Wife Wants a Hall Pass Ch. 18

Michelin took the binoculars from my hand and sat, on the short grass. She rested her forearms on her knees and started glassing the base of the hill across from us.

I sat beside her and in a moment, I put my finger under the point of her chin and swiveled her face to me. I gathered her into my arms and kissed her softly. A long time later, we broke the kiss.

She nuzzled into the hollow of my shoulder and asked me, "Am I going to get laid while we are here?"

I chuckled and answered, "I don't know, yet. I do know that I will never assault you again. From now on you are going to verbally consent to anything beyond a soft, sweet kiss."

She pouted and said, "Oh Luke that is so hard, for a girl. You know it is our nature to say, "No," while we are helping to take our panties off. I wouldn't know how to give verbal consent." She snuggled closer to me and enveloped me in the magic of her giggles.

I said, "When you want to get laid, just cuddle up close and scream in my ear, "FUCK ME LUKE. I will get the message."

With no hesitation, she replied, "Oh no Luke. I might be able to whisper something like that but the only time you will ever hear me scream, is when I am cumming." There was no giggle this time.

The mood of her banter changed. She raised her lips close to my ear and whispered, "Fuck me, Luke."

I whispered, "Help me take your panties off."

She said, "I'm not wearing any." She was already wiggling out of her hip-huggers.

I unbuttoned her blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra either but I had known that.

I took one of her nipples into my mouth and massaged her other breast in my hand. She tried to roll me over on my back but I had to help her.

She said, "I want to be on top, again."

She brought her knees up on either side of me and sat upright. I helped her pull my Polo shirt over my head and she started undoing my jeans. She got them low enough and the monster jumped out at her, swaying back and forth. She giggled and caught him in her mouth on the fly. She sucked and teased him, while I shimmed out of my pants and tossed them to the side.

She whispered, "Fuck me." She took the monster in both hands and guided him to her entrance. I thrust upward and he slid right in. She was very wet.

I lay there comfortably in the grass while she banged me. Her strokes were slow but long. She took me into her deepest place. She laid her head on my chest and purred as she fucked me. Her every movement excited me. We enjoyed each other and made it last a long time.

Twenty minutes went by. She whispered in my ear again. She said, "Don't hold back Luke. Come with me, I'm very close. I felt a small one ripple through her. Her kegel muscles convulsed around me and she screamed, "FUCK ME LUKE."

I grabbed her hips with both hands and thrust into as hard as I could from this angle. Her pussy made new juices in abundant quantities. Linda gushed like this, sometimes.

I heard her repeat, "Fuck me, Luke." She was quieter and sounded as if she was a long way off. Then I realized it was an echo from a rock face, across the canyon. I fucked her hard anyway.

I placed my seminal fluid in the deepest spot I could reach. I emptied myself in powerful jets.

Her body became stiff and quivered. Her orgasm rose from deep in her belly to envelop her totally. It lasted for such a long time. She held me and moaned into my chest, fuck me, fuck me, and please fuck me. Finally, she started down.

I wasn't completely finished with her. When she stopped moving, I rolled us over and took the dominant position. I pounded her another minute until I started to lose my erection. She had at least two little ones while we came down together. I was so tired.

She lay under me and vibrated. She caught her breath and whispered, "Stay inside me." I did as long as I could but the monster had no genuine strength left.

I rolled off her. She snuggled close and she threw a leg over me. I held her until I recovered some and said, "You know, we couldn't do this in Texas. The insects in the grass would eat us alive." I started to explain about ticks and chiggers but decided I didn't want to think about them. I just said, "I'm glad there are no bugs here." and let the thought fade away.

I don't think she even heard me talking. She said, "That was nice Luke. I hope we get to do it again someday."

I said, "I'm hungry." We lay there until I recovered a little more.

She let me up and I slipped my jeans and sneakers on. The sun felt so good I left my shirt where it lay. I walked back to the car and brought the picnic basket and a blanket back.

By the time I returned, Michelin had dressed. She was glassing the opposite hill again. She said, "There is a red deer hind with her calf." I took the glasses and trained them on the place she indicated. They were there to see.

