What a Long Strange Trip

"Shop's closed," he informed us. Well, informed her chest. I still wasn't sure he'd looked up to her face, yet.

"Oh, damn..." she sighed, putting her hand on his arm. "Do you know anybody who could help us? We're desperate." The kid finally looked up. Mesmerized comes to mind.

"Uh, well, my Pa's got some of the guys here, workin' on some overtime jobs," he offered. "I could see if he'd want to help you."

"That would be great! I'm Angie," she held out her hand. "And you are...?"

"Luke," he told her, taking her hand.

"Well, Luke, Steve and I would appreciate any help you can give us," she went on, moving in closer so those wonderful 34D's were pushing up against him. "We're pretty much stranded, and at the mercy of strangers." She was laying it on thick, but he was eating it up.

"Yes, ma'am," he managed to get out. "I'll go see what my Pa says..."

"Thank you so much," she told him as she gave him a brief peck on the cheek and stepped back, letting go of his hand. With one more longing look at her boobs, he went back up to the house.

"You," I told Angie, "are amazing. Wicked, but amazing." She just smiled as we waited.

It wasn't long before one of the big garage doors on the main building inside the fence opened up and a couple of men walked out. I presumed the one in the lead was Luke's father. Luke came back out of the house and walked back over to us, getting there about the same time "Pa" was unlocking the fence and coming out to meet us.

"My son says there's a lady in distress out here," he announced as he got near.

"Yes, sir, I am," Angie affirmed, stepping forward. "I'm Angie and this is Steve, and we've got a couple of major problems. We're hoping you can help us out. We managed to limp this far, but we're not going much farther." The old man's eyes were solidly on her bust, just like his son's had been.

"I'm Ted," he told her tits. "So what's the problem?"

"A blown serpentine belt on the truck and a shredded tire on the trailer," she told him before I could say a word. He nodded at her words and then gave her an appraising look-over. Angie, for her part, just put on her "helpless smile" and kept looking at him. When he was done looking at her, he walked over to look at the trailer and then around to the front of the truck. I had the hood up for him by the time he got there.

"Okay, yeah, you sure got a problem, Miss," he told Angie, ignoring me. "I can probably fix ya up, but I'd have to send to Frenchtown for parts. Might be able to turn it around in a few hours."

"Well, Ted, if you could point us at a café or something, we'd be more than happy to get out of your way. I know we're imposing, and interrupting your day and all, but we really would appreciate any help you can give us."

"Larry's is back up the street, there, at the crossroads," he told us.

"That's wonderful," she gushed. "Any idea what the repairs might cost?"

"Can't tell for sure until we check out the parts and such," he told her. "But I would guess less than $500."

She reached in her purse and pulled out five $100 bills. "Well, let's call this a down payment, just in case," she told him. "I have to move a couple of things around, but then I can have Steve move it wherever you want it."

"Middle bay," Ted told her, taking the money and looking at it. "I can send Luke to get ya, when we know somethin'."

"That would be wonderful. I won't be a minute." She headed around to my side with three pairs of male eyes following her, not including mine.

"Let's get the hard cases into the trailer," she suggested to me, quietly. "It will padlock shut and I will feel better about them not helping themselves."

"Whatever you say, boss," I told her, then went and unlocked the trailer while she opened up the Explorer. Using blankets and other camouflage, we moved the guns to the trailer, brought back something inconsequential to put in their place, mostly for misdirection I guess, then buttoned everything up. I limped it down to the bay with the open door and the guy who had been with Ted met me there. We unhooked the trailer and I gave him the keys, and he took the Explorer into the open bay.

I thanked them and headed back up to join Angie, and then the two of us walked back to Larry's Six Mile Casino and Café. It wasn't great but it wasn't bad. They had your basic "cowboy fare" menu and a half a dozen kinds of beer. Angie and I both went with the fried chicken, a side of fries and lemonade.

"I've really got to get back into some serious cardio..." she muttered as we ate.

"I thought that's what the nightly exercises were for," I stuck my foot in my mouth, trying to joke around. "Burn up calories."

The look she gave me was inscrutable. As was her cryptic, "I could burn a lot more with some help."

I guess I was looking kind of worried, because when we'd finished up and were just sitting there sucking on our drinks, she asked "so what's the problem? We'll be a day late. You already had that buffer built into your schedule."

