One Night with Mrs McFie

Rick Dash was on a 400-mile walk, alone with nothing to prove. The boss had ordered him to take time off because in the past three years he'd taken off only official holidays simply because on those occasions the entire plant closed down.

It had been three years since Rick's marriage broke up and the subsequent divorce so he hadn't done much socializing from the day his wife tossed him that bombshell. Amy had always organized the socializing and after she left him for that bastard Fitzgerald he'd not wanted a lot to do with women.

Mr Masters told him to get out and live life for a month. Rick would remain on full salary.

"What could I do with all that time?"

"Fly to Guam or perhaps go whoring in Mexico. My boy your options are limitless. In your position I'd go fishing and whoring. If you can't decide on anything, just get up and go."

So the chief engineer who headed the eleven specialists that kept the plant running to produce garden furniture and outdoor decorative art sold in thirteen countries, decided to just head out of town and start walking. The destination he picked was 404 miles away. That should soak up time.

It was early fall so Rick thought he'd walk ten miles the first day and increase that distance by two miles a day until he could average twenty miles a day but making adjustments to finish each afternoon somewhere large enough to rent a room for the night and bath his feet. That should take him about twenty-two days to complete his journey, more if he stayed over any where but if his feet held up he'd avoid doing that. He'd been walking five miles every night on pavements to break in his tramping boots and toughen up his feet. He wore steel-capped boots every day at work so thought his feet would be partly conditioned. God he wasn't walking across Arizona or the Sahara.

The thirty-seven year old who was fit through gym workouts and swimming finished up at work on Friday at 4:00 and set off next morning. The first day was a breeze and the days that followed were even easier. What he liked about it was he had time to smell the flowers, as they say. People who stopped to offer him a ride often wanted to chat, so he remained patient, knowing he could walk into the twilight if necessary. Sometimes the people who stopped offered him accommodation en route and he accepted a couple of those but found it meant getting away late each morning because he couldn't be rude an leave early after receiving friendly hospitality.

One thing Rick hadn't thought of was the huge amount of thinking time he'd have. At home he pottered around and went to the gym. It was a new lifestyle for him on the road. He began to think about finding feminine company again.

Approaching mid-afternoon on his second last day on the road, Rick entered the small village and knew this would be the tough one, the smallest community en route. It might have a rooming house but that was unlikely. His best hope was it had a bar and he might fall into conversation with someone who'd offer him a bed for the night. He hadn't missed out getting a bed so far so his optimism held. It was raining but he had a change of clothes sealed in plastic in his backpack.

On the outskirts of the village he saw a woman beside her house spinning the wheels of her mired vehicle, digging the ruts even deeper. He ran over and yelled, "Switch off your motor."

Although startled she obeyed.

He opened the driver's door and now the redhead looked frightened.

"It's okay I'm on a hiking vacation. Your vehicle is mired. I can extricate the vehicle if the car has a jack and you can show me where there are two planks."

"What will you do?" said the woman in her late twenties.

"Free your car. That's what you want isn't it?"

"Well yes. But you'll get wet."

"I'm already wet."

The woman got out and putting up an umbrella said, "I'll open the trunk. You'll find the jack there. Here let me take your backpack. I'll put it in the dry on the front porch."

She opened the trunk with her remote and Rick handed her the backpack.

"This is a foreign vehicle. Is it front or rear wheel drive?"

"I wouldn't know. I just drive it. It has reverse gear if you wish to go backwards."

Rick sighed and bit back a comment about where were women when brains were given out.

The vehicle was front-wheel drive. Rick was surprised she'd got it stuck but when the jack sank just by its own weight he realized the ground was water-logged and beyond the front wheels. He pushed the jack in the slot under the vehicle and jacked. The base of the jack sank perhaps eight inches until it hit firmer ground.

She was standing beside him holding the umbrella over him.

"Don't, you'll get wet."

"I feel awful you getting wet on my behalf."

"I really would prefer you not getting wet. I'm already soaked."

"I couldn't find planks, only blocks of firewood and tools and the lawnmower and an old car cover."

"Car cover. What is it made of?"

"Stuff."

