What a Long Strange Trip

"Fifteen," she smiled. "And thanks." She stood up and undid the halter at her neck, and the dress just slid off of her. And once again, my Gentleman Chromosome was getting a workout. She really was beautiful, and sexy. And I decided I'd better take a bite of my sandwich.

Who knew roast beef and cream cheese on wheat could be so good?

"I've got ham and muenster here, if you'd rather," she told me, pushing another sandwich towards me.

"Both sounds good," I smiled and tried not to stare. She might be lounging in the jacuzzi tonight, but I'd be standing under a cold shower.

We split a bag of pretzels, finished our drinks and started to clean up. Or rather, she started to clean up and shooed me away. So I walked down to the water's edge and looked around. It really was a beautiful area, and other than the snow, I could see living in this kind of country. I heard a whistle behind me and was surprised to find out it was her. Still naked and with an armload of stuff to go back to the truck. When she saw she had my attention, she started walking back up the trail.

"Hey!" I called out as I dog-trotted after her. "Didn't you forget something?" She turned around to look at the picnic table and then realized that what she was missing was her dress.

"Oops?" she called back in faux-embarrassment. I say faux because her expression was just about as impish as you can get. I caught up with her and took the stuff from her arms so she could go slip her dress on. I turned and headed for the truck and again was surprised when an arm snaked around my waist as I walked.

"Thank you!" she told me, her arm around me as we walked. "This really is a lovely little spot. What's next on our agenda?"

"Glendive, Montana," I told her. "Three hours. Although we'll probably have to make a stop sooner."

"Music, again?" she asked as we finished loading the truck and got set to go.

"Sure." I was really liking this woman. "More Classical?"

"How about if I mix it up?" she asked, and there was that twinkle in her eye again.

I doubt if you looked under "Mix It Up", you would find Allman Brothers to Steppenwolf, Blues Brothers to Edgar Winter, Aliotta Haynes and Jeremiah to Stevie Nicks, and a whole lot more. Her taste in music was eclectic and I was loving it. One quick stop at Dickinson and it was nearing 4pm when we got to Glendive. There isn't a lot there, but all I was interested in was a gas station. Angie again surprised me.

"Oh, nuts!" she said to her Droid. "They're both closed."

"Both what? Gas stations?" I asked, getting concerned.

"No, the museums..." she told me. "The Glendive Dinosaur and Fossil Museum, run by Creationists, and the Frontier Gateway Museum. They looked interesting. But... maybe next time."

"Um, isn't a dinosaur museum run by Creationists a little odd?" I asked. It sure seemed like a non sequitur to me.

"Yeah, that's why I wanted to check it out," she agreed.

"Okay," I acknowledged and was relieved to see the huge Exxon sign. I figured I'd just dodged a bullet on that one and was more than happy to gas up and go.

"Wow..." Angie commented as we pulled out. "No wonder they call these the Badlands... is it like this all the way to Billings?"

"The highway mostly follows the Yellowstone River valley, so it isn't that bad. But the scenery can be spectacular. We'll probably take a break at Rosebud."

She giggled. Really. Giggled. It went right over my head. When I gave her a kind of "What?...", she just stifled the giggle and waved my question off with her hand.

"Well, okay, I suppose Forsyth would be better," I admitted. She just giggled a little more, then settled against the pillow propped against the door. I went back to watching the road and she didn't put her music back on. She was dozing or something.

It must have been the "or something" because about half an hour later, she stirred and turned slightly towards me.

"Steve?" she asked quietly and I nodded "yeah?"

"Did you really mean it when you said you wouldn't mind?" I had to think for a moment, but I remembered.

"Yeah, I meant it," I told her. "Although I hope you're not a screamer. That could get really distracting."

"Only when I want to be..." she smiled. "And thanks..." She turned back into the pillow and didn't seem to start doing anything obvious. I got my head back on the road and getting us to Billings in one piece. We were just past Miles City when I caught the movement out of the corner of my eye.

She had her left hand in her skirt and was very carefully rubbing, so as not to make it obvious. She had her right hand on her left breast, under the halter, and seemed to be playing with her nipple. And with my attention at least partially now on her, I caught the change in her breathing. She was trying to be silent, but there was a soft panting, and then a catch like she was holding it, and then more panting. Her face was turned away, into the pillow, so I couldn't see it.