"I'm worried about what he's going to find when he gets under the hood," I told her. "That one belt drives the alternator, the power steering, the A/C compressor and the water pump. When the belt went, I would have expected my charging idiot light to come on way before the temperature shot up, and the steering to become really hard."

"Maybe you got us off the road fast enough that you didn't notice the other things," she offered.

"Maybe," I agreed. "But you wanted to know what my problem was." She nodded her understanding.

We had just ordered another round of lemonades when Luke showed up.

"Hi, ma'am," he addressed Angie, walking up to our booth.

"Hello, Luke," she acknowledged him. "Are we good to go?"

"Well, ma'am, the way my Pa put it to tell you was, he hopes your tolerance for bad news ain't shot."

Angie and I looked at each other. "What does that mean, Luke?" I asked.

"It means there's more busted that just the belt and the tire," he explained. "I'm supposed to fetch you back to the shop so he can explain it to you."

I motioned the waitress over, got the bill and a couple of to-go cups for the lemonades and followed Angie and Luke out to his car. Or truck, rather. Anyway, we got back to the shop and Ted laid it on me.

"You already know the belt's blown," he told us. "Unfortunately, so is the belt tensioner and one of the idler pulleys. Plus the thermostat is stuck. The trailer tire is a simple replacement, but I can't get the parts for the truck here until tomorrow morning. I've got a guy in Missoula who has to come this way with parts anyway, so I went ahead and put in the order, in case you want to go ahead with it."

I looked at Angie. "Okay, we don't really have a choice. Go ahead and do the work. Any idea how much this is going to run me?"

"Well, you're looking at about $250 in parts and about $400 in labor for the whole shebang," he told me. "About $650 and I can have it ready for you by 9am tomorrow."

"That's great!" Angie told him. "Um... any idea where we could find a hotel around here?"

"Closest hotel's over in Alberton," he told her. "Or back in Missoula. Really don't have anything around here." He looked thoughtful for a moment before he told her, "I got a trailer I ain't usin' at the moment. You two could use that for the night, if ya wanted." Angie looked over at me. I just shrugged. We both knew we didn't have many options.

"Then let's call it an even thousand, you show us the trailer and we'll get out of your way," she told him.

I think the expression on the guy's face indicated he was rethinking his quote, if she was willing to throw around a grand that easy. Actually, I was reassessing her, too. Ted pointed to a mobile home type of trailer down near the big shop buildings, a bit hidden behind a couple of semi-tractors. We retrieved our bags and the cooler from the truck and Luke walked us over.

"Pa said to tell you, if you need any kind of groceries, my mom, Tillie, is up at the house and can help you out." I thanked him and counted out five $100 bills and handed them to him.

"Tell your father, this is the balance. Whatever's left over, he can keep."

"Yes, sir!" he nodded, and left to go find his father. I turned around and headed into the trailer, where I found Angie had already settled us in.

"I called my Dad and told him what happened," she told me as I entered. "He offered to drive over here and get me, but I told him I was fine and we'd be there sometime tomorrow. You might want to let your daughter know."

She was right, and I went ahead and made the call. They were disappointed, but understood. I told them I was still planning on being there sometime Sunday afternoon and we'd chat then. Plus, Tacoma wasn't that far a drive from where I was staying in Seattle, so dinner during the week wasn't out of the question. When I finished up, I went and found Angie.

"This is a nice little place," she told me, gesturing around. It was, actually, for a mobile home. Living room up front with a couch and easy chairs, coffee table, TV, air conditioner; the kitchen and heater in the middle; the full bath and one bedroom with bunk beds aft of the kitchen; the master bedroom with a queen sized bed and its own A/C at the rear. All in all, compact, efficient, but comfortable.

Angie went through the cooler and sorted things together to make a simple meal. I suggested we go back to Larry's for take-out, but she nixed the idea.

"If you want to send Luke up there, that's fine," she told me, "but I've made enough of a sensation today. The rumor mill will have that place packed with guys wanting to see the busty redhead."

"Good point," I acknowledged and went in search of Luke. I found him and gave him $50 to go get a bucket of chicken with potato and coleslaw sides. I told him he could keep the change. I think he figured I was crazy, but he did it. We were just finishing up dinner when Ted showed up.

