Montreal

I have to say I’m loving this city. Fantastic food, friendly people, diverse society, it’s delicious. And my word the shear volume of beautiful women here is staggering!

Just took a bike tour in the pouring rain and loved every minute.

Luv you!
J

20130628-150147.jpgbest bagels in Montreal!

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Out of the office

I’m sorry to say this but I will be out of the office for the next few days. I’m in Montreal on vacation and so I’m taking a little time off both work as well as writing.

If you’re upset I understand. In fact I’m elated. Such a strong emotional response would indicate a mild addiction to my writing and for me that’s quite satisfying.

If you’re feeling upset, just reread some of my earlier postings.

Till next time my loves,
Julian

20130627-154514.jpgthe view from my hotel

Strangers on a Train now on Amazon

It seems each story I submit to Amazon gets published in quicker succession. Perhaps that’s my own bias I’m not sure. At any rate, Strangers on a Train is now available for your consumption. I realize most of you have already read it but if you show me some support by purchasing it I’d appreciate your appreciation. 😉

Strangers on a Train
Now on Amazon!

New Coverart?

I’ve decided to try to get “Strangers on a Train” published. If successful it’ll be my fifth short story to get published. I’ve been struggling with trying to get a decent cover page to it, and so far I’ve only come up with one option:

 

Strangers on a Train-01

 

I’m curious as to what you think? Do you like it? Dislike it? What’s good/bad/horrible about it?

 

Let me know! =)

 

J.

100,000 words!

Last week I posted the latest chapter in the “From A to Z” story. It was at this point that I breached the 100, 000 word barrier.

It’s shocking to me. I’ve only been working at this since December, and yet I’ve already accumulated over 100,000 words of unique storytelling extracted directly from the recesses of my mind. This is in spite of also writing nearly 75,000 words in the form of short stories. As well as actually working for a living.

I think I am allowed to stop for a moment and take pause to admire the small accomplishment.

Thanks to all of you for supporting me through this!

 

Gratefully yours,

Julian

Truth #24

Do you have any fetishes and if so what are they?

 

You know it’s funny. The moment I included this question in the poll the other questions didn’t stand a chance.

So do I have any fetishes?

I hate to surprise you all but I’m afraid the answer may be “No.”

May be? Why “May be”?

 

Well to be honest I’m not sure when a turn-on turns into a fetish. For example, there isn’t a single thing that I’ve written that I haven’t or wouldn’t try. While there are some elements of a number of my stories that introduce a certain fetish quality to them I don’t feel like they really are. I suppose it depends on perspective.

 

So with that now about as clear as mud you’re probably trying to think back to individual stories and wonder which I’ve done and which I’ve still to try. Well you’ll have to keep guessing. Lol

 

I think as it is I’m not the fetish type. There isn’t one particular thing that I’m completely focused on and can’t reach a climax without. For example I don’t have to have violent rough sex to cum but I certainly don’t mind it.

 

Is that answer adequate enough?

 

How the rest of you? Do you have fetishes? What quirky things do you like or abhor during a sexual encounter?

 

 

ps. I’m having trouble creating the poll for next week. As I’m going through the list of questions I have to choose from in this post, the remaining questions seem inane or boring. I need help creating more. If you’re interested, pop some questions in the comments of either this current post or the previously noted post, and I’ll pick three to include in this weeks poll.

 

 

 

the Road Trip – Chapter 1: Ruby Beach, Almost

This story was inspired by three things in particular, well…..four I guess in total.

Firstly, Venice & Ryan Bloggs and their “Fuck it-List” a brilliant take on the Bucket list sensation.

Secondly, my uncle who had/has leukemia and was able to make it to remission successfully with the absolutely fantastic care of the Canadian healthcare system.

Thirdly, my own trip down the West coast of the United States. I’ve driven this route and I have to say if you’re ever going to take a long road trip, this is one that you should try to do.

 

….the fourth inspiration is simply my untamed brain which seems to find sex in everything and anything. =)

 

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

 

The Road Trip

 

 

Chapter 1 – Ruby Beach, Almost

 

 

 

“When did this get on the list?” Rodney said with a huff, taking the paper off the fridge where it had been for weeks and waving it in Sarah’s direction.

 

 

“It was always there Rod,” Sarah replied with a smirk, “I just made a slight amendment.”

 

 

“It’s a pretty big amendment,” Rodney scowled. He knew he had told her, “Anything goes.” But he didn’t expect her to really push the boundaries this much.

 

 

“You said anything,” Sarah reminded him.

 

 

“I know…”

 

 

“You said if I get healthy enough you and I will do as many things as we can before….”

 

 

Rodney interrupted “I know.”

 

 

Sarah was healthy now but it was likely only temporary. The doctors had not given her the best prognosis. Her particular type of leukemia gave her a less than 20% chance of survival and even if she did end up in remission her chance of regression was very high. The doctors had been frank with her and Rodney which they appreciated despite the long nights of tear filled hugs the honesty had caused.

 

 

Sarah was only 31. She had so much more life to live. So many things she wanted to do and to experience. She and Rodney wanted to have kids but that was impossibility now. Sarah was well aware that her time was fast approaching. She and Rodney had created a bucket list for her it was through great effort and perseverance that she fought through the chemo to make it to this point.

 

 

Sarah had always wanted to travel the world. Seeing foreign countries and experiencing other cultures. She had always thought there would be more time. One of the items on her list was to travel down the west coast from Washington to Southern California in an RV with her husband. This was the line item that she had made an amendment to. Next to the large bold times new roman type was something she had jotted down in dark blue pen. “Fucking any cute guy or gal that will let us.”

 

 

Rodney was surprised to see the updated entry but not completely shocked. As she was going through her treatments Sarah and him had found a new level of candor in their relationship. The threat of impending death probably does that to any relationship. It can either push you apart or pull you together. Sarah and Rodney had talked about things they always wanted to do but didn’t because of time or other constraints. Sarah told him about always wanting to visit Paris. Rodney told her about visiting Machu Picchu. This was how they began this bucket list.

 

 

During one of these moments of honesty Sarah had offhandedly mentioned to Rodney that she had always wanted to try a threesome but never found the courage to ask for it. He was dumbfounded. She had always outwardly appeared to be a conservative woman. She was the girl next door type and this was what initially had grabbed his attention. She never did herself up in obscene amounts of makeup. She dressed down, subdued and casual. Her long blonde hair was continuously in a ponytail never styled or teased into a state worthy of a cover shoot for a magazine. As well despite her shapely curves it was only in the comfort of a dimly lit bedroom that Rodney ever got to see them.

 

 

Rodney had also wanted to try a threesome and perhaps much more but felt like he had to suppress these desires for the sake of Sarah’s love. To find out that she had the same desires as he did was both liberating and depressing. If they had been able to be this honest with each other earlier in their relationship perhaps things would be different. “Well I suppose it’s on the list then isn’t it.” He mused, replacing the paper to the fridge and securing it with a magnet. “I guess we have to do it now don’t we?”

 

 

Sarah smirked and winked at him. The chemo had messed with her body but the one thing that never died was her libido. It was such an awful feeling to be so incredibly tired and sick yet still so anxious to be intimate. Now that she was finally feeling so much healthier Sarah was overwhelmed with raging desires for sex. She wanted to man handle any man or woman that looked even reasonably attractive. Since she had trouble sleeping she’d often sit in bed next to Rodney and imagine scenarios where she had brought a girl home for them to play with. Or perhaps she’d have her own boy toy and “force” Rodney to sit in the corner and watch them. All manner of permutations and combinations raced through her mind as she sat there awake in the dark. On more than one occasion she had slipped under the sheets and taken her husband’s beautiful cock into her mouth, teasing him while he slept.

 

 

Rodney was her rock through all of this. He was an average guy with average looks but what he lacked in physical appearance he made up for everywhere else. He was a man of strong character and conviction. When he set his mind to something he accomplished it. When he promised something he never reneged on it. He was a glorious man and utterly perfect in Sarah’s eyes. With each passing day he was more handsome to her than before. His eyes were greener, his hair blacker, his shoulders stronger, and his back thicker. Rodney was her personal knight in shining armor. She felt the deep need to share this with the world. She wanted to show him off. She wanted everyone to know how incredible he was. Sarah had supposed that it was this desire that drove her to wishing to share their bed with others.

 

 

“You’re the best husband ever.” Sarah laughed before walking up to him and running her hand down his chest and over his cock. He smiled and blew her a kiss.