I said, "I understand they are closely related to our American elk. I would like to see a stag."

She said, "After we eat I'll find one for you." After we ate, she found me one. We watched him for about fifteen minutes until he moved out of sight. I couldn't tell how big he was but he was a young and beautiful animal. His back was straight and he didn't have a potbelly.

We lay on the blanket together and cuddled. She became quiet. I think she dropped off to sleep. I lay there holding her and enjoying being with her. There was a slight breeze blowing over us and the sunshine felt good. I think I fell asleep too.

I felt her shaking me. She said, "We have to go. It's almost four and it will be dark by six, thirty." She had changed clothes. I'm sure our combined fluids had made a mess of her pants earlier.

We walked back to the car and tucked everything back into the trunk. I held her for another minute and kissed her again. She said, "We just made my favorite spot a lot more special for me. Every time I come here, I will think of you."

I put the car in second gear and let the engine retard our speed as we descended the hill. I thought, "This little car is amazing."

We drove leisurely through the afternoon sunshine. I commented on the wonderful experience we had just shared. I said, "I can't believe how good the grass felt on my naked body." Then as an afterthought, I said, "Oh and the sex was pretty good too."

She slapped me softly on the shoulder and stuck her lower lip out. Then she leaned over the gear shifter and held my arm. She kissed my cheek. She said, "I will miss you when you go home." Then she asked, "Will we ever get to see each other again?"

I rolled her question over in thought for a few seconds then answered her. I said, "Yes, definitely."

Her blue eyes flashed and her whole face lit up with her smile. I thought, "Her smile and enthusiasm are definitely in the same class with Linda." She kissed my cheek again.

At length, we were on a switchback road going up on a high hill. We passed a sign that said, "Scenic Lookout ahead."

Micheline said, "Stop there. We will be able to see Loch Ness. Maybe Nessie will be about."

At the top, I pulled into a small car park. We were on top of a bluff probably a hundred feet high. The edge of the cliff was behind a row of stout wooden bollards about the diameter of a telephone pole at home. They were about three and a half feet high. There were three strands of heavy steel cable anchored at the ends and running through each post.

I nosed into the barrier and the loch lay below us. From this perspective, it looked like a long, narrow gash cut through the low mountains. Of course, that is exactly what it was. A gash cut there by a glacier during the last ice age.

We exited the car and walked together along the bluff. We came to a concrete bench placed at a strategic viewing point. We sat there together for a while. Finally, I whispered, in her ear, "Am I going to get laid while we are here?"

She giggled and answered, "Not unless I am assaulted. I cleaned myself as best I could, while you rested earlier but I must smell like an anchovy by now. No more sex until I can make myself sparkly for you." She leaned on me and let her body melt into mine. She continued, "Do you see that building on the lake shore there?"

I answered, "Yes."

She went on, "That is where we will spend the night. I am in a high state of anticipation. We will have the whole night together. There will be no interruptions or distractions. I am going to make it the most memorable night of your life so that you will always want to come back to me.

I backed off and just sat there holding her.

The sun sank in the sky until it touched a mountain peak, in the distance.

Michelin said, "Let's drive down there and get this night started."

The temperature had already started to fall. I opened the trunk and retrieved Michelin's jacket for her. I also took the two minutes it required to raise the top on the little green convertible. I reasoned I wouldn't have to do it later.

We started down the hill and Micheline said, "The temperature will drop another twenty degrees in the next hour. It will be cold in our bedchamber." The music of her sweet giggle filled the interior, of the small car.

She laid her head on my shoulder and held my arm. She made it difficult for me to drive but I managed. I could sense the rise in her excitement.

We drove to the inn and I parked under the porte-cochere

Michelin said, "The place is run by a little old couple. They only have three employees. One is a cook and the other two are housekeepers. There is no parking valet or door attendant. We can go and sign in, then come back out and unload our luggage. You can move the car at that time. I don't think there is any covered parking."

The old proprietors both came to the door and beckoned us inside.

We walked to the desk and Michelin announced our reservation. It was in Laird Wilkinson's name. I decided I would allow them to call me Laird Wilkinson while we were here. It would be easier than trying to explain the situation. Michelin giggled under her breath. We conducted our business.