Rick breathed through his nose heavily until that flashpoint dissipated. She looked highly intelligent but had gaps. Well he couldn't arrange flowers or bear to change diapers so he wasn't such a hotshot was he?

"Take me to it."

"To what?"

"The old car cover made of stuff."

They sloshed to the detached garage beyond the back of the house.

He said conversationally, "This is good shelter for rats."

She moved closer and took his arm, saying she had never seen any.

The cover wasn't canvas but some poly-something that probably was even stronger.

"This will do. I'll place it under the front wheels and then get to you reverse the car very slowly. This material will give the tires just enough grip providing you go very slowly and I push."

"It would be better to go forward."

"There's an even deeper bog in front of the car. Probably a drain is blocked if this driveway doesn't usually block in the wet."

"It doesn't. Are there really rats there?"

"Where?"

"In the garage."

"Dunno. Borrow someone's fox terrier and take it in there, closing the doors. It will soon sort things out for you, either yawning or going into a frenzy and ripping around looking for vermin."

"God you are hugely intelligent."

Rick laughed. "You're wrong about that. I'm an engineer, sneered at by professions that exalt themselves more."

"Including prostitutes?"

"I wouldn't know and any way what do you know about prostitution?"

She hesitated and asked how did the conversation switch to that. Rick said he couldn't recall being the instigator.

She wiped water from her face and said ever so seriously, "Well I know it's an essential community service and it's called the oldest profession."

While she was pontificating that, Rick had folded half of the length of the car cover several times and pushed the cover under the car and pulled the unfolded section back and under the jacked up front wheel.

"You are getting very muddy."

"Yes, it's because the rain has saturated the soil, turning it into mud."

She said she knew that. What she meant was she was embarrassed he was getting so wet and so muddy on her account.

"But you were a damsel in distress."

"What?"

"I had no choice but to rescue you."

"Oooh."

Rick chose to leave that conversation there. He lowered the vehicle and took the jack to the other side of the car, his supervisor following.

Once he had raised the wheel he slid on his belly under the front of the vehicle and unwrapped the second half of the cover to drag it under the raised left-hand wheel.

"Ohmigod, you're placing yourself in danger!"

Christ, she was panicking him. He knew the base of this jack this time seemed rather wobbly. But all was well and it lowered without mishap.

"You are brilliant," she said admiringly, her green eyes sparkling.

His heart flipped. Wow, what a honey.

"Well before too much praise let's see if we can get this lady out of this crap."

"How did you know my car was female?"

"Most people regard boats, planes, trains and cars as female."

"I never knew that."

"Well just let's say people who know about the wave theory of light and Boolean lattice know such things but don't know where to find the salt in the supermarket."

"Now that's a very complex thought, too tough for me I'm afraid."

"What do you do?"

"I teach art at high school in the city. Oh I'm Fiona McFie. I'm almost ready to return to tutoring. I've been living out here. My husband went away with another woman almost a month ago and I felt so humiliated and couldn't cope. He's called saying he'll be back soon."

"That's sad Mrs McFie. I'm Rick Dash. Please call me Rick."

"Oh I will. Now tell me what to do to extricate my vehicle, as you term it."

Rick told her.

Fiona started the car and he made sure she'd selected reverse.

"Now gently, gently Fiona. Imagine you are driving over thin ice and if you accelerate too much you'll plunge through the ice and expire."

"Expire?" she asked nervously but received no reply.

Rick placed his shoulder against the fairly solid edge when the hood joined the engine compartment cowling and worked a hand under the front bumper.

He waved with his free hand and Fiona did her bit and slowly the car eased backwards and was freed.

"Okay beautifully done Fiona. Now leave the vehicle here because you're on a metal base and if we try to go to the garage you'll bog again."

"I was on my way to get meat for dinner."

"Oh fine off you go. Just remember when you return to stop where the car is now. I'll poke around to see if I can find the blocked outlet it will take a couple of days without rain to dry out. Then you should dump more crushed rock into the new ruts. And good luck with your marriage or dumping him should you choose to do that. I'll see you around Fiona, perhaps."

"Do you think I should dump my husband?"

"No way will I answer that question because it's not for me to answer."