 

 

“Final exams are in a couple of weeks. How about you book the RV next week and we’ll start planning our route.” Rodney said with a beaming smile. The biggest draw for being a teacher was having summers off. He didn’t mind kids too much. He was good at handling their particular brand of insanity. But having summers off guaranteed every year was a delight.

 

 

Next week Sarah texted Rodney while he was in class “RV is booked. We pick it up in Seattle. Can’t wait to fk u silly in it. Now be a good boy and try not to pop a boner in class. Lol” several seconds later Rodney’s cell vibrated on his desk while he was in the middle of reviewing covalent bonds with his students. He read the message as he spoke, choking back a chuckle. The first moment he was free he texted her back “summer luvin’…” And immediately received the expected reply “…had me a blast. Lol” It was Sarah’s and Rodney’s inside joke. Because of her naturally blonde hair and often more plain looks, anytime she dressed up Rodney could be heard yelling “Sannnnnndy!” Like Danny in Grease. To which Sarah would respond “Tell me about it…stud.” This was assisted by Sarah’s passing resemblance to Olivia Newton-John and Rodney’s wavy jet black hair making him Travolta, if only with a smaller head and slightly less hair product.

 

 

A few short weeks later they were on a plane from their little boring corner of the Midwest to emerald green Seattle. Sarah’s hair was coming back nicely and she felt stronger and healthier each day. Rodney also noted how much friskier his wife was. While ordinarily she would keep public displays of affection to a minimum, since she was in remission he would often be accosted by her wandering hand in the middle of the supermarket. He felt like a silly teenager again, sprouting erections at the most awkwardness of times. Nothing says inappropriate like your wife flashing her panty-less crotch just before standing for the opening hymn at church. Sarah felt like she was owed it. She felt like life was far too short to spend it worrying about the opinions of uptight prudes. So she made a game of it. Whispering dirty things into Rodney’s ear as he tried to order food in the drive through. Flashing her breasts to the attendant filling her gas tank as Rodney went inside to pay. Calling random numbers from home and jumping immediately into sex talk before the other person knew what was happening.

 

 

Whatever Sarah fancied doing she did. But best of a Rodney supported her in it. As much as she was the one going through this devastating disease, Rodney looked like he aged 15 years in a matter of months while she was in chemo. Now that she was healthier she made sure to show her appreciation for his love and support. Games, fantasies and all manner of things she would have shunned before cancer she decided to try. There were some hits and some misses. She did find out that cuffs were ok as long as they were the fluffy kind. The real ones pinched too much. Ropes were good as long as they were thicker nylon. Feathers were a god send, and candle wax …definitely not a fan of it.

 

 

At first it was hard to be intimate with Rodney. She felt so self conscious about her appearance. When the chemo was finally done she felt like she looked more like a skeleton than a vivacious woman that she was in her mind. In time, however, and with Rodney’s constant encouragement and reassurance she regained all the confidence she once had but without the inhibitions that used to restrain her.

 

 

The most tragic of all of this was she was no longer had a chance of conceiving a child. The radiation treatments and her age had seen to that. She and Rodney had put it off for so long thinking there would always be time. But the time slipped away and now, the chance was gone. Sarah had decided then, that of she couldn’t provide a son or daughter for her husband, she was going to provide him with an absolutely legendary sex life. So while Rodney’s coworkers sat with him in the teachers’ lounge and felt guilty for their full family lives, he would be receiving numerous salacious texts from Sarah. She would send pictures of her in various states of disrobe or a delicious suggestion of what next on their “fuck it bucket list” they would attempt. In a fit of pure mania she sent a picture of her and her physiotherapist in a deep wet kiss. The kiss was posed of course with the help of Tanya her therapist but posed or not it got both Rodney and Sarah thinking.

 

 

Tanya had become great friends with Sarah over the time they had spent together during her recovery. Tanya was a lesbian, and a proud one at that. She made no apologies for her choices and sometimes during their sessions Tanya would overtly hit on Sarah. At the time Tanya knew of Sarah’s body image issues and felt that even though she was employed to take care of her physical recovery she could quite handily help with some of those esteem issues. It had worked, much to Sarah’s surprise. She had never really considered women as an option but after hearing Tanya talk about her past girlfriends and how amazing she thought Sarah’s ass was her opinion wavered. She had mentioned this in an offhand remark to Rodney and to her surprise he fully supported her if she decided that she wanted to experiment with Tanya. Rodney, like most heterosexual men, found the lure of lesbianism somehow irresistible. Two sessions later he received the naughty wet lesbian kiss picture while at lunch. That evening he came home and had one of the most explosive lovemaking sessions that the couple had ever experienced. Despite Tanya not being in the room in Rodney’s mind she was there and he was intoxicated with the thought.

 

 

A few weeks later he was sitting in the corner biting his lip and shaking his head in excitement as he watched his wife explore her first lesbian experience right in front of him. Tanya had some interesting techniques he had not even thought of, and watching his wife moaning and writhing under the expert hand, and tongue of a lifelong lesbian was undeniably hot. Tanya even was good enough to stick around as he took his turn at Sarah. After he was done, spent, and listless, she took over and sent Sarah into blissful oblivion several more times. As much as he knew outwardly to say she never looked more beautiful than on their wedding day that particular night made him a liar from that point on.

 

 

Even while on the plane Sarah and Rodney were still in the process of planning out their trip. There was no big rush. Because of her health Sarah had been on sick leave from her executive job at the bank for almost a year now. Rodney had nearly two full months off consecutively. With nothing to tie them down at home, they were free to breeze down the coast at their leisure. As such they had no intention of taking the interstate. Instead they were going to travel down Highway 101 all the way from Seattle to San Diego. Unlike the I-5, Highway 101 hugged the very edge of the coast. It ran through a multitude of parks and boasted unbelievable coastal vistas. The plan was to only travel from noon till 6pm each day. There were enough small picturesque towns and beaches that Sarah and Rodney would have number of beautiful options to settle down for the evening and enjoy seeing the sunset from a new spot each night. If there was one thing the couple had learned through this experience was to stop and soak up each moment. Instead of rushing down the quickest route they were designing their trip to relax.

 

 

Now obviously Sarah has made the surprising suggestion to Rodney that they stop and fuck any couple or single male or female they found along the way, but that was an unknown. Who was to say how easily they would be able to find willing participators. Sarah and Rodney had been together so long that neither was quite that adept at picking up anyone. They were far from bar stars, and didn’t have the swagger of expert swingers. With this in mind, and wanting to ensure that Sarah wasn’t going to be disappointed, Rodney has secretly planned ahead and got in contact with a number of swingers clubs along the route. Though he was initially surprised how many clubs there were considering the small size of most of the towns, he had reasoned that the more liberal minded and marijuana friendly west coast naturally lent itself to these sorts of things. At any rate, before they had even purchased the plane tickets Rodney had accumulated numerous contacts and suggested hangouts to find what Sarah was looking for.

 

 

After landing in Seattle the two took the first cab they found straight to the RV rental establishment. Luckily for them this rental company had numerous locations on the coast and was able to allow a one way rental to San Diego. After picking up the RV the next stop they made was to a local sex shop. Once there they picked up a month’s worth of lube, condoms, and other toys that one wouldn’t dare being in their carry-on luggage. Sarah had giggled as the clerk bagged all the items that it would have been more cost effective if they could have purchased it all in bulk at Costco. By 2pm they were on the road and exiting Seattle on their way into legend.

 

 

With the day already on its way Rodney decided to make a beeline for their first destination. With Sarah in the back of the RV getting items sorted and stowed, Rodney took the next step on their journey adjusting the GPS unit to avoid all interstate roads. He plugged in the destination and out popped the route. Looking at it, he made one small change then placed it back in its perch on the dashboard. “In 250 yards, take next exit right to Highway 101.” the electronic woman’s voice commanded. “Yes ma’am.” Rodney answered back, chuckling to himself. Sarah had finished hanging, folding and arranging all of their clothes and now had moved on to other important items such as, where to store all condoms, lube, and toys. She also chuckled to herself and bit her lip with a small squeal of anticipation. They were journeying into the unknown and like any journey of this nature it was both thrilling and nerve racking. She made her way from the back of the RV to the expansive cabin to sit next to Rodney in the co-pilot’s chair. Nodding to herself as she stroked the arms of the chair, pushed buttons on the dash, and looking around the RV from this new perspective Sarah was clearly pleased with herself.

