Gifted Grifter Ch. 10

She called her brother to tell him she was leaving for New York; she told him she would leave the truck at their parents' house if he wanted it back. She also asked if he could keep an eye on her condo and grab any stuff that was left in the place after her now ex-boyfriend moved out.

Then she called her mother and told her she'd be stopping by in a little while with some news and wanted to make sure she was home.

We got to Oklahoma City; Julie gave me directions to the Ryder truck rental. Then she dropped me off, giving me directions on how to find her mother's house. "Come pick me up once you have the truck, but give me at least a half-hour." Renting the truck was not fast; it was at least 45 minutes before I rolled up in front of the address Julie gave me. The red pickup in the driveway made it easy to find. Julie must have been listening for me—an escape route perhaps—because she popped out the door as soon as I pulled up.

There was no mistaking Julie's mother—the physical resemblance was obvious. Based on what I knew she had to be somewhere around 45, but you'd have guessed something at least ten year less than that. She had natural blonde hair like Julie, but even more she had an amazing body for her age—her legs were still shapely, and while she wasn't muscular from exercise like Julie, she had no excess fat on her body. Secretly, I was very happy to see this, because they say that if you want to see what your wife/girlfriend will look like when she's old, look at her mother. Well, Julie's mother was clearly a MILF (Mom I'd Like to Fuck). Julie's home life may have been hell growing up, but she did inherit a killer set of genes.

I got out of the cab, but by the time I did Julie had already grabbed everything out of the back of the pickup and turned the keys over to her mom. I opened up the back of the truck and Julie tossed the stuff in; she was clearly trying to control the conversation with her mother. She couldn't avoid a "who's this?" from her mom, though.

"This is Tom," she said, using the false name I had given her when I first met her in Vegas. "He's helping me move. I'll call with more details when I have them. Don't worry, I'll be OK." She gave her mom a hug and a kiss and just like that we were in the truck moving.

"Tom?" I asked as we drove away.

"They don't need to know," she replied. "Maybe this way it will be harder for them to find us and beg for money once we hit it big."

I didn't know what to say.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up outside of her condo.

"Will your boyfriend be home?" I asked. We hadn't discussed how this confrontation was going to go.

"Bill? No, he shouldn't be; I told him I was going to Austin for a few days, so he decided to go visit his parents in Nebraska," she said. "I don't expect him until late tonight or tomorrow, and I don't see his car parked in its usual spot."

"So what's the plan?" I asked. This was her condo; I was going to along with whatever she wanted to do on this one.

"With any luck, we'll be in and out of here before he gets here," she said.

"What do I do?" I asked, as I followed her up the stairs to her door.

She unlocked the door, then handed me keys, singling out the key to the storage area in the basement. "There's a bunch of plastic storage boxes down there; throw them on the truck." She went inside.

After I loaded the boxes, I went upstairs to see what I could do next. I heard noises coming from somewhere down a back hallway, presumably a bedroom. There was a breakfast kitchen counter; I saw that on it there was a note:

Dear Bill:

Since you refuse to leave even though I've asked you to, I'm leaving instead. The condo will be listed for sale at once; you have until the end of the month to vacate the premises or I will have the Sheriff's department remove you. I will make arrangements to pick up anything of mine that I haven't already taken with me. My brother will be keeping an eye on things; if you damage anything you will be sorry.

You have taken advantage of my kindness for the last time. Goodbye.

Julie

PS Don't bother trying to call me--I'll be living in another state.

Julie came down the hall with a large moving box that was barely staying closed on account of the mountain of shoes it contained. She saw me reading the note.

"So what do you think of my note?" she asked.

"I sure hope I never piss you off like that," I replied.

She put the box down and gave me a quick kiss "And don't you forget it," she added with a smile.

"You realize—he'll probably think you're going back to your old life in Vegas," I said.

"I don't give fuck what he thinks," she replied, "besides, he doesn't know what I did for living there anyway. He knows I made a lot of money, though; I think he figures I was a stripper or something. I'm pretty sure that's what my stepbrother thinks too."