Finally, there was a low moan she couldn't suppress and she stiffened. I noticed very slight jerking while she tried to hold herself still, but otherwise she was exhibiting phenomenal self-control. I waited until she had calmed down and taken her hands out of her dress before I said anything.

"You know, you don't have to be that quiet or that careful on my account," I told her, keeping my eyes on the road. "Getting off should feel good, not constrained. Just sayin'..."

There wasn't any immediate response from her and I risked a quick glance over towards her. She was sitting up, staring fixedly out the windshield.

"Oh, Christ, I hope I didn't piss you off," I told her. "I'm trying to be supportive, not critical."

"I know you are," she answered quietly. "My problem isn't with you." She didn't elaborate and I didn't pursue it. We were almost to Forsyth before she spoke again.

"You missed Rosebud," she commented.

"Yeah," I sort of had to smile. I'd figured out what was so funny about Rosebud. "Not much there. I think I'll pull off at Forsyth for a quick breather, though."

"Oh, there's plenty there," she murmured. "Just not that there. And yes, please. I need a pit stop."

Now I was definitely getting teased. And completely unsure which way to go with it. So I stayed with the original deal, driving her and her guns to her father's place. After we left Forsyth, she spoke up again.

"Steve, I don't know how to handle this," she started. I just looked over at her with raised eyebrows. She took a deep breath, then let it out in a long sigh.

"I masturbate to relieve tension. I do it a lot. My sex life with Asshole is non-existent and has been for years. He drinks, a lot. To the point of impotence. I dated some guys and got into some heavy petting, but I've avoided cheating on him since filing. I want the divorce first, but it's getting harder and harder to go without. For awhile, he had a private investigator following me around. Fortunately for me, I was boring and costing Asshole a bunch of money. He eventually gave up."

"To be honest, I use my jilling so much that I even use the women's room at work and sometimes my car in the parking lot, before driving home. Controlling myself on this trip has been a test of my will. You were nice enough to give me an out back there, when you said it was okay with you. But I still feel a little embarrassed, and a lot concerned, about what you must think of me. I just wanted you to know that regardless of how attractive you are, I'm not trying to come on to you. Just so you don't feel threatened. And I really do appreciate you driving me out to my Dad's."

Regardless of how attractive I was? Really? I don't generally put myself in the attractive category. I'm not ugly, I know. I guess I'm pretty average. Certainly not an Adonis. I have to admit, coming from her it was an ego stroke.

"I have figured out that most times, it's easier to go without than deal with all the emotional games and baggage that dating brings with it," I told her. "I made my share of mistakes post-divorce. I'm sure as hell not going to criticize you for solving your problem and getting your needs met. Especially if you're one of those ladies that's horny all the time. No, wait. Bad phrasing."

"Some women I've known... a couple of them Friends With Benefits, for awhile... were really sensual and sexual, and just joyed in the physical. A lot. There wasn't anything wrong with them, other than the fact that they were living in a rather Puritanical environment. If you're one of those and jilling, as you call it, relieves your stress, then God bless you and have at it. My only problem is, I find you attractive and I have to keep reminding myself that this is a humanitarian run, and to behave myself. I certainly don't feel threatened. And I'm sure as hell not going to think any less of you. Just so you know."

She didn't say anything other than "thanks"... but I caught the slight smile.

We both fell silent and we made it to Billings a little after 7pm. We were rolling up on the first exit when she once again surprised me.

"Want to share a bed?" she asked, looking at her Droid.

"What?" It seemed like a reasonable response.

"You're HHonors, right? Well, the Garden Inn and Homewood Suites both have rooms with microwave and mini-fridge, but they're Kings. The twin Queens are all booked," she explained. "If you don't think I'm going to rape you, we could share a bed. Or, I can look for something non-Hilton that has two beds available."

I decided to trust to Fate. "Whatever you want, it's okay with me," I told her. "Make sure they've got your jacuzzi."

"They both do," she told me. "So I'm going to book us at the Homewood. They've got a 1 bedroom 1 King suite available." I told her to do it and she did. We were checked in by 7:30pm; found the Olive Garden online, ordered and picked it up by 8:30pm; she talked me into the jacuzzi until it closed and we were back in the room a little after 10pm. Angie in a bikini looked every bit as good as Angie in nothing, believe me.