 

 

“It’s bigger than I was expecting.” Sarah said with a laugh.

 

 

“I seem to recall you saying that about me too.” Rodney quipped, the joke locked and loaded for any opportunity. Sarah swung over to slap him on the shoulder but missed due to the vehicle’s width and her lack of reach. “But I agree. When you showed me the pictures you couldn’t get a sense of how big this thing is, but now that we’re here, damn it’s huge!” he laughed loudly. He was still getting used to the vehicle and Seattle traffic was blasting by him as if he was stationary. Changing lanes took some getting used to as he no longer had the ability to check a rear view mirror nor even shoulder check. To compensate Rodney was driving about 10 mph below the speed limit. With everyone else driving 20 mph above it, the RV was like a large rock in a fast stream, just getting in the way. He signaled and accidentally shoulder checked into the back of the RV for the last time before they reached Highway 101.

 

 

A few short hours later Sarah had reached across the gap between them to grasp Rodney’s hand. She was looking out at the Pacific Ocean for the first time in her life. Across from them was the Strait of Juan de Fuca and in the distance she could make out the tip of Vancouver Island. Sarah smiled to herself and let out a contented sigh. She had made it. An alarm went off on her phone and she walked to the back of the RV, retrieved numerous pills and began the dutiful task of downing each of them one at a time. None of them tasted that great, but then they were never really designed to be enjoyable. They were designed to keep her alive. She placed the bottles back in their new storage area and grabbed to sodas from the cute little fridge. She brought them back up to Rodney and he graciously accepted without taking his eyes off the road. Highway 101 was not a very large thoroughfare. It was two-way traffic at 60 mph speeds. With the vehicle still feeling bloated to him, he found it hard not to panic about running off the shoulder, or running into oncoming traffic.

 

 

“According to Lucy we’ll be at Ruby Beach in two hours.” he told Sarah, talking out of the corner of his mouth as people do when they don’t want to turn their heads. She nodded in response before stopping and turning to look at Rodney.

“Who’s Lucy?” she asked, confused at the apparent third passenger that didn’t have a corporeal form.

Rodney took his right hand off the wheel briefly pointing to the GPS before quickly returning it to the “Two” position of 10 and 2 driving fame.

 

 

Sarah chuckled, “You named the GPS Lucy? Why would you name it Lucy?”

 

 

“It’s not an it, it’s a her,” he corrected “and I figured if I’m going to take orders from a strange woman’s disembodied voice, I should at least know her name.” He pointed to the GPS and then to Sarah, “Lucy, this is Sarah. Sarah, Lucy.” and he smirked to himself as yet another large truck passed by going the opposite direction missing the RV by feet that felt like inches. He took a quick breath and tried to relax.

 

 

“I think you named her Lucy,” Sarah said with a smoother more sultry tone now standing next to Rodney, “because you enjoy having women tell you what to do with your big…fat…..RV.” she drew out the last words as she whispered into his ear, dragging her hand up the inside of his thigh to rest on his crotch. Rodney took another quick gasp as he felt the tender fingers of his wife run over his balls, and stiffening cock. He dared not turn to look at her as another truck passed inches away. The sense of imminent danger was palpable. “I bet your Lucy would love to do this if she could…” Sarah continued, drawing his fly down as she nibbled on his ear.

 

 

Rodney grunted and then mouthed the words, “Fuck me.” His wife was insatiable, and while ordinarily that was a delight he feared what may come next and whether or not he could power through the distraction and not veer into the guardrail on one side, or oncoming traffic on the other side.

 

 

Sarah ran her hand down her husband’s chest, feeling each quick breath and each beat of his heart. Once more she allowed her hand to rest on his crotch. Despite Rodney’s twitchy appearance his body agreed with her attentiveness and she felt the hardness of his cock expanding against the increasingly strained underwear. Rodney gasped once more as her delicate hand reached inside the fly of his underwear and made first contact with his sex. Her fingers were refreshingly cool and despite having experienced her touch many times before, it still came as a delightful shock. Sarah reached in further and gripped his shaft tightly, pulling it back and to the side straight through the opening her hand had just traveled. Rodney took a glance over at Sarah; her gaze was fixed on his manhood. He glanced up at the road and it was suitably empty, at least for now. He reset the cruise control to a lower speed and graciously spread his legs further to allow his wife better access. She was gently stroking him now, sliding her hand up and down his shaft, feeling its heat, its smooth pulsating head, its ridges and veins. Sarah bit her lip as she did so. She wanted his cock so bad. She wanted to taste him and have him in her mouth. To feel his sex running in and out as she danced her tongue around it. Sarah wanted to hear Rodney moan. She wanted to feel his hand upon her head, tangling his fist in her hair and tugging her where he needed her attention. She continued to slide her hand up and down and smirked to herself as a small clear drop of pre-cum emerged from his sweet delicious sex.

 

 

Rodney tried desperately to concentrate on the road but Sarah’s hand was just perfect. She had long ago discovered the right pressure, tension and stroke rate to drive Rodney wild. He heard himself moan as he enjoyed her attention but just as another vehicle sped by them, he felt the warm wet embrace of Sarah’s loving mouth. She took his cock slowly into her, letting her tongue swirl around his head as she took him deeper. As she did she could feel his hips slightly grind up into her and she couldn’t help but get excited. She loved giving Rodney head. She loved being in control of his body. She loved teasing him and pushing him to new levels of excitement. But most of all, she just loved when he lost his mind and blasted a hot, thick, salty sweet helping of cum into her mouth. It was the delicious cherry on top of a beautiful tasty cock sundae. She pulled her mouth off of him and smiled, slowly stroking his sex as it glistened in the darkened cabin of the speeding RV.

 

 

Rodney looked down at his beautiful wife. Her big blue eyes staring back up at him. She looked serene and happy as she wistfully thought about the trip to come. Almost absentmindedly she stroked Rodney’s cock. It was only his sudden gasp that reminded her of the current situation. “How long till we get there?” She asked no longer looking at Rodney but instead looking at his erect shaft.

 

 

Rodney reached over Sarah and grabbed “Lucy”. After a moment he returned the device and stated “Two hours. Why?”

 

 

“Do you think you could recover by then?” She continued while reaching her tongue out to circle the head of his straining cock while gripping and gently twisting the shaft the way she knew he liked.

 

 

“Fuuuuck.” Rodney groaned wriggling in his chair. He wasn’t sure if his answer should be a yes or a no but the sweet pleasurable torture Sarah was enacting on him was too much to give up. “Sure, sure I can.” He mumbled. A series of vehicles flew by the RV in the opposite direction causing the great beastly machine to shudder just as its driver was.

 

 

“You better or there’ll be trouble,” was Sarah’s only retort before dropping down and engulfing his sex once more into her loving mouth. Rodney slapped the armrest and moaned simultaneously mashing his foot down on the accelerator. Not expecting the sudden jolt of speed he panicked and grabbed the wheel swerving the RV back and forth if only slightly. Sarah gripped Rodney roughly but didn’t let his cock out of her mouth if anything she accidentally took him even deeper. He moaned in appreciation before letting out a nervous chuckle.

 

 

“Well that was close.” He laughed.

 

 

Sarah took his spit slickened member out of her mouth momentarily to say “I can think of worse reasons to crash.” She slid her hand down his shaft and cupped Rodney’s balls gently in her hand, “but I think you’re going to roll this monstrosity if I go any further.”

 

 

Rodney groaned in protest. As much as it was irresponsible and very dangerous he didn’t want anything else in this moment. Looking ahead he saw a sign approaching indicating there was a picturesque viewing spot in half a mile. “One more mile,” he said to Sarah. “Just one more mile.”

 

 

Sarah shrugged and dove back onto his cock. She really loved Rodney’s penis. There was no point where she had to decide to enjoy it. Or decide to like it. She didn’t have to get past anything distasteful or odd. Right from the first time she saw his hard cock in front of her she knew she loved it. Sarah loved the way it felt in her hand. How the head was shaped. Its ridges. It’s heat. It was so distinctly male. So primal and beautiful. It looked angry, aggressive and mean. Sarah adored it. With renewed excitement she ran her mouth back up and down on his sex. She felt Rodney’s hand on her head and the tight sensual sting of her hair being pulled as he directed her where he needed her most. Rodney was moaning and thrusting his hips up into her waiting mouth which only encouraged Sarah to go further.