I wrapped my arms around her and whispered "Hmm, you think I can get a table dance?"

She got a mischievous look on her face and replied, "I'll have to see the size of the tip," touching my crotch when she said the word "tip." She didn't mean money.

But we wanted to get out fast, so play time would have to wait. I helped Julie empty the rest of her clothes into boxes and take them to the van.

As for the rest, it was hard to decide what to take. We had every expectation of being able to buy new and better almost any practical, everyday thing we might need. But if she left them in the condo, she figured that Bill would take most of them when he left. "He seems to think everything is his—he forgets that most of the stuff here I had before he came." She decided to take dresser that she was attached to, a few pictures, mementos and knick-knacks, and a few of her favorite everyday and kitchen items. Finally there were a few last minute linens, books, CDs and DVDs, software and her laptop, then we closed up the truck and locked up the condo, leaving Julie's old life behind her. She never looked back as I pulled the truck away.

We started driving west, but it had already been a long day so we only drove about an hour or so before stopping for the night in Weatherford. Weatherford is home to Oklahoma State University, so I figured there had to be some sort of nightlife somewhere. I offered to take Julie out, but she was only interested in dinner. I took her out for the best steak in town according to the concierge, then we went back to the hotel.

Given the lifting and all, I suggested we hit the hot tub. Julie was young and worked out more than I; she would probably be fine, but I didn't want to be driving 15 hours the next day with a sore back. The hot tub felt good on my tired body, and fortunately the pool area was deserted except for us. Julie and I sat side-by-side, each of us in front of a water jet.

"How are you feeling?" I asked Julie.

"I'm glad that's over," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't introduce you to more of my family; it's just...well, the less time I spend with them, the better."

"Oh, Julie," I said, putting my arm around her while she leaned over and put her head on my shoulder. "Your life...it feels like it's been so...bleak. You deserve SO much better..."

"There's nothing you can do about my past," Julie said. Then lifting her head to look into my eyes, she said "but maybe you can help make the future be better."

"I want to buy you one of everything in the world," I said. "I feel like life owes it to you."

"What that would really make my life better," she said, "you can't buy." She sat down in my lap, facing me, her knees on the submerged bench of the pool, my legs between hers. She put her arms around me.

"If you mean me," I said, "well, you already have that." I loved the look in her eye when I said that. We locked in a long kiss.

When the kiss was over, having her bikini-clad body pressed up against mine and sitting on my crotch, I was hard. I wasn't going to fuck her in the public area, though, and besides—sex in a hot tub is a yeast infection waiting to happen. But there was no mistaking the feeling of my dick pressing against her crotch in the pool, so she got up and gave me sly nod to follow her out of the pool.

We toweled off on the way to the room, but were still quite salty—something that became apparent when we started to kiss, which we did immediately upon entering the room.

"What do you say to a shower?" Julie asked.

I say YES! But on the outside, I just gave her a huge grin and stroked her chin.

She went in first, and started the water to get it up to temperature. Then she started to remove her bikini; she went a deliberate pace, knowing I was watching, wanting to make something of a show out of it, but not wanting to play stripper in her wet and salty state. Me, well, I had my trunks down in a matter of nanoseconds—which left me in the somewhat awkward position, standing there naked with a full hard-on but having nothing to do with my hands, at least until we got into the shower. The humor of my ridiculousness was not lost on Julie; her sexy mood was broken by her inability to keep from snickering at how pathetic I looked. I played along by pretending to pout.

She stepped into the tub, saying "C'mon, get in here... we wouldn't want to be lonely, now would we." The first part was directed at me; the second at my Johnson.

I stepped in, and we kissed under the shower head like we were naked in the rain. She kept one hand free to keep stroking my penis—perhaps she was already familiar with the negative effect that showers can sometimes have on erections. But between her gentle hands and my running my own hands up and down her back, I wasn't having any trouble staying up, even after soaping up. I started to reach for the shampoo, but Julie didn't let me reach it. She put both arms on my shoulder now, while lifting one leg up on a ledge that was at normal tub height. She was clearly inviting me in.