I went ahead and jumped on my email while Angie warmed up the Olive Garden order, and we ate. I'd gotten the last of the specs from the project manager at V-H and there wasn't anything startling in them, so I was going to be able to relax until Monday morning. Eventually, we looked to turning in.

Angie went to the bathroom, got her shower and came back starkers, getting into "her side" of the bed. She chose the one away from the door, which is the one I would usually use, but hey... it was a King and she looked wonderful. I could deal. I hit the head and came back to bed, also sans clothes, and crawled in on "my side," setting the alarm for 5:30am. I also put in a wake-up call. Insurance.

"It's 8 hours to Spokane and dropping you off," I told her. "But it's another 5 for me to Tacoma, so I'd like to roll like we did this morning, right after an early breakfast."

"Not a problem," she assured me, then took a big sip off her nightcap and killed the light on her side. I followed suit. I pretty much turned my back to her and kept to my side, but her presence was definitely noticeable. Call it her aura, if you want. Or maybe it was just a hint of scent from her soap... or maybe her. Whatever it was, I was acutely aware that I was sharing the bed with a luscious, naked female almost half my age. I drifted off to idyllic fantasies that had to do with woods, picnic tables and the Great Outdoors.

I woke to find my arm draped over her, my body curled in behind her, and my throbbing erection pressing against her ass. I don't know if the sudden rise in my BP and pulse constituted panic, but I suddenly felt very embarrassed and hoped like hell I hadn't done anything inappropriate. I tried to ease back and not wake her.

"You feel good, Steve," her voice came out of the darkness. "You don't have to go, if you don't want to..."

I went anyway. I couldn't take the chance that the little head wouldn't do something stupid. It was hard falling asleep again, but I managed. And woke up to her curled up around me this time. Her breath was gentle in my ear and she was obviously asleep. Her arm was draped over my hip and dangerously close to Little Steve -- who had decided to wake up all on his own. I wasn't sure what to do.

She had chosen to do nothing. To ignore the fact that I was curled up to her. So that's what I decided to do. I shifted a little to get my groin farther from her hand, but basically did nothing, figuring she'd wake up and figure out her position much like I had.

"Mmm..." she murmured and started rubbing her hand along my thigh and belly. Then she suddenly stopped and held her breath. I figured she must be transitioning to "awake" status.

"Sorry..." she muttered as she withdrew her hand and rolled over, putting her back to me.

"Don't worry about it," I told her. "Like you said, you feel good. Goodnight. Again."

"Night," she answered and I went back to trying to fall asleep. I didn't make it.

I was very aware of the shift in her breathing, and then the subtle movements that let me know she was trying to jill without disturbing me.

"You know, you can just go ahead and have at it," I told her. "Don't worry about offending me. At the risk of offending you, listening to you is very pleasant to an old voyeur like me."

I had felt her go stiff when I'd started to talk, but by the time I stopped, she'd relaxed some. I could sort of feel her make up her mind in the dark, roll on her back and slide the covers part way off. She started rubbing herself and I could make out the faint outline of her womanly curves as her breathing got more and more ragged and I could easily imagine her getting close to her climax.

My imp got the better of me. I know it was wrong, and definitely not the gentlemanly thing to do, but I couldn't help it. She was spreading her lips with her right hand and rubbing with her left. That left those wonderful 34D's with the pointy nipples sticking up. I reached over to her right nipple, took it between my first two fingers, palm up, and started rubbing my thumbnail lightly across it. She exploded.

"Oh, my GOD!!" she cried out, and if I had any question whether she was cumming or not, it got drowned in the sea of invectives she let loose as she rubbed furiously and thrashed about next to me. I got confirmation moments later.

"Fucking cumming! Fucking cumming! OH!... Fucking CUMMING!!" I just kept doing what I was doing.

I eased up when she did. As she settled down, I withdrew my hand, rolled back onto my back and asked her, "do you think you can sleep, now?" I meant it as a serious question. Her answer caught me by surprise.

She rolled onto her side, grabbed my face in her hands and leaned over me, kissing me, hard.