 

 

Moments later the tires squealed as the RV swung hard to the right, rumbling up a short incline to the previously indicated vista. The large vehicle pitched forward as Rodney hammered on the brakes. He sat for a moment looking out at the ocean, his beautiful wife completely engrossed in her self-appointed task. Rodney gripped her head roughly and pulled her up to see what she was missing. She smiled at the sight. It was her first view of the Pacific Ocean; Rodney intended it to be memorable. Now that she was standing Rodney quickly extracted himself from the large pilot’s chair, his spit slickened cock awkwardly swinging about hitting things as he moved. With his hand still on Sarah’s head he pushed her tight up to the dash. Instinctively she spread her arms out to the side and bit her lip in anticipation of what was to come. Rodney loved taking her from behind. He loved the way her back contorted and flexed as she tensed up with each tender teasing. He loved the way she looked back at him as he slid his thickened phallus deep into her. He loved gripping and spanking her small but enticingly cute ass. Sarah loved it even more. She arched her back and spread her legs slightly. Rodney flipped up her cute loose fitting skirt and was delighted to find she had ditched her panties earlier that evening. With a carnivorous tongue he stabbed at her before licking her pussy from her clit all the way back up and over her tender tight asshole. Sarah shuddered and bit her lip. Rodney was such an expert in his oral attention. He said it was because he thought he had a small penis and worked hard to compensate for it. Sarah knew better. He was deliciously well-endowed but just didn’t realize it. He was the male equivalent of a late blooming sexy woman. The over compensation for a trait he didn’t have made him an excellent lover. The best Sarah had experienced, at least, the best she’d experienced so far.

 

 

She giggled to herself at the thought. As Rodney continued to lash at her throbbing excited pussy with his tongue, Sarah’s mind wandered over the premise of this trip. Thinking of the new experiences they would share, the people they’d meet, and the hot sex they were bound to have made Sarah’s legs shudder and twinge a little. She was incredibly turned on. Her husband’s tongue was working its magic behind her. She reveled in it, moaning and pushing herself back onto him. It was almost so engrossing that she failed to notice the young couple in the car in front of her, making out as well. She opened her mouth and squealed as Rodney brought his hand down onto her ass. Spanking her and telling her she was such a bad girl. She was. She really was. She was watching the couple kissing and caressing each other in the open aired convertible. Sarah desperately wanted them to be aware of her presence. She wanted the other couple to share in the mutual excitement. Rodney spanked her again and once more she squealed. Unintentionally louder than last time. She saw a flash of eyes and smirked as the female counterpart from the car in front looked up and saw her there. From her view, Sarah was simply an odd woman leaning on the console of her RV and squealing for no reason. She scowled at Sarah, not understanding what was happening. She tapped her partner on the shoulder and gestured with her head to look up at Sarah. The man, less upset and more amused simply winked at Sarah before returning to kiss his companion. She was less amused. She wasn’t really enticed by the thought of a strange woman squealing and staring at them. This all changed, however when Rodney stood up, grabbed Sarah’s hair roughly, and pulled her back towards him. He bit her neck and growled into her ear, “You’re mine now you dirty little bitch.” and Sarah shuddered and moaned. Rodney looked up and caught the eye of the young woman who suddenly and quite unexpectedly, at least for her, gasped and shuddered herself. The look in Rodney’s eyes was intense and unforgiving. He glared at her as if to say, “You’re next.” and the young woman was enthralled. Her partner believing it to be all his attention and none of the new man in the picture continued to clumsily kiss and fondle her as she stared at Rodney.

 

 

“Fuck me.” Sarah moaned, “I want it so badly baby. I need you in me right now.” she pushed her body back towards her loving husband and felt the heat of his cock push against her naked ass.

 

 

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Rodney growled again. “You’d like this dick inside of you wouldn’t you?” Sarah nodded without saying a word. “You want to show them how much you love it don’t you?” he continued, reaching down and caressing her very wet pussy. Rodney slid a finger into her and smiled as she gasped. He grinned and stared at the young woman as he continued to slide his finger back and forth. Sarah moaned as she ached for it. Her pussy was drenched. She was so terribly excited she didn’t know how much teasing she could really take. Sarah could feel his finger exploring her, touching her inside and setting off mini explosions of pleasure within her. It felt good, but she definitely wanted more. Sarah turned Rodney and whimpered wiggling her ass from side to side. Gently he extracted his finger then ran it slowly down her slit to her pulsating clit. She moaned and arched her back further, once more pushing back to him. He lovingly drew little circles over her sensitive sex before running his fingers back over her pussy. Then with a quick expert motion Rodney paired two fingers together and slid them into Sarah spreading his fingers and twisting as he eased himself into her. The pleasure of his technique was exquisite and she squealed for the third time. The young man in the car in front of them looked up again, certain that he was the cause of all the commotion in the RV. Upon raising his gaze he saw Rodney ravaging his wife. The shock of seeing another man where he thought was none was startling to say the least. The two men locked looks and primal instinct took over. Despite the awkwardness of the sudden revelation, the young man’s animal brain intensified the aggressiveness within him and he began to increase the ferocity of his attack on his partner. She was all for it. Deep inside, even though she wanted to be wooed and loved, she knew she wanted to be savagely fucked by her man. She never found the words to say it, nor the guts to bring it up, but now suddenly without warning he was the man she deeply wished he would be.

 

 

Rodney was not immune to the influence of millions of years of evolution and survival instincts. He slid his two fingers in and out of Sarah and reveled in her loud incomprehensible mix of grunts and ramblings. He tugged on her short blond hair and pulled her head back to him at an awkward angle. Her neck bent back he kissed her lovingly on her forehead as he simultaneously withdrew his fingers, and slid his aching cock into the warm wet embrace of her spasming pussy. Sarah gasped and squealed again. The young couple looked up again and both enjoyed seeing the sight of Sarah losing her mind. Taking a cue from the older couple in the RV, the young man pulled his partner up and spun her around. She rested over the trunk of the convertible as her suddenly savage boyfriend slid his cock into her. Now both couples fucked with passion and abandon watching each other with vicious intent. Rodney glared at the young woman and she melted. His angry alpha male demeanor made her quiver and only served to entice her lover to fuck her even harder. The shiny silver convertible rocked back and forth with each thrust of his cock into her and she closed her eyes and gasped with excitement. Sarah watched the couple and moaned. She knew exactly how the young woman was feeling. Her naked breasts were pressed up against the cold metal of the convertible and Sarah could almost feel it just by seeing her. Rodney thrust harder, and deeper, the rough slapping of her ass meeting his hips echoing through the large RV. He brought his hand down again onto her small cute ass and enjoyed watching a red hand shaped mark slowly appear on Sarah’s skin. “Roll….roll….” she muttered between thrusts, “roll down….f-u-uu-u-ck…roll down the window!” she managed to blurt finally. “I ….I fucccck….I wanna hear them!” she shouted as Rodney gripped her hard and slammed into her.

 

 

Pausing for a moment he leant over and smacked the two buttons for the driver and passenger windows. Automatically they lowered with a gentle whir. As they did the sounds outside the RV became increasingly louder. Sarah could hear the ocean crashing against the nearby shore. She could hear the rumble of the RV’s engine. She could hear the trees swaying as the off shore breezes played with the rising heat of the air on land. Slowly her mind filtered out all of the background noise and she heard what she wanted. Near to her now she could make out the erratic gasps and slaps of the rival couple in their car. There was a regular gently squeaking of protest coming from the poor helpless mechanical beast they were defiling, but this was nothing compared to the grunts and moans of the couple themselves. The sound reaching Sarah’s ears caused her immediately to squeal in excitement, “Fuuuuck yesssss.” she moaned. The couple looked back up at her, surprised to suddenly hear the voices of two more people when it was only them before.

 

 

Rodney chuckled to himself as he managed to make out the young woman whispering to her partner, “Fuck….that’s hot….”. The crystal clear silence of the small vista allowed both couples to hear each other as if they were right next to one another. “I agree,” growled Rodney and he drove himself hard into his wife, he flexed his PC muscle and the head of his cock responded by expanding and relaxing. Sarah moaned loudly feeling Rodney’s thickness pulsing within her. The young woman moaned in turn as she fell under the spell of Sarah and Rodney. Her male counterpart was also enticed but was completely focused on trying to outdo the older more experienced man. He viciously fucked his young companion gripping her shoulders and pounding his cock into her. The convertible rocked back and forth squeaking and complaining with every movement. The young woman had locked eyes with Rodney though, her mouth open wide as she gasped and moaned. As much as she knew it was her lovers sex within her, she felt like it was Rodney that was actually fucking her. The thought of having the man’s penis inside her, this stranger, this aggressive mean looking man fucking her in front of her boyfriend. She started to lose her mind. Sarah knew exactly what was happening. She had fallen under her husband’s spell a long time ago.

