A Different World Ch. 02

"Kenny!" she exclaimed in horror. "I can't!"

"Folks," I said into the mic, "I understand this woman has a wonderful voice, but she's a little bit shy. Maybe y'all could encourage her to sing one for ya!" The crowd erupted in applause as Calvin mouthed "What are you doing?"

"Trust me," I mouthed back. I started playing a song I was pretty sure she knew. Calvin knew what I was doing, and started playing the same song. But I wasn't sure Edie would recognize it, they way we played it on guitar and banjo. So, as I handed the microphone to Edie, I mouthed "Umbrella."

TO Edie's credit, she rose to the occasion, and after a tentative start she killed the song. It was the same arrangement we'd first played the day we met Von, and it worked for Edie too. Edie's voice was a bit higher than Von's sexy growl. But the higher pitch of her voice worked with the song too, and I was impressed. The audience was too, and as I let Edie take her seat they erupted in applause.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering the festival with Calvin, his wife and their two boys. My nephews took an instant liking to Edie, and it was an enjoyable time eating funnel cakes and cotton candy.

We performed the second set in the dying rays of the setting sun. Edie sat in the audience, clapping along to our music. We did get her back up on stage for another performance of Umbrella. It seems the bug had bit, and she wasn't afraid of being in front of a crowd anymore. I later found out that she and Von liked to go to karaoke together, though they hadn't done so lately.

As the sunset faded away, we all took a seat on the grass for the fireworks display before bidding Calvin and the family goodnight. Edie helped me carry the banjo and guitar back to the truck, before we retired to the room for another night of leisurely lovemaking.

The next morning, we had breakfast with Calvin and the family before they had to leave for home. Calvin had to work that afternoon. He was a ranger in the national forest, and had swapped his normal shift with a coworker so as not to have to drive half the night then report for duty at 7am. But he still had to be at work by 3.

Before they left, he pulled me to the side. "She's a really good singer," He said. "Are you two serious? I'd love to do more gigs with her if you are."

"I don't know where this is headed," I told him. "I hope it's serious. She's a great girl. But we live so far away from each other. I'm just going to take it one day at a time and enjoy her when I can."

"Just don't hurt her. She seems sweet and she obviously adores you."

After they left we still had two full days to spend. Edie had never been to the mountains before, so we went exploring. Edie asked about my work, so I decided to take her to Virginia to show her. We bought some burgers before we left town, and I made a jug of sun tea for us to drink. I'd filled my cooler with ice from the motel's ice machine, so we were set.

Among the items I always kept in the truck was a portable grill, and charcoal. Often, after we quit work for the day, I'd have a little cookout. It saved me some money, as did making jugs of tea instead of drinking Pepsi. I lived frugally and put as much money aside as I could afford. From what I knew, Edie also seemed to live a frugal life, so I hoped she wouldn't mind. Besides, where I was taking her was so remote that there weren't many places to eat.

We followed US 250 south and east out of Elkins, down the Tygart Valley, which started out miles wide but got progressively narrower as we went. "It's so beautiful," Edie said of the distant mountain ridges.

I pointed to the ridge on the left. "We're going over the top of that one, and beyond it are many more."

At Huttonsville, we left the valley and started our winding climb over Cheat Mountain. I hoped Edie wasn't the type to get carsick, as the two-lane road wound in that typical West Virginia way. If she got carsick it was going to be a long, miserable day. The further east 250 went, the windier it got.

Once we topped the ridge, the road was relatively straight through the spruce forests of the Shavers Fork valley. The river was only a couple hundred feet lower than the ridge top. We were now among some of the highest mountains in the state. And Edie was watching in awe as we rolled through landscapes unlike anything she'd ever seen before. We crossed the river and started to gentle climb to the Gaudineer, where the road topped Shavers Mountain at close to 4000 feet, then dropped 1300 feet down the side of the ridge to Durbin. And here was where Edie fell in love with my world.

"Look at that view!" she exclaimed. "It's heavenly!"

East of Durbin we crossed the state line into the rain shadow. I pointed out how much drier it was on this side of the mountains. Gone were the spruce trees and thickets of Rhododendron, replaced by pines and oaks on rocky slopes with very little ground level foliage. I always loved the drier areas. I'd grown up in a similar place, and it always felt like home.

In no time we were at the job site. They were replacing a small worn out bridge with a new one, and straightening out a curve in the process. We parked the truck and I walked her through the site, climbing the bank to show her the stakes we'd placed to mark the new alignment of the roadway. My crew was not around, probably working on a related project we were doing a couple miles further down the road.