"We're gonna work until about ten tonight," he told us. "When we leave, I'm gonna lock the fence, if that isn't a problem for you. I'll keep Grizzly in the house tonight, so he won't bother you."

"Grizzly?" I asked, afraid that the guy might actually have a pet bear.

"My Rott," he told me. "Friendly as all get out, if he knows you, or one of us is around. Hell of a watchdog if we're not."

"Point taken," I told him. "We're just going to take it easy tonight, anyway. And thanks for going to all this trouble for us on short notice. And by the way, this is a really nice trailer."

"It's my daughter's," he told me. "She parked it here before she went into the Service. Should be comfortable. And you're welcome. I'd want somebody to bail my ass out if I got in a bind like you."

"I truly appreciate it," I told him. "Guess we'll see you in the morning."

"Goodnight," he told me. "Ma'am..." he nodded to Angie. She brushed by me and leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you very, very much, Ted," she told. "We are truly grateful."

Ted touched the spot where she'd kissed him. "Okay," he muttered. "Now I believe him..."

"Excuse me?" Angie asked, deservedly confused.

"Oh... Luke told me you'd kissed him," Ted explained. "I allowed as how he was deamin'... now, I believe him." Angie just chuckled.

"Goodnight, Ted," she told him and he turned and walked back towards the shop. I closed and locked the door.

"You're rather friendly by nature," I commented to Angie as I went back to the living room and sprawled on the sofa. "Or incredibly manipulative. I haven't figured out which."

"Being friendly can be manipulative, true," she agreed. "But in my case, it doesn't hurt anybody if my feminine assets move the repair project along a little quicker. I'd rather not play people, though. I learned long ago there's no such thing as a perfect world. So I do the best I can."

"Well, between you and me and the NSA wiretaps, your best is pretty damned good," I admitted. "I like being around you. Which for a misanthrope like me is unusual."

"And I like being around you," she smiled again. She seemed to do that a lot around me. Smile, that is.

"So, what do you want to do until sack time?" I asked. "I'm beat enough, I can just crash if you want to settle in with a good book or something. You can take the Queen and I'll take one of the bunks."

"Trade massages," she told me, and she said it with a straight face. That got my attention.

"Trade..." I prompted, waiting for her to fill in the blank.

"Massages," she iterated. "I've had a couple of really long days and I'm willing to trade you. I could really use some relaxation of my neck, back, legs... you know. You've got to be feeling stressed, too. I'd be willing to do the same for you."

"I'm not particularly practiced in the Art of Massage," I told her. "Beyond Heinlein's Rub Her Feet, I'd just be guessing."

"Rub her feet is a good place to start," Angie smiled. "Or neck. Or shoulders. Anything to loosen up the muscles that are trying to tie themselves in knots."

"You'll have to give me directions," I told her.

"Okay, Direction One: stand up. Direction Two: follow me." She led me back through the trailer to the master bedroom. "Direction Three: strip." That got raised eyebrows from me.

"Believe me, we'll both end up more relaxed," she said as she started taking off her clothes. I decided to follow her example. Thank God I wasn't particularly erect. That might have been embarrassing. Still...

"Okay, Direction Four: take some of this and rub it into my shoulders." She handed me a bottle of some kind of skin oil or lotion, then laid down on the bed on her face, pulling her hair up and putting her hands up next to her head. I poured a little of the oil on her back and sat down on the edge of the bed to rub it in, figuring long, stretchy-type strokes would probably be good. But that wasn't going to work. I couldn't lean over enough to reach her neck and shoulders without torquing my back, which was sore enough already.

So I did the expedient thing. I climbed up on the bed, straddling her waist so I could bring both hands to bear on her back. I'd actually forgotten that I was nude until she moaned rather loudly and observed, "Oh! Now that feels nice! The massage does, too."

Rather than panic, I summoned all the sophistication I could muster and kept going. And I kept going until I had thoroughly rubbed every square inch of her neck, shoulders, back, waist, butt, thighs and calves. Obviously, I had to change position several times to do it, picking different parts of her body to straddle. She and I both studiously ignored the erection that decided to show up.

When I finished with her heels and the soles of her feet, she looked back over her shoulder and told me, "that was marvelous! But you missed a spot." I'm sure she was amused at my look of confusion. She spread her legs slightly and added, "the groin."