 

 

She sneered and shouted. “Cum for him you little tart.” She stopped to moan once more as Rodney grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled her back into him, “Cum all over his cock while you think about my husband fucking you!” she continued. The vile and vicious statement disturbingly true. The young woman was shocked but she couldn’t help but be even more excited. What she was thinking was wrong, what she was doing was wrong, but she wanted it so bad. She was being bad and she couldn’t help it. She was getting fucked by one man while her mind was being fucked by another. Her legs shuddered, her eyes rolled back and she let out a long protracted moan as her pussy spasmed over her young lover’s cock in a soul quaking orgasm. The man grunted loudly as her slickened sex clamped down on his cock. “Now cum in her mouth like a good little boy!” Sarah commanded, now directing the scene in front of her. Hearing the words he could think of nothing else. He spun his still spasming lover around to face him and with a quick few strokes spewed his thick white cum into her mouth. She gripped his hips and took his sensitive cock into her mouth, catching the last few shots directly into her mouth and instinctively swallowing immediately. Sarah spasmed at the sight. Her pussy shivered and buzzed with excitement as she felt her body losing control. Rodney kept the slow deep thrusts regular and agonizing as she inched towards her own orgasm. She watched the woman clean up her partner, licking his sweet juice off his cock and his balls before she turned to Sarah and smacked her lips together indicating she loved the taste. The young couple locked eyes with Sarah and it was all she could take. Her legs began to twitch and the RV faded from her view. She couldn’t see anything or feel anything else. Her entire body felt electrified as wave after wave of ever increasing pleasure blasted through her body. She spasmed and shuddered as Rodney kept sliding his thick sex into her. He could feel her twitching around his cock and as she reached down to tug on his balls he lost control himself, blasting a thick load deep inside his wife as she finished her own orgasm. “Fuuuuuuuuuck.” she moaned, delighting in the full, wet, messy feeling.

 

 

Rodney and Sarah slowly regained their composure. They chuckled at each other and kissed. It was a glorious start to this epic trip. “We should probably introduce ourselves don’t you think?” Sarah asked her wobbly legged husband. “It’s only polite.”

 

 

He smiled and nodded in agreement. As he bent over to retrieve his pants he heard the door open and his wife bounded out of the RV. By the time he had stood back up she was shaking hands with the couple and congratulating them on an excellent performance. As Rodney walked up to them he saw the look in the young woman’s eyes. Something was whispered between the two women and the nodded gleefully. The two men looked at each other with puzzled expressions and both shrugged without exchanging a word. Sarah turned to Rodney and smiled before winking and saying, “This is Melissa.” she placed her hand on Melissa’s shoulder, “and this is Geoff.” she finished, placing her hand on Geoff’s still naked stomach. “They’re going to have dinner with us tonight. How’s that sound?”

 

 

Rodney smiled and then looked at Sarah with a mischievous smirk, “Sounds good,” then looked at the young woman, “I’m already looking forward to dessert.”

 

 

All four laughed and made their way back to the RV.

 

 

Ruby Beach could wait till tomorrow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 27 – A New Path

Chapter 27 – A New Path

You watched the tow truck motor out of view and sighed to yourself. The house suddenly seemed bigger, quieter, and less alive. “Fuck.” you muttered under your breath, turning inside and closing the door. You had no intentions of developing feelings for some random stranger and yet you could taste them like salt in the air miles from the ocean. You clenched your eyes tight and shook your head insisting on continuing your day as planned. What was the plan though? You stood in the front hallway and looked around, trying to recall what it was you needed to do. The walls were sparsely decorated with paintings and photos. Other than the few you received from Leon, none of these were selected by you. This house was your home for almost your entire life, and yet in this moment you felt like a stranger in it.

You wandered from room to room, recalling old memories of growing up with your brother and sister; chasing each other down the hallway and out the door as your mom shouted from the kitchen, “No running in the house!” You walked down to the end of the hallway to the room you now called yours. The master bedroom still haunted by the fresh hurt of your departed parents. Your eyes closed tightly as you watched your younger self bounding onto the bed to serve your mom breakfast in bed on Mother’s Day. Your dad just behind you encouraging you to explain the odd concoctions you had created in her honor. “This is a mash potato omelette!” you excitedly blurted, pointing to the mass of yellow and whitish grey in the center of the plate. “I know you like potatoes and eggs so I put them together! Do you like it?” Your mom, ever the diplomat never said a bad word about it as your sister and brother came in with their own dishes of mystery food why your dad laughed hysterically from just outside the room.

You missed them. The ache in your chest burst as the memories locked away became fresh once more. Tears streamed down your face as you turned to walk away from their room. Your room, though it didn’t feel like it was yours anymore. The lump in your throat stung and you sniffled to yourself. WIthout a second thought you slid on a pair of high winter boots and your warm winter parka. Wiping your tears away with a thick woolen mit you stepped outside into the cold biting air. You trudged down the steps and off to the barn. This time there was no one to chase, and no one following. There was no intriguing conversation. No company to keep. You sludged your way through the drifted snow and with great effort managed to pull the large barn door open. Thunder and Lightning swung their heads up and down snorting as horses do to greet a friendly familiar person. You sniffled again whether it was from the cold or your tears was hard to say. You walked up to the two big beasts and gave each a big hug around each of their large muscular necks. Thunder snorted after sniffing your hair, and Lightning just stood and waited. As much as it was comforting to hug the four legged monsters, they never hugged back.

You retrieved the brushes and picks from their spot and went about preparing both horses for a morning ride. Each beast needed their hooves cleaned and you did the job methodically just as you were taught by your dad so many years before. “See pumpkin you’ve got to do each hoof in the same order.” you recalled him telling you, “Horses are skitterish, they spook easily. Routine makes them feel safe, and if they feel safe then you’ll be safe.” He clicked his tongue and tapped on the front leg of a much younger Thunder. As he had so many times before, Thunder lifted his leg and bent his hoof up so your dad could snag it between his legs and pick the dirt out. “You hold his leg like this so he feels secure. It’s more stable.” Thunder took a big breath and snorted. “See, that means he’s content. This feels good for him. Like I’m scratching an itch he can never reach.” You nodded and held the bag of brushes and picks in your small 8 year old hands. “Sometimes you might feel them lean towards you but don’t worry, they’re not going to fall on you they’re just showing they trust you.” He let the hoof go, patting Thunder on the shoulder and saying, “Good boy.” to another grateful snort. Your dad moved around and did each hoof in turn as you looked on. “Your turn now pumpkin.” he said passing you the pick and motioning to Lightning. “Daddy I miss you so much.” you muttered to yourself as you returned to the present, crying as you cleaned off Lightning’s last hoof. “I wish you were here…..I…I don’t know what I’m doing anymore!” You sobbed openly, the barn unresponsive to your cries.

“Hello?” The query came from outside the barn. You quickly dried your eyes as best as you could and made your way to the door. There in the doorway stood your closest neighbor, Mr. Pearson. His gruff demeanor and grisly scraggly beard had always scared you as a child, but your adult eyes now saw him for what he was, a nice old man.

Mr. Pearson had been there for you on multiple occasions after your parents funeral. Your brother and sister had lives to go back to, so the farm was left to you to handle. Without Mr. Pearson’s help those first few months a disaster would have certainly fallen the farm. He had helped you find buyers for the livestock, and homes for the goats and chickens. It was his suggestion that you hold onto the horses to keep a piece of the old farm while you found your way. Mr. Pearson was just as devastated by the loss of your parents as you were. He had known your parents for years and all three had grown up, and grown older together. It’s the kind of tie between people that only time can forge. Mr. Pearson was the man that discovered the accident scene, and had taken it upon himself to let you know what had happened. You don’t know if you could have been as strong as him. Maybe this is just something that happens as you age, but he seemed to know just what to say to soothe your agony.