She was phenomenal. I felt the little tingly shocks running everywhere. I probably didn't respond as well as I should have, but I was definitely responding. She broke the kiss, looked down at me in the feeble glow of the alarm clock and said "Very funny. Yes, good sir, I believe I will now be able to get to sleep." Then she gave me one more peck, turned her back to me and settled down into her side of the bed.

Leaving me to wonder if I'd done the right thing. On the whole, I decided what I'd done was okay. A friendly nudge in the right direction to get her the orgasm she wanted and not make a big deal out of it. So I rolled over, my back to her, and forced myself to clear my mind and drift off.

* * * * *

Oh-dark-thirty hit me with a vengeance. I woke to dreams of fucking the hell out of Angie's luscious body, and her going ape-shit like she did, moaning a blue streak and cumming over and over. It took forever for the hard-on to go down so I could piss. I managed to finish up and head into the shower.

"Thank you," I heard her tell me quietly, from the toilet. I had a pretty good idea what she was thanking me for.

"You're welcome," I told her and went back to lathering up.

"May I join you for a minute?" she asked, standing outside the shower curtain. I did what I usually didn't do when unsure. I agreed.

"Uh, sure?" I told her and she stepped in. I moved so she could get wet, then handed her the soap. We swapped and she soaped up, not doing her hair, while I rinsed off. I was trying to finish up as quickly as practical, because I didn't want to sprout another erection in the shower with her. From my point of view, that would be tempting Fate.

She was quick and we were both out of there in short order, moving through the perfunctory tasks of dressing, getting breakfast, finishing packing and getting back on the road.

"Spokane, today," she smiled a little as we eased back onto the Interstate.

"Yep," I smiled. "Billings to Butte, to Missoula, to Spokane. I drop you at your Dad's and book for Tacoma."

"This has been a lot more fun than trying to drive it myself, Steve," she told me. "Music, again?"

"Have at it, my dear," I waved in the general direction of the radio. "Surprise me." She did.

Show tunes. And Sousa. And themes from old TV shows. The music was all over the map and I was loving it. We made good time and got to Butte in just over 3 hours, got refueled and back on the road. Missoula was a short leg, only an hour and forty-five, but she made it entertaining by jilling off once. We decided that her Exhibitionist and my Voyeur made a pretty good pair.

I topped off my tank in Missoula, just to make sure, and we took some time to eat lunch at the Finn & Porter restaurant near the University District. Overpriced, but the food was okay, and at that time of day, a nice, quiet place to eat. We finished up, visited our respective restrooms and headed out.

They say bad news comes in threes. Well, it sure did for us.

We were coming up on the exit for Huson, Montana, when my temperature gauge started to climb, quickly. I pulled over just short of the exit and felt the trailer starting to sway heavily. I muttered a few choice words as I popped the hood and got out to see what was going on with my radiator. Angie got out and went to look at the trailer.

My radiator was fine, as far as I could tell. My serpentine belt was blown. Disintegrated. Kaput.

"Steve! You've got a flat!" was the second piece of bad news, as Angie called me back to look. Sure as shit, the right tire was nearly shredded. Looking closely, I found a big fucking screw stuck through the tread. The rim had done the rest. When I checked the trailer's spare, it was flat, too. I should've fucking checked it before I left the rental lot. Well, damn...

I muttered several more choice words as I got out my phone and started Googling Huson. We caught a small break. The town only had a couple hundred people, but they had a truck and auto repair place. I figured I could carefully limp the truck and trailer there. It was about 1pm on Saturday when I pulled up to their chain link fence, closed, locked and absolutely no one in sight. Angie and I got out and were standing next to the truck, looking around, when a young guy standing on the porch of a house nearby called over to her.

"Hey, lady! You got a problem?" he called. I figured he must have a firm grasp of the obvious.

"Yes, sir, actually we do," she turned on the charm, and I thought the kid might cum in his jeans just standing there looking at her. I'll give him credit, he came down off the porch and walked up to her, giving me a cursory nod on the way.

"How can I help you?" he asked her tits.

"Well," she smiled to him and I began to see the wisdom of her approach, "we have a blown belt and trailer tire, and we're supposed to be in Spokane this afternoon. We can't go anywhere until they're fixed. We managed to limp here because we thought an automotive repair facility might be able to help us."