"Oh you clever man. Now as soon as you've finished here I want you to go straight into the house, run a bath and pour hot coffee. I shall be cooking dinner for two. Hunt around for a bottle of red wine. There will be one left in the cupboards above the side sink bench. I won't be long."

"No I can't impose..."

The car door had slammed, the window had rolled down and Fiona yelled, "Now don't be a naughty boy." She reversed and drove off laughing and waving.

Within minutes Rick had found the blocked outlet and cleared it. Someone had driven off the side of the track and compressed debris over the emerging drain.

He picked up his backpack and went inside. Although it was a fairly rundown house everything inside was spotless. The bed was made, there were no clothes on the bedroom floor or in the bathroom and the dishes had been done and put away.

Rick started the bath and after pouring coffee found a bottle of red wine and opened it to breathe. He then went into the second bedroom and found it was being used as a studio. Rick knew enough about painting to know Fiona was exceptionally good. Noting the signature on a self-portrait of herself in a bikini he went into the lounge and looked again at the big painting of a cityscape in the fall. He thought it was of Boston and yes, the signature was the same as her latest work, Fiona Clay. Clay must have been her maiden name.

Rick climbed into the bath and began thinking of the chances of spending a night seducing Mrs Fiona McFie. God what a body. That bikini top only just held her in and he knew she'd be unlikely to paint them bigger that what they were and the legs, particularly the lower legs were gorgeous. The Mrs Fiona McFie he'd seen in the flesh hadn't had much flesh exposed, as she'd been dressed in a linen trouser suit. Until seeing the self-portrait he'd had no idea of the treasures being hidden by that ungainly clothing.

Fiona had been separated from her husband for a month. At her young age she'd be hot for it and he recalled how she'd gone slightly soppy when he said he'd been obliged to rescue a damsel in distress. She'd make that cute sound women made to men when they're feeling soppy, 'Oooh'. And he'd succeeded in extricating her vehicle without breaking anything.

Oh yeah, he had some good things going for him and if he behaved manly but like a gentleman she might invite him to sleep with her providing she'd had enough drinks to shed some restraint.

Minutes later he thought would she really come across for him? Well Rick thought a 90% chance would be good but unfortunately they didn't know one another, there was an age difference and she would be sensitive about the big blip on her marriage, probably blaming herself. Damn she'd probably end up drinking too much and crying to him about the rotten husband. That still left an outside chance she should feel like sex and give him a chance. So there could be an outside chance of what? Um 15%? Oh crap!

A door slammed and Fiona yelled, "Hi, I'm back. Do you drink Martinis?"

"Yes thank you. Give me five more minutes here."

"No stay there, I'm coming to join you."

Rick could see there was no chair. She'd have to sit on the toilet to drink and chat. God, how primitive.

He grabbed a pretty flannel off a hook and spread it over his groin. God if his dick attempted to form a boner when Fiona arrived he's throttle it.

"Here I come," she said, sounding very close.

She laughed and said, "God I haven't said that for quite sometime."

Rick rolled his eyes, knowing that was not the sort of talk to keep his dick behaving. Christ if he wasn't careful he'd break into a nervous sweat.

"Hi, are you on for sex tonight?" Fiona asked merrily.

Rick gaped.

Fiona stood straight on to him, both hands out wide holding drinks. She was naked and very closely cropped.

"Goudfreeinnk"

"Excuse me?"

Rick swallowed. "I-I think I was t-trying to say good evening. I was bedazzled."

"Oooh, bedazzled eh? Then it's not going to take much to get you off. Here hold the drinks and push your legs out wide and I'll slide between then. That's my face flannel you have around your dick."

"F-f-for modesty."

"Quickly Rick, push a couple of fingers into me and get over your embarrassment."

"I-I the-the drinks."

"Oh god, of course. I was thinking about doing this in the car returning home and by my reckoning we ought to have you right inside me by now."

Rick sighed. "Sex rarely works out how you think it will."

"Oh man, you're so right Rick. Tell me, am I welcome here?"

"You will be incapable of believing just how welcome you are."

"Oooh Rick. But first I must tell you something. "I'm doing this to get even with that treacherous husband of mine."

"That's fine. For once in your life you'll probably fuck as if you really mean it."

Fiona laughed a little forced and taking and placing her drink on the floor took Rick's hand and pulled it into the water towards her pussy.