When your brother and sister flew back home, Mr. Pearson drove you there and returned you home so you could see them off. He popped in every day to check in on you. Sometimes with left overs from Mrs. Pearson’s cooking the prior night. You always accepted the generosity with a smile if only to hide the tears. It was only Mr. and Mrs. Pearson at their farm, and despite having cooked for two for nearly a decade, Mrs. Pearson suddenly forgot how to portion out the food properly. It was their way of taking care of you without you feeling like you were a burden on them.

Without a thought you burst into tears and wrapped your arms around the old man. “There there honey, what’s wrong?” he asked gently as he held you close and patted you on the back like fathers instinctively know how to do.

You looked at him through blurry tear soaked eyes, “I don’t…..I don’t know.” you sniffled and buried your head into his chest as he tightened his grip around you.

“Oh honey, it’s ok.” he cooed, “everything will be ok.” He gripped your shoulders and held you back from him so he could look into your eyes, “Come on little one, let’s go inside. We need to have a chat.” You nodded slowly and followed him out of the barn and up the narrow path through the snow up to the old farmhouse.

After removing your winter gear you motioned Mr. Pearson to join you in the kitchen, putting a pot of coffee on and leaning against the counter.

“Alcina, honey, how old are Thunder and Lightning now?” he asked softly leaning up against the adjacent counter.

You looked up and around the kitchen trying to recall how old they were, and sheepishly you looked back at Mr. Pearson and replied, “Actually……I’m….I’m not sure.”

He nodded and smiled, “Well honey, they’re getting old, at least as horses go. Thunder is about 29 years old, and Lightning is 27.”

“Oh.” you replied, unsure of what to say or where this conversation was leading. In truth you hadn’t realized their age nor had you given it a second thought. Pets always seem to be ageless until the point where it becomes impossible to notice their health slipping away. “I didn’t realize that.”

“Now, Mrs. Pearson and I were talking,” you smiled as he spoke. There was something endearing about couples that referred to their partner as Mr. or Mrs. suchandsuch. It just seemed so down to earth. “and we thought that maybe it would be a good idea if we looked after Thunder and Lightning.” he continued.

You stood for a moment in silence, not sure what to say.

“It’s just that you know Mr. Friesen is always out at our place looking after our stock, and it would be easier for him to check in on Thunder and Lightning then and there.” Mr. Friesen was the area vet and would often make rounds to the larger farms. He and Mr. Pearson were good friends and he always made a point of making the Pearson’s the last stop on the circuit. He would sit and chat for hours, often staying for supper after he had looked after the foals from that season. Mr. Friesen also had eyes for Mrs. Pearson, but was good enough to keep those lusty thoughts to himself.

“I…..I guess that makes sense.” you manage to reply.

“Now they’re still your horses, we’re not taking them from you.” Mr. Pearson clarified, extending his hand out reassuringly as he spoke. “You can come and visit any time, but me and Mrs. Pearson will take care of them like they were our own. We’ll make sure they’re safe and well fed. You have nothing to worry about…”

“Oh I know you will Mr. Pearson.” you interrupted. These Pearson’s had bred horses for nearly three decades, just as his father had before him. Almost all of the horses in the area were Pearson farm horses. If there was anyone that was qualified to look after horses it was Mr. and Mrs. Pearson. You didn’t want him to think you felt otherwise. “I know you will Mr. Pearson,” you repeated, “I….I guess…it’s…just a surprise that’s all.” you said honestly.

He strode across the kitchen and put his large thick calloused hand on your shoulder, “They’ll be in good hands, I promise you that.”

“I know….I know…” you started to blubber and once more collapsed into the old man’s embrace.

“There there honey, don’t cry.” he murmured softly, holding you tight in his arms for the second time.

“It’s just…..oh Mr. Pearson I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.” you sobbed openly and he patted your back gently.

“It’ll be ok honey, you’ll figure it out. I know you will. Mrs. Pearson and I both know you’ve got a great life ahead of you.”

You managed to smile at him through your tears, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek, “You’re such a sweet man, Mrs. Pearson is lucky to have you.”

“Who’d you think I learned this from.” he winked, “Now pour me a cup of that delicious smelling coffee and tell me all about this visitor you had.”

You cocked your head to the side and furrowed your brow at his nonchalant question. How did he know? You wondered.

Answering your inquisitive look he continued, “Mrs. Pearson heard about him from the Penner’s. Their boy had been working on your visitor’s car.”

Of course their “boy” was hardly a boy at all, but the same large odour impaired driver that took me in his tow truck to the service station. You smirked and blushed involuntarily. Turning away from Mr. Pearson you quickly retrieved to coffee cups and filled them averting your gaze from the old man while you regained your composure. “What did you hear?” you finally managed to ask.

“Oh nothing much,” the old man lied. “Just that he had ditched his car….” Mr. Pearson chuckled at his accidental pun, “…literally I guess, and taken refuge at your place while it was being worked on.”

You appreciated his soft handed approach to checking on you. The lack of eventful happenings in small towns had a tendency to cause the residents to titter any time anything out of the ordinary occurred. Gossip was almost as popular a pastime as fishing was. “Oh,” you finally responded having determined to sanitize the last few days for the sake of avoiding future awkwardness. “Yes, well he showed up at my doorstep…” you continued the story over the next half hour or so, leaving out the flirting, the nakedness, and most certainly the soul altering sex you had just last night. Somehow you felt that Mr. Pearson wouldn’t understand, or approve.

“So what did you talk about then?” he asked politely, sipping at his coffee and looking across the table at you with disturbingly perceptive eyes.

“Actually, I think I did most of the talking.” you laughed. Mr. Pearson smiled and nodded as if he expected nothing less. “He saw the picture in the hallway from when I was in Paris, and I guess I ended up talking about that the whole time.”

“You miss it don’t you?” the old man said, putting down his coffee so he could look at you directly.

Furrowing your brow you let out a sigh and slumped your shoulders, “Yah….I guess I do.” sighing once more to punctuate the small statement.

“Well you’re pretty far from Paris here.” he chuckled, gesturing out the kitchen window to the blustery snow and wide open fields beyond. “Do you think you belong here, or there?” he asked, cutting directly to the heart of the matter expertly.

“I……I….” you stammered, and stopped. Biting your lip you looked down at your now empty coffee cup and watched it begin to blur as more tears formed. “I’m not sure…”

Mr. Pearson reached over the table to hold your hand, “Yes you are, you’re just afraid to say it out loud.” He took his hand away and folded his arms like the surrogate father he was, “Look Alcina, if your dad was here I know what he would say. He would tell you that you need to follow what drives you. This farm, this life, this was his dream. Your mom’s dream. It’s not yours and it never was.”

You sobbed quietly and nodded, “It’s just….I feel like…if I leave I’ll lose them forever.”

The old man patted your hand reassuringly, “I know….I know honey, but this is just a house. These are just things. They will fade into dust, but no matter what happens to this house you will always have the memories of your parents and growing up here.” he sighed and looked away for a moment. “Mrs. Pearson and I were never blessed with children, that’s just the way life is, but I know that if you were my daughter, I wouldn’t want to hold you back from the life that you deserve.”

You sobbed again, the tears sliding down your cheeks and your throat ached with the truth of his words. You didn’t belong here. This wasn’t your life. You needed to forge your own path and you couldn’t do it while you held onto the past. You wiped the tears from your cheeks and your eyes and sniffled while looking back up at Mr. Pearson. He looked at you with his fatherly gaze, tears welling up but not yet cascading down his face. He maintained his composure far better than you could. “But what do I do?” you asked him, “I didn’t finish school. I don’t know what I’m going to do to even survive.” you whimpered.

“Mrs. Pearson and I will look after you, at least until you get on your feet.” You shook your head in protest but he simply raised his hand up to stop you, “We insist honey. I saw how happy you were when you came back from Paris and we want to see you that happy again. That’s that.” he waved his hands to the side as an umpire would indicate his statement was “safe”.

Once more you burst into tears, and while crying slid out from your side of the table and onto his, gripping him in a hug that would put any bear to shame. “I love you Mr. Pearson. I love you and Mrs. Pearson so much. If I could do anything for you….ever…..anything at all….I will….I ….you know…”

He interrupted your blubbering by kissing you on the cheek, “Sweety, all we want is to see you smile again. That would make us the happiest.”

“Ok,” you capitulated. “Ok…..I will….” hugging him roughly once more.