Edie had worn jeans at my insistence. As I had pointed out, we were in snake country, and even though it was too warm for them to be out sunning themselves, they lived in the rock outcrops beside the roads. Long pants provided at least a little bit of protection against snakebite. I explained to her that she didn't need to be worried, just aware that they were there, and alert. Rattlesnakes would let you know they were there before they struck. If we heard the telltale rattle, she was not to panic, but to slowly move away from the noise. Leave them alone and they'll leave you alone.

We walked to line of stakes that showed where the right of way ended. This was the property line the construction crews were not to cross. I explained to her that we still had one more line of stakes to place. These were the ones that marked the tops of the slopes. The plan was for the slope to be cut back to a 30 degree angle above the road, in order to lessen the possibility of landslides and fallen rock on the roadway. This line posed the biggest problem for the engineers, as their placement had to be carefully calculated from the roadway stakes, taking into account the difference in elevation of the proposed road, and the height of the hillside above. My crew couldn't place these stakes until the engineers gave us the locations in which they were to be placed, and they couldn't calculate those until we'd marked the roadway. The irony of it all was that, while those roadway stakes were key to the whole project, they'd be the ones we removed first during construction, as the bulldozers dug into the ground where they were located.

I don't know how much of this Edie followed. I explained a complicated procedure the best I could. What I do know is that she took in everything, never seeming bored. Welcome to my world, Edie.

We left the construction site and headed north on 220, finding a roadside picnic table on the way. There, I fired up the grill and made us lunch, the scent of burning charcoal mingling with the pine trees. I scrounged in the truck for sugar packets to sweeten Edie's tea, explaining that I drank mine unsweetened. It kept longer without sugar in it. It was a habit I'd long ago picked up from my days camping in the forest, where ice was unavailable.

Lunch done, we continued north back into West Virginia, turning left at Franklin and heading over North Fork Mountain on 33. I glanced at Edie as we wound our way up the mountain, rock outcrops capping the mountain that towered above us. Topping the ridge on a hairpin turn through a low gap in the ridge, we started the long descent into the Germany Valley. Edie gasped in awe at the view. "Just when I think I've seen the most beautiful place on earth, you take me someplace even more spectacular."

But the highlight of the day was yet to come. My intention had been to show her Seneca Rocks, a vertical outcrop that towered 1 thousand feet above the valley below, then make our way back to Elkins for dinner. Edie, though had other ideas. Upon sight of those rocks she started asking questions. What did it look like from up there? Did you have to rock climb to get there? If not, was there a path to the top? I told her I didn't know, but knew where to find out. We went to the general store at the t intersection nearby, and asked the owner.

The answer was: no, you didn't have to climb the face to get to the top. There was a path up the mountain that rose behind the rocks. You could hike to the top, but it was a grueling climb. Edie didn't care. She wanted to go to the top anyway. Her enthusiasm reminded me so much of my cousin Jason, and the adventures he'd talked me into when we were kids.

And so, we parked the truck, grabbed my daypack out of the back, loaded up the tea jug, and took off. I would have preferred Edie had boots on, but she only had sneaks. If she wanted to go hiking in the future I'd buy her some boots.

The first half mile of the hike was easy. We crossed the river that ran along the base of the rocks on a swinging footbridge, then followed a rough dirt road through the hollow that pierced the rocks themselves. It turned out the rocks were actually a 50-foot-wide layer that had been turned on end. Once again I thought of my cousin. Rocks fascinated him. He'd love this shit.

Once behind the upturned rocks, we found the path off to our left. The store owner hadn't lied. It WAS a grueling climb, maybe a quarter mile straight up the mountainside that rose parallel to the rocks. It was so steep, in places we had to use the trees along the path to pull ourselves up the slope. Edie, for your first hike, you sure picked a doozy. But she was a trooper.

Finally, exhausted and out of breath, we reached the top of the slope and came out on top. After sitting and drinking the tea, we decided to explore a little. The rock layer, it turned out, was comprised of several layers, all tilted vertically and broken off at different heights. It was possible to pick our way out toward the highest points above the ground through a groove where one layer had broken off while the other layers rose several feet above it, forming a sort of corridor we could travel without fear of plummeting over the edge. We followed it as far as we could, eventually reaching a place where the rocks dropped away, and further progress was impossible without climbing gear. Reluctantly, we turned back.

Retracing our steps to where we'd originally topped the rocks, we sat down to enjoy the spectacular view. The sun was dipping towards the horizon, but Edie was transfixed. I looked at my watch: it was now after 8. We'd need to be starting down if we wanted to get back to the truck before dark.