"No, not. First may I fondle your tits?"

Fiona looked at him keenly and asked, "Are you a titman?"

"Absolutely."

"Ohmigod. Make my day."

Later when the couple was in danger of becoming superheated with titivating passion they left the bathroom and Fiona led Rick to the combined kitchen-dining room-lounge. The room had been heated so they dropped on to the sofa, still nude and wet. Fiona fed Rick in and they had a slow, satisfying bout of conventional sex until both exploded. They then put on gowns Fiona produced and combined to prepare and cook their meal.

They talked throughout and beyond the meal about each other, potted histories and Rick spoke about his divorce, it taking them eight years before their marriage finally and passively extinguished and they agreed to divorce.

When they were finishing coffee Rick said, "Now we have reached your marital dilemma."

"Yes," Fiona sighed. "I wish you'd..."

Rick interrupted. "Shhh Fiona. Be a big girl and work it out yourself. Weight up the pros and cons and then make your decision that you can declare is the best decision for you. It's a major decision with major consequences and probably even greater consequences if you make a decision that turns out to be the wrong one."

They tidied up and went to bed where they had sex for almost four hours before falling asleep, sated.

* * *

Just after dawn Fiona awoke to find the expected; Rick had gone. She checked the house to make sure and then put on her gown and raced out on to the road and looked west and saw a speck in the distance she knew was a walking man, Rick Dash, now only a few hours from journey's end. Fiona was tempted to follow him but knew if he'd wanted her to do that or to be at the boundary of the city waiting for him he would have invited her to do one of those things.

She walked back inside crying and found a note.

'Dear Fiona. Below is my address. If you ever wish to find me then make sure you don't lose this piece of paper. I'm so grateful I found you bogged in your car. We did have such a lovely time together. Remember Fiona darling, focus entirely on doing what's the best thing for you.'

* * *

Rick began the final leg of his 400-mile walk quite despondent, thinking he'd never see Fiona again. One night with Mrs McFie would be all he would be getting.

God she was a great fuck. Some women barely go through the motions. Some go through the motions with gusto until they tire and that can be fairly early in the piece. Of course some just give a superb imitation of a wet sack of wheat. But Fiona was one of the best; she really banged, giving as good as she got. She had been incredible. She was warm, prepared to stand her ground and talk ever so sweetly. She'd have her faults of course. Rick sighed and said aloud, "Don't we all." Christ what was wrong with her husband, having on hand one of the best women around? Perhaps his girlfriend gave him her ass?

However, some three hours later Rick had convinced himself Fiona would decide the best thing for Fiona would be to divorce her husband and reconnect with Rick and try it out for a while. He thought the chance of that happening would be 40-60%. Well a conservative engineer was scarcely likely to switch those odds to 60-40. Well, not unless he turned soppy.

Rick arrived in the city, had a big steak meal and caught a long-distance bus that with just one change would deliver him back home. He arrived home at 3:30 am and went to bed dreaming of that painting of Fiona in a bikini.

Two mornings later Rick was washing his black pickup, an activity he always performed with love because for a guy a good vehicle could always take on the status of a good pal. A courier arrived with a big package marked 'Fragile'.

Rick's heart pounded as he rushed inside and unwrapped his painting. Yes it was Fiona in bikini.

Looking at Fiona's face Rick had a huge surge of belief she'd be coming to him, even if she had no idea of that yet. Fiona might feel she was simply rewarding him for freeing her car from mud's grip and giving her a great night in bed. But he preferred to think Fiona was giving him something to remind him of her until she got the current mess in her life sorted and then came to reconnect with him.

With another week to go before he due to return to work Rick pulled out the plans of his house and went into the central business district to visit Amelia Garrett, one of his late mother's friends. Mrs Garrett had spent many years as a portrait painter before retiring to open Garrett's Fine Arts in Centennial Square.

She was most helpful and provided the advice he required.

"Remodeling the third bedroom in your house as an art studio is the expensive way to go if you wish to do it properly."

"I know Mrs Garrett but she is used to painting at home. If I rented suitable premises she'd be away from me unnecessarily."

"But you said this Fiona has not said she'd coming to live with you."