For the next few days you prepared for your new journey. Gathering what clothes you needed, and which ones you didn’t you stuffed into a large box for good will. You packed up pictures to take with you and sent the rest to your brother and sister. Mr. and Mrs. Pearson had already taken Thunder and Lightning so now the only thing keeping you at the house was the house itself.

You had long difficult conversations with both your siblings over what to do with the farm. Your brother thought it would be best to sell it and split the proceeds three ways, while your sister argued for holding onto the property incase one of her children wanted to become a farmer, however unlikely that would be. In the end, however, the decision as hard as it was fell to you, the youngest of you three. It was with a heavy heart that you decided to sell the farm, as your brother suggested. You put it on the market and purchased a ticket for Paris the next day. Mr. and Mrs. Pearson were going to look after the sale and contact all three of you when the lawyers were done with all the paperwork. Now with nothing holding you back any more, you flew back to the place where you first found yourself.

All of this was unknown to me as I sped down rough snow laden highways on my way back to the farm.

Truth #23

When did you lose your virginity?

I suppose by what I write and how I act at this point in my life the average reader would likely make the erroneous assumption that I was an early bloomer. Wooing women and wrestling pimples simultaneously. This, as much as I wish it were true, just isn’t the case.

I didn’t have my first girlfriend until I was I college and even though I believed the relationship was fantastic in reality it was merely stupid puppy love. I had no clue how to conduct myself at the time and it’s hard to not look back at my actions with embarrassment. Suffice to say the relationship didn’t last long and certainly did not last long enough to become intimate with her.

A year or two went by and I didn’t fare any better with girls. I was very good at making friends with them but couldn’t seem to take the next step. Now last Monday truth I discussing cheating and how I had been involved in a cheating situation during my first time. I had said it was under the surprisingly exhilarating cloud of cheating but I have to clarify. While the situation was exhilarating, the sex definitely was not.

It was horrid. Despite her being in a long term relationship, and despite her proclamations of her vast skill, she had none. Without a doubt she was the worst kisser I have had the displeasure of experiencing. Though she claimed to be an excellent kisser and how all the men she had been with had told her this, she was utterly awful. Her “technique” if you could even call it that, was to jam her tongue as far as she could into my mouth and then simply swirl it around clockwise over and over and over again. It was horrible. She wasn’t so much kissing me as she was showing me what it would be like to be infested with an alien parasite.

Her skill in bed was equally pathetic. I had anticipated foreplay. I was ready for it. I was jazzed up for it. All the reading, studying, thinking pondering, all that time wishing for some chance to take theory into practice was finally here. Or so I thought. Apparently for her, the kissing was enough. But I was young, stupid and inexperienced, so regardless of me not being in the moment at all, my penis was very much ready to rock.

Now in every movie or TV show I had seen up till that point, they always had made fun of a boy’s first time because it seemed to be over so shockingly quick. I agonized over this. I was so worried that when it came to my chance that I would be one of the infamous ‘minute men’. Once more, however, my fears were assuaged by her. I didn’t have the opportunity to be a ‘minute man’ because she took that role instead. Because of my lack of experience, something she was acutely aware of, she decided that she would take charge. I was on my back, lying down as if a bear was attacking and I was feigning death. About three minutes later, or maybe even less….she was done…and that was that. She collapsed next to me, muttered something about my “cock is amazing…and…that was amazing….” and then cuddled with me in my tiny twin bed for a while before deciding to slip out and go home before her boyfriend got home from work.

“We need to do this again sometime.” was the last thing she said to me that night, before I closed the door behind her. I just fake smiled and nodded then locked the door. When I turned around I saw my roommate who was getting milk in the kitchen. He looked at me and gave me an approving, “duuuuuude” nod and I slinked back to my room.

I had sex with her twice more in the following weeks. One may ask, “Why? Why would you do that if it was so horrible?” It’s because, I didn’t know it was horrible. I had no frame of reference. No understanding of what good sex was like. Sure I had seen porn, sex scenes in movies, I’d read and written erotica by then as well, but I had never experienced it firsthand. After the first time I was actually quite worried. I thought maybe there was something wrong with me. She, after all, was so incredibly excited and I was nowhere close to that. Maybe I was broken? Maybe I’ve got a problem? Maybe……I don’t know? I worried. I fretted and became so obsessed with figuring it out, that when she came onto me again I once more let it happen. It was marginally better the second time, but only marginally. She lasted a full five minutes I believe, but once more she came, and I didn’t. She didn’t appear to notice. She didn’t appear to care. I was beginning to wonder what the hell all the fuss was about. Why were my classmates so obsessed with sex? It wasn’t interesting in the least! It was barely exciting, and hardly felt good at all. After the third time with her I decided to stop being so worried about getting laid, because clearly it wasn’t worth it. The next time I had sex was several years later and was so much better it was only then that I realized that it was her, my first, that was the problem and not me.

She romanticized the moment too, which in retrospect was quite funny. She swooned over the idea that she would be my first. “You never forget your first.” she said on multiple occasions. I’m sure that she thought that all my memories would be of fondness and obsession for the excitement of my first time. In reality, however, she goes down as the worst lay I’ve ever had in my entire life. She is the benchmark for bad sex. She is the mark of the lowest tide. In her mind, I’m sure she still considers herself to be a sultry minx, which is hilarious because for that amount of self delusion you’d be surprised of her current profession. She is……a psychologist.

Anyways, the question was when I lost my virginity not how. So I was 21 at the time. That’s the when. But answering a question with a simple one sentence answer seemed very curt and boring, hence the story. I hope you found my tragic first, second, and third experiences amusing. I think it would be a delightfully cathartic experience if you, my readers, share your own.

Good, bad, or horrible. Share your first time in the comments. Let’s all enjoy our naivety together. 😉

Cheers,

Julian

Next question?

 

Chapter 26 – Lies for the Dead

Chapter 26 – Lies for the Dead

The next morning I awoke to the sound of the telephone. “This is your 8am wakeup call as requested.”

“The fuck?” I muttered into the phone somewhat incoherently. I didn’t recall making such a request and would have much preferred to sleep all the way until minutes before the funeral. “I didn’t request…”

“Tracy from the night shift said you mentioned it to her so she programmed it into the call rotation.” The front desk attendant replied quickly, trying her best to seem soothing and understanding. “She said you had ….ummm…that you had somewhere to be today.”

I sighed and despite my true feelings, thanked her for the call. She immediately bubbled back with an overly enthusiastic “You’re welcome!!” Before hanging up the reviewer and dialing the next room.

I ran my hands up and down my face as if to rub away the sleepiness manually. Swinging my legs off the bed I curled my toes into balls as I tightened my hands into fists. It seemed like every knuckle of every digit cracked and for a brief moment it was sounding like I was cooking popcorn in the room. I rolled my head from side to side, then rounded my back and straightened it again. The day after a long drive is never kind to a body. So much sitting in one unmoving place just isn’t good for anyone. I resolved to stop and take stretch breaks next time on the way back. Squinting my eyes together a sudden urge to yawn captured my attention and I was compelled to vehemently groan as it escaped my mouth. Punctuating the end of my yawn came yet another ring of the phone. “Damn they really want to be thorough here.” I thought to myself as I picked up the receiver. “Yes?” I grunted into the phone.

“Zale?”

“Yes?” I asked with increasing irritation.

“Oh good you’re up. Ok, get dressed and meet me downstairs, I’m gonna take you to breakfast!” came the giggly happy reply from Tracy the night clerk. She must have just pounded back another coffee because she was far too alert for my liking.

“Ummm….” I mumbled, “…why?” I tried to say with as little annoyance in my voice as possible.

“Oh..umm….you….uhhh…you said last night that you…..that you needed to talk some things out….I just…well….I thought…” she was falling over her words like a verbal Buster Keaton.

I paused for a moment, trying to recall the context of the exchange. I recalled what I had said but she extracted the incorrect message, “I meant I had to think things through, talk them out. I have a eulogy to write for a funeral I’m supposed to be at today.”

“Oh……uh…oh….” Tracy stammered, quite obviously disappointed. Apparently she enjoyed the late night conversation far more than I was aware of. It’s difficult when you meet new people. The subtleties and nuances of their inflection, mannerisms, and sarcasm can easily be lost and the message that was sent from one stranger to the other could quite easily be misconstrued. It made me wonder how ancient explorers were able to do it. How they were able to meet new undiscovered people with unknown customs, unknown languages, and somehow manage to make a meaningful dialogue. I suppose you would have to start simple. “This…this is a rock” I imagined one explorer saying, holding a stone in his hand as another individual from another tribe tried to understand and repeated, “raack”. Amazing. I wonder how many accidental breakfasts they were invited to before it was understood that one just wanted to sleep in. “I didn’t….I thought…oh….”