"Um, are we gonna slip and fall?" I asked.

She gave a false frown. "Trust me," she said.

OK. A slight redirection with my hand and my penis slipped easily into Julie's belly. I started sliding myself in and out, but it wasn't the most graceful fuck you've ever seen. For one thing, I was a few inches taller than she, and while she had legs that didn't quit her crotch was nevertheless closer to the ground than mine. Putting her leg up helped, but I had to bend my knees in order to thrust—but the knee bending also tended to push her away from me. For another thing, I was afraid of slipping in the shower, so I was trying to fuck while minimizing my shifting of weight kind of defeated the purpose.

Leave it to my honey to solve the problem. She moved the leg that was up from the ledge so that it wrapped around my thigh instead. Then with a slight giddy-up, she wrapped the other leg around my other thigh. I clutched her, afraid she was going to fall—silly me, she was more than capable of carrying her own weight.

Now, her pelvis was at the perfect angle—in fact, gravity pushed her mound down so that my dick was all the way in. I shifted my hands so that I held one of her buttocks in each—and then I started fucking. Julie wrapped her arms tight around my neck to help support herself. She kissed me while impaled on my penis, but then as my thrusting grew more insistent she leaned back and allowed my pushing to bob her entire torso up and down. With my hands on her ass, I had almost total control on where her hips went—and where they went was right down on my cock. And I didn't have to move my feet, so we were in less danger of falling down.

But the water in my face distracted right as I would start really getting into it, and I think maybe it was doing it to her to. So I stopped thrusting; she responded by pulling herself back in close to me. Then, with my penis still enshrined between her thighs and her body still wrapped around mine, I stepped out of the tub.

There was a relatively substantial counter in the bathroom; I gently placed her ass down on it, making sure that her pelvis was flush with the edge of the counter for maximum penetration. She kept her legs wrapped around me, but now she didn't have to fight her weight in gravity while doing so. This gave me greater flexibility of movement, so I was able to increase the amplitude of my strokes. She leaned back some, so that now she held my neck only with her clasped hands. I kept stroking in and out. We were dripping wet; one pool was collecting on the countertop under her, one on the floor under me. We didn't give a shit. My penis was drinking in the sweet nectar that was my Julie's pussy. I don't know how she pulls that trick where she somehow flexes the muscles around her vagina to make it tighter—I think I read somewhere its kind of the same movement as when a girl is holding her bladder—but I can tell you it feels GOOD. I could feel her walls encircling me, gripping me with every movement in and out.

There was no drain on the floor. Thus, ironically, by coming out of the shower, the puddle of drip I was standing in was now putting me more danger of slipping than I had been in tub. I leaned in towards my Julie so I could put my hands down on countertop on either side of her to help me maintain balance. She responded by curling her pelvis upwards so that my penis could continue to drive straight into her depths despite the change in 'angle of attack' so to speak. When it came to making sex pleasurable for her partner, Julie never missed a thing.

The other thing that Julie did when I reached over her was not specifically intended to increase my pleasure, but actually had a greater effect. My face was not closer to hers, and she looked into my eyes, her pupils dilated with arousal, her expression a strange combination of physical arousal and internal calm. The message it sent was that she was happy to be looking up at me while I fucked her, a message that said more clearly than words that I was the man she wanted to have inside of her. And there is nothing sexier or more beautiful than to be wanted.

I was entranced by how beautiful she was as she lay open before me, like a flower opening its petals to the sun. I bent closer to her to give her a kiss; she put her hands around my neck and kissed me. Her lips were almost unbelievably soft, her kiss loving and gentle. Oh my god; how did I manage this? I wasn't just fucking a goddamn goddess, I was fucking a goddamn goddess that was totally into me, giving me everything she had. The feeling was overwhelming, both emotionally and sexually; I felt my dick get rigid, then stood there almost paralyzed by the pleasurable sensations washing over me as my nuts disbursed their payload.

I collapsed on top of my honey, holding her, dripping onto her. Damn the water; long after my orgasm subsided, I held my Julie, kissing her as she lay in her own puddle on the counter.