The old man said, "The bar is open and the cook will be on duty for two more hours."

I said, "We will eat but a bath will be the first order of business. We have been riding in an open car all day."

The old man replied, "That will be fine Laird. If you give your dinner order to the cook, she can serve it an hour from now."

Michelin said, "Laird, let me order our dinner while you unload and park the car." She excused herself to the small dining room.

The old man accompanied me to the front door. He said, "That is a beautiful car. It must be near thirty years old."

I said, "Twenty, eight, I think."

He replied, "I had one when they were new. I'm sure that was in the late fifties. Mine was red." He hesitated then said, "You may unload here. If you like, drive around the corner of the building. I will open the door to my private garage. You may put her inside for the night."

I said, "Thank you, Sir. The car doesn't belong to me. I would hate for any harm to come to it."

The old man met me in the garage and we put the TR3 to bed. He cocked his head and said, "Ye aren't The Laird Wilkinson, are ya?"

I smiled at him and said, "No Sir, I am..."

He held up his hand to stop my speech. He said, "Michelin has stayed with us before. I'm sure she thinks I am too old to remember but I am not. The man she was with before was The Laird. It will be our secret, I won't even tell my wife. I will address you as Laird, while you are here."

I said, "So be it then and thank you." I let it go.

When we arrived back at the desk, I was given directions tour room.

The old woman said, "Laird, the Lady retrieved her bag from out front and went up ahead of you.

I went to the room and locked us in. I looked around. It was another ancient building. This one was mostly heavy timbers and wide expanses of plaster. I had noticed earlier that the roof was thatched. The thatch must have been several feet thick. It was already cool in the room. The fire was laid but not lit. The bed looked inviting. We would sleep enveloped in goose down again. The shower was running.

The bath was not like the one in my room at the manor. Here the fixtures were all old and showed signs of many years use. The plaster walls had many coats of glossy paint. A ceramic heater appeared to burn some gas or another. It was not burning. A plastic shower curtain hung from a curved rod that surrounded an old cast iron bathtub. The curtain was opaque but I knew Micheline was standing in the tub.

I stepped in beside her. A very powerful scent took control of my senses. It was not strawberries. The smell took me back to a time when I was younger and a place I had visited. It was an orange grove in Florida. The scent of real orange blossoms is powerful. What I was experiencing wasn't that strong but it was very pleasant.

I took a washcloth from her hand and rinsed it under the falling water. I wiped the lather from her face and kissed her gently. She allowed me to hold her and play touchy, feely for a few seconds. I said, "You smell nice and sparkly."

She said, "It is orange blossom. It's my new scent." Then she planted the seed in my brain. She held my swelling cock and whispered, "Whenever you smell orange blossoms you will think of me." It was like a hypnotic suggestion. I knew it would be true for the rest of my life.

I helped her rinse off and applied shampoo into her luxuriant hair. Then she bathed me. I love to have a woman bathe me. I love the feel of her touch all over my body. The monster came to full attention. She moved her hands up and down his length. She looked up into my eyes and said, "The monster is gorgeous, I want him inside me."

I said, "If we don't get out of this slippery tub, we are going to get hurt." I helped her rinse the shampoo from her hair then helped her from the tub. We toweled each other and she set about drying her hair.

I heard her giggle and ask what was funny.

She answered, "The old woman knows you aren't The Laird. She remembered him from an earlier visit. She thinks we are being naughty.

I chuckled.

She went on, "She promised she would keep my secret until her dying day. She said she wouldn't even tell her husband." She giggled and continued, "The old woman said she remembered her naughtiness when she was young."

Michelin and I both had a good laugh after I told her about my similar conversation with the old man. We decided it would be okay for them to help us be naughty. We both planned to be very naughty.

Micheline dried her hair and put it in a ponytail. Then she made it into a bun and pinned it to the top of her neck.

As we dressed, I asked, "What did you order for dinner?"

She said, "That will be a surprise for you. I think you will be pleased."

I said, "Do you know, if I weren't so hungry, we would skip dinner?"

She came to me and molded her body to mine as she kissed me. She whispered into my ear, "We have the whole night. You will beg for sleep before I finish with you."