"Do you have a flashlight in that pack?" Edie asked.

"Yes," I said, pulling it out to make sure it worked.

"Then we don't need to go just yet," Edie insisted. "Let's watch the sun set."

Why was I such a sucker for her? Why couldn't I say no, knowing that it would be difficult to get back down that slope in the dark? But I couldn't tell her no. So, I sat, arm around her, as we watched the sun disappear behind the high mountain to the west. She gazed, fascinated, as the sky turned from yellow to orange, to pink then finally purple. We watched as a million stars filled the sky. Finally, Edie turned to me and said, "Let's get outa here." We carefully picked our way back down the treacherous path in the dim light of the flashlight, me helping her down the roughest patches. A couple of times we lost out balance, landing on our asses laughing hysterically. But we made it down with nothing more than a few cuts and scratches.

Driving over the mountains to Elkins under starry skies, a quarter moon behind us. We arrived in Elkins around midnight, and with no place open to eat we were forced to fire up the grill in the parking lot of the motel. Surprisingly, nobody said anything to us though I know they had to smell the smoke. We tried to be as quiet as possible.

After we ate, I joined Edie in the shower. We were both tired and sweaty from our adventure, and the warm water soothed us. I tried not to get too frisky in the shower, as the condoms were in the other room. But Edie was having none of it. As I washed her back she bent over and drove that delectable ass back into me. I was already erect, and before I knew what she was up to I was buried deep within her.

"Edie," I gasped. "The rubbers."

"I'm on the pill," she said. I breathed a sigh of relief. Above all, I didn't want her pregnant. Not now. Not like this, separated by hundreds of miles and only able to see each other once in a blue moon. A pregnancy would irrevocably change both of our lives. "If you feel better you can pull out. I don't mind if you come on my back."

At that point, lust took over and I grabbed those wide hips and pounded into her tiny body. She felt so good, tightening around me. My hand found her clit, rubbing her little button as she bucked into me. My little lady was a firecracker. And we were both about to pop.

Honestly, I forgot to pull out. She just felt too good. I loved feeling her raw, no barrier between us. Her juices coating my dick as I pistoned into her welcoming hole. With a groan, I drove into her hard, holding her still by the hips as I emptied myself deep inside her. Reluctantly, with rubbery legs, I pulled out as my spasms subsided. I no longer had the strength to stand.

Sitting on the floor of the tub, water cascading over my head, I asked her, "Did you come too?"

"No, baby," she replied. "I was right there, but you beat me to it. But it's ok. It feels good to have your juice inside me." She turned to face me, and I could see the remains of our encounter seeping from her opening. I stared, as fascinated by the contrast against her skin as I was in the difference between our own skin tones.

Edie hadn't come with me. No matter what she'd said, that was unacceptable. She'd just let me spill inside her for the first time. She deserved hers too. I reached up, stroking her clit. In response, she lifted one leg to the edge of the tub, giving me full access. I worked two fingers inside her, our combined fluids lubricating my way. Stroking my fingers in and out I felt her tightening around me. She was close. Her legs were starting to shake.

Feeling around inside her body, I found that spongy spot that seemed to set her off. Her response was a deep guttural moan I'd never heard from her before, and she clamped her thighs around my hand as she whispered, "Right there. Don't stop." I rubbed the spot gently as she came undone, shaking in her pleasure with breathless scream. She bathed my hand with her juices, eyes closed, mouth open.

Neither of us could stand at this point. Turning off the water, we dried each other off then crawled exhausted to the bed.

"Thank you," she said, "for the most amazing day ever."

"Thank you for being so beautiful," I replied.

We spent the next day recovering from our adventure. In the morning, I looked over her naked form to see what damage we'd done on our nighttime hike. Other than a couple cuts and scratches she was fine. She did have a blister on her heel, though it wasn't bad. I told her no more hikes without boots.

That afternoon we went to Wal Mart where I bought her some hiking boots. "Now you have to come see me again," I said.

"Most definitely," she replied.

We had a nice lunch in town before retreating to the motel where we cuddled naked watching James Bond on TV. We let our hands wander playfully, feeling like two teenagers discovering sex for the first time. I hadn't felt this way about a woman in a long time. I always enjoyed sex, But Edie brought it to another level. Being with her was spiritual, and the act was more worshipping her body than the lustful sex I'd been used to. I knew that no matter what happened in the future, Edie would be the standard that no other woman would ever measure up to.

To be continued...