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The next day we had a 15-hour drive to Vegas. She had on short shorts and flip-flops again, but this time she wore a spaghetti-strap camisole top. I don't know what kind of bra she had on under it; I could see that there were straps, but at the same time a LOT of her tits were hanging out on top. I could have easily, at any time, slipped a hand down her shirt and grabbed a mittful of tit. It was very, very hard to resist doing so.

Knowing we would be spending all day in the truck, I insisted we stop and buy a rebroadcaster for my IPOD so I could play it over the truck radio while driving—I could NOT handle fifteen hours of country music. Julie wasn't particular about what was playing, but as I expected she hadn't heard of most of what I had on my nano. She was open minded, though, and some of it she seemed to like right off the bat, especially if it had a dance beat.

We also had lots of time to talk. I did most of the driving; Julie was fine on wide open spaces, but she got nervous driving the truck through winding roads or anywhere off the Interstate.

Somewhere in New Mexico I asked "If you don't mind me asking," I said, "how did you end up living with Bill?" She was wearing a seat belt, but she had drawn up her knees to her chin and was hugging them in place. She was turned at about a 45 degree angle towards me.

"I met him at school, at OCCC. He was cute, and he was nice to me. That put him ahead of most of the guys I met. We dated a few times, we had sex," she continued, "it seemed like all the things normal people do. He told me he was having problems with a roommate, so I invited him to live with me. Now, I understand why he might have had problems with a roommate—he probably thought he owned that place, too."

"Did you love him?" I asked her.

"At one time I thought so, but looking back on it, no. It was more like the puppy loves you have in high school, where you think it's going to last forever, but in reality six months later you can't understand what you ever saw in the guy. I guess I've never been in love," she said, laying her head sideways atop her knees and looking at me with a vulnerable look, "at least, not until now."

I really wanted to kiss her, but I was driving a friggin' truck. Not a good idea.

I did take my free hand and stroked her cheek with it. "I love you, Julie," I said. She lifted her head upright, took my hand, and gently kissed it.

"My feelings for you—they're different from anything I've felt before," she continued. "It makes me afraid—all I want is to be with you, but part of me feels like I should keep some distance because it would hurt so much to lose you."

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart," I replied. "It must be hard to believe, it seems like everyone else in your life has let you down—but I am determined not to be another name on that list."

"Aunt Betty," she said distantly.

"Hmm?" I asked.

"My Aunt Betty—she never let me down. No matter how crazy things were at my house, I could ride my bike to Aunt Betty's house and she'd be there for me," she said. "I don't know how many times I lay in her lap and cried and cried. I don't know if I'd have survived without her."

"She was your island of sanity," I said.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Resilient kids...kids that grow up in hellish environments, yet somehow manage to grow up to be decent human beings in spite of it—one of the things they all have is a person somewhere in their life that they can turn to, an island of sanity in their lives," I explained. "I'll bet you grew up wanting to be like Aunt Betty, not like the other crazy people in your life."

It was silent for a while.

"What became of Aunt Betty?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I stopped calling her when I ran away. I knew she would want to know what I was doing, and I couldn't lie to her. I figured it would break her heart to know that little Julie grew up to be a whore." I heard her sniffle. "I haven't spoken to her in five years." She put her head down in her hands atop her knees, crying.

I put my hand gently on her head. "Julie," I said, "your Aunt Betty is your island of sanity—she's not going to shun you because of things you once did to stay alive. Not to mention, you haven't done that in almost a year now."

"Okay, let me ask you a question, if you don't mind my asking," she said, trying to imitate my manner of speaking with the last phrase. "You and your glasses, you have the world at your command. Why are you wasting your time on a washed-up ex-hooker?"

"I am more than happy to spend my time," I replied, "with a woman who's much to beautiful for a guy like me, who's too young for a guy like me, who's probably too nice for a guy like me, and maybe even too smart for a guy like me. Look at the faces of people that look at you next time we stop for gas or something—its clear that you, my dear, are completely out of my league, and it is only by dumb luck that you are with me at all."