I pulled the hairpin out of her bun and let her ponytail cascade down her back. I said, "Wear it that way for me."

She smiled and took my hand. We walked to the dining room.

Cook ushered us to a table adjacent to a bank of windows that offered a view of a garden patio with the lake beyond. Loch Ness was flooded in the moonlight and we could see points of light where boats floated.

Our places were already set. I seated Michelin then took my seat across from her.

The cook said, "I hope you enjoy the wine. It is from the master's private stock." She winked and said, "It is definitely better than the house wine. This is a fish house usually. We stock very little red wine." Cook paused and continued, "Soup is under the cover in front of you. Touch the bell when you are ready for the main course." She curtsied and retired to her kitchen.

I looked around the small room. There were two other couples seated. We were all separated as much as the cook could manage. Both of the other men kept stealing glances at Michelin. It was easy to look at her.

The soup was made with chicken, I think. It included several garden vegetables. It was good.

Micheline said, "I had no choice of soup. The cook makes a different one for each day of the week. This is evidently soup of the day, for Tuesday. She probably cooks for no more than ten to fifteen people each day. If everyone ordered something different, it would become a problem."

When the main course came, it was served sizzling on an iron plate. It was one of the most beautiful Porterhouse steaks, I had ever seen. I know my jaw dropped open. I looked across the table. Michelin's plate held a nice filet mignon, about an inch and a half thick.

Michelin said, "Linda told me what to order for you if I got the chance. It worked out perfectly. I hope it has been prepared properly."

I cut a bite-sized piece from the tail end. It was about half fat and half lean. The fat was translucent. The lean was red, runny in the middle, pink to the edge, and appeared to be burned to a crisp, on the outside. Out of reflex, I blew on it for a few seconds and popped it in my mouth.

I thought, "There are some things better than sex." I didn't say anything like that to the woman sitting across from me. I said, "I've made a final decision. You are definitely going home with me." I was rewarded, with a sweet tinkle of her laughter.

Cook appeared with a small vegetable plate for each of us and a dish of sautéed mushrooms. She placed the veggie plate next to our steaks and I allowed her to spoon mushrooms onto my steak until her arm became tired. I detected no seasonings beyond black pepper and salt. The meat was exquisite. It had less fat than the steaks I cook at home from my Brangus stock but still plenty enough to make the meat taste good. I resolved to question Bobby about the probable breed.

I lost control and ate too much. Micheline sat across from me. She seemed to glow in the candlelight. I sat and sipped my wine and wished for a glass of whisky.

The old woman appeared at the table. She curtsied in my direction and uttered, "M-Laird." She then bent and whispered in Michelin's ear.

As she rose, Michelin replied to her comment, which I had not heard. She said, "Do it now please, and thank you."

The old woman curtsied again and took two steps back from the table before she turned and exited the room.

I asked, "What was that about?"

Michelin giggled, a little louder than she intended, I think. Her giggle floated through the room like a musical note. She whispered so that only I could hear, "The sweet old woman wants to help us be naughty. She offered to send one of her young housekeeping girls, to warm our bed. I asked her to do it now."

A few drops of my wine went up my nose as I gasp for air at this comment. I recovered and said, "Wow, who would have expected that?" I hesitated then added, "I don't have Linda's permission to be involved with anyone but you."

Michelin bowed her head and put her hand to her mouth to stifle and even louder giggle. She looked up and whispered again, "No silly. A bed warmer is a utensil used in these old inns to warm a bed. It is a lightweight skillet shaped metal pan, with a tight-fitting lid and a long handle. The pan is filled with coals from a fireplace or the kitchen stove. It is passed back and forth, between the linen sheets on the bed. Thus the bed will be warm when we get there."

I was somewhat embarrassed by the conclusion that I had drawn. In my defense though, sex has been foremost on my mind, here of late.

Michelin looked again at me and became serious. She whispered, "Take me to bed Luke."

We thanked Cook for the fine meal and five minutes later, we walked into our room. The air was cool. I would have guessed the high fifties. There was a small fire flickering in the fireplace but there were no candles. There were several small electric lamps burning.