It was true, I had avoided the area between her thighs and under her butt. It had seemed too personal, too much of a sexual connotation. And now she was inviting me to be intimate with her. Actually, she wasn't inviting me so much as directing me. As if she was seducing me. That's when I decided to stop being stupid.

We'd already crossed the line when I helped her get off. And she was the one who had been using double entendres and innuendo to tease me. So I really didn't need to worry about her being offended by my touch. The looming question, though, was how much touch, and of what kind? I could try to do the inside of her thighs and ass and keep it non-sexual, but somehow I doubted she'd let it stay that way. In the end, I decided what the hell? Let it play out however it's going to.

I put some more of the lotion on my hands and started working up the inside of her thighs. Her muscles yielded to the pressure of my hands as I massaged the tension away. I found the middle tendon, the one that goes up into the groin, and followed it with one hand while going up the outside towards her hip with the other. I felt her sigh as I reach the puffy part where her thigh and her pudenda came together. I made sure to keep the back of my hand towards her pussy. She kept herself shaved baby-smooth and with the slipperiness of the oil, it felt wonderfully hedonistic. I just didn't want to come across like some kind of horndog.

When I had everything loosened up as much as reasonable on the one side, I switched to the other, again moving up her thigh slowly, until I was at the place of "Thigh, meet Pussy. Pussy, meet Thigh." And during this, despite my best intentions, my cock decided to get hard. Actually, with all the intimate, sensual stroking going on and the fact that I had to keep straddling her, it was pretty much a foregone conclusion. I eased up to move off of her and she spoke up again.

"You still missed a spot," and I could almost hear the smile in her voice. So I put some more oil on my hands and started working my way down the crack of her ass, between her luscious glutes, slowly and gently moving the muscles. I gave up on the decorum and ran my hands down the centerline, prodding her anus slightly on the way by, to her pudenda. I was stopping my strokes just short of her labia when she apparently got tired of waiting.

As I pushed down her slippery skin with the edge of my hand, she raised her rump into me, timing it so I couldn't help but slide my fingers into her lips. Her hot, wet, sopping lips.

"Mmm... better," she murmured as I felt like I'd been plugged in the wall. Any doubt I had about her intentions was gone. Even if this was just a long, languorous masturbation, she was expecting sexual stimulation and was doing an incredibly good job of seducing me into it.

Well, I liked it when she was happy...

I began gently massaging her outer lips, and sliding between them to her inners. I flattened my hand so I could rub all through the gap in her thighs, but staying back from her clit. I must have been frustrating her somewhat, because she kept rolling back against my hand, trying to get me farther forward. I decided, not for the last time, to stop being stupid. She was showing me what she wanted.

So I cupped my hand, allowing my fingertips to brush over her urethra and her clit. That was, in the vernacular, hitting the jackpot. She had a fairly good-sized clit, about the size of the tip of my little finger, and it was very sensitive... perfect for what I wanted.

"Oh, fuck, yes, Steve!..." she murmured into the pillow. Then she switched to pushing back rhythmically into my hand, timing her thrusts to my strokes. Her breath got a little ragged like it did when she was doing herself and I realized it was getting a lot wetter down there than the oil alone would have explained. She said she got off for stress relief. Okay, my mission was now stress relief.

Every other stroke, I would run first one finger, then two, into her pussy. Not far. Not like I was trying to fuck her with my hand. But far enough to tease her, to stretch her a little, to see how she'd react. She reacted just fine, thank you very much. Maybe a couple of minutes later, she was cumming.

"Oh, fuck, yes! Oh, fuck, yes! Oh, Fuck! YES!!"

She was right, that she could be a screamer when she wanted to be... witness the brief interlude at the Homewood Suites. This time, it didn't need to be brief. And she didn't need to be quiet. I don't think they heard us up at the house, and I'm fairly sure we didn't set off the dog, but...

She kept thrusting back into me like she was trying milk just a little more orgasm from my fingers. I realized with her face down, I could use a move I'd learned along the way, and turned my hand from palm up to palm down, forgetting about her clit and thrusting two fingers deeply into her pussy, looking for her G-spot. I found the dollar-sized disc with no problem and as soon as I started massaging it, she went over again. Hard.