCE A Day in May