I couldn’t help but interject. The automatic civility imposed internally coming through, “I’d be happy to join you Tracy, I only just woke up though. Can you wait a little longer while I get ready?”

I could almost hear her enthusiastic nodding through the phone, “Sure sure! Ya….whatever!…I’ll be here. I’m in my regular street clothes now though so you may not recognize me.” she laughed uncomfortably and I allowed myself a sympathetic chuckle.

“See you in a bit then.”

“Ya…ya …ok ya…I’ll be here.” and she giggled again.

I hung up the phone and let out a sigh. “Well, no time like the present.” I heard myself say aloud. Then cringe in revulsion realizing who used that expression and where I patterned it from. I slipped into the shower, which as normal hotel showers are, had far too little water pressure. The hot water, however, was admirably scalding. After a short shower and a shave I was already feeling like a new man. Once I was done my hair and was dressed the sleep that was begging me to stay in bed for the rest of the morning had dissipated to a hushed murmur. I strode down the hall with a purposeful gate and chuckled at the numerous “Do Not Disturb” signs hanging on each door. This hotel had a small complimentary breakfast and from the looks of it, there would be very few that took advantage of it. I took the stairs down to the lobby instead of the elevator, convincing myself that it was the healthier more active option. Realistically though, going down stairs is just allowing gravity to perform its function, albeit under some control. I recalled a professor from university telling us, “Humans don’t walk. They fall and catch themselves with the other foot.” I understood what he was trying to say, but all the same, if I was falling down the stairs instead of walking down them, there would be a considerable difference to the toll it took on my body.

I reached the lobby eventually and noted Tracy sitting in a corner her eyes fixed to her phone. Her bright bottle bought blond hair was easily recognizable. She must have heard my approaching steps because she lowered the phone and turned to see me walking towards her. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and stood. “Street clothes indeed.” I thought to myself as she adjusted the tight shirt that was straining against her impressive breasts. The skirt she had been wearing before was replaced by a pair of equally tight yoga pants and I had to take a moment to myself to regain my composure. Fixing a mask of indifference to my face I smiled at her nonchalantly then cursed myself as I accidently winked. She smiled back and raised her eyebrows looking at me from head to toe and back again, “Well now, don’t you clean up nicely.” she scoffed, “Kay, let’s roll I’m so fucking hungry!” she blurted.

We walked to my car side by side and from outward appearances people may have got the wrong impression about our status. Out of habit I opened the door for her, waited for her to find her seat then gently closed the door before walking around the car and entering it myself. These little gestures so often overlooked were ingrained into my brain. “Son when you’re with a woman you always open the door for them.” I heard my dad’s voice in my mind. “Doesn’t matter if it’s your mom, your grandma, your aunt or your girlfriend, you open the door for her.”

“Why?” I remember asking the curiosity abounding in my young developing brain.

“It’s just what you’re supposed to do…they may tell you otherwise. They might say that they can do it themselves with all this feminist mumbo jumbo but in truth they love it.” I remember him smiling and nodding to himself, wrapped up in old memories. “And always make her walk on the inside of the curb.”

“The inside of the curb?” I ask not entirely sure what my dad was talking about.

“Yes, so if there’s a puddle you can shield her from getting soaked by passing cars.” He turned to me and smiled, “We don’t wear armor anymore son, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be knights.”

It was the knights comment that etched these teachings into my mind. I was a kid and completely enthralled with knights, sword fighting, and rescuing maidens from dragons. I didn’t have much interest in the maiden or what we would do after I rescued her, but bring a knight was definitely what I wanted to do when I grew up.

“Where are we heading then?” I asked Tracy as she looked around the cabin of my car inspecting it for visible damage.

“Huh? Oh…ya….like there’s this little place over a little ways that way. The rest of the menu is shit but they have the best waffles you’ve ever eaten!” She closed her eyes and arched her back with the last words making them seem far more sexual than intended. Then immediately she straightened up, turned to me and asked “I thought you’d been in an accident? Why’s there no damage? Did you like….have to get all this fixed or is this some sort of replacement car thingy?”

I turned the key and the engine came to life. The radio blared loudly and I swiftly reached out to off some overly enthusiastic DJ that clearly had more caffeine in his system than I did. “The accident was quite tame,” I responded pulling the car out of its spot, “I landed in a snow filled ditch. It was the walking through the snow that nearly killed me.”

Tracy nodded thoughtfully. “Are you going to call her?” She blurted suddenly turning her head to me and whipping her hair in the process.

I stopped for a moment to let another vehicle pass. Not really sure what to say yet.

“The hot girl that saved your dumb ass.” She clarified, as if I wasn’t sure who she was asking about. She smirked at me and raised her eyebrow questioningly.

“I dunno.” I responded without thinking. I turned to her and shrugged, punctuating my indecision with the gesture.

“Are you going to drive back the same way?” Tracy continued. She seemed more interested in this than I would have expected. She looked straight ahead now, playing with her phone in her hand, turning it over and over before looking at me again waiting for my response.

“Dunno” I muttered. The answer disappointed her as much as it disappointed myself. This should be something you’re sure of. I should know this. I should know what I want. But yet even a year and a bit into my divorce I still felt the fears of being let down. What you and I had in that brief moment in the farmhouse was beautiful. The interaction, the conversation, the give and take. It felt like home should feel. It felt like I belonged. But it was such a unique situation. Was it merely a flash in the pan or could there be something more? Was I even ready? Would I ever know when I was? I drove in silence for the next few blocks before I saw out of the corner of my eye Tracy preparing for another question.

She tucked her long hair behind her ear and glanced over at me again, “Don’t you like her?” she asked quietly. I was beginning to feel like Tracy was asking for herself more than for you. Maybe she identified with you in some way I couldn’t quite see just yet.

“Yes.” I admitted, both to her as well as to myself, though I supposed that this answer was the most obvious one. There was a fascination with you that I had within me. As you told me of your experiences in Paris I felt as if I was there with you. Imperceptibly the tender tendrils of my existence were weaving themselves into yours. I did like you, very much. Perhaps that’s what was making me hesitate. Falling. It can be so terrifying or it can be exhilarating, depending on who packed your parachute.

“So…why not then?” Tracy asked, unsnapping her seatbelt and opening the door. I stepped out and met her on the other side.

As we walked towards the restaurant I muttered, “I dunno.” I repeated yet again, “I’m not sure if I’m ready.” I stopped and pulled the door open for her and let her walk ahead of me. I couldn’t help but give her another look over as she passed in front of me. She was a good looking girl, that much was certain, perhaps deeper than her vapid exterior had originally made me believe.

She turned to me and smiled, “You’re ready Zale. You know you are. That’s why you’re scared.” before turning back to the hostess, “Two please, for a booth.” The hostess nodded and looked over the table plan before jotting it down and picking up a couple of menus.

“This way please.” she said and Tracy and I followed in kind.

“You say you’re not sure. You say that you don’t know. That you’re not ready, but you know you’re ready. You know you’re sure and that’s what you’re afraid of.” she said to me after we were seated.

I furrowed my brow and scowled. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was being fearful. Afraid of what could be happening to me. Afraid of another potential failure. “Don’t let the fear of failure hold you back from success.” I murmured.

“Huh?” Tracy reacted, not sure what I had said.

“Something my grandfather used to say.” I clarified, “Don’t let the fear of failure hold you back from success.”

“Ooooooh I like that!” she said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “That should be like…on a poster or something.” Tracy giggled and looked back at the menu. “Sounds like your grandfather was a smart man.”

“He was.” I replied. Of course I was leaving out the part where he said this just before swinging a belt down at me. I pulled out a pen and a pad of paper I had snagged from the hotel room, jotting down the saying briefly.

“What’s that?”

“My grandfather’s eulogy.” I replied sullenly.

Mistaking my annoyance for grief she cocked her head to the side and with a pouty face said, “Ohhhhh I’m so sorry for your loss.”

I looked back at Tracy and willed myself into an emotional state. Nodding briefly as I attempted to act upset at the loss. “I have to write eulogy for him, and I haven’t been able to figure out what to say.” I admitted.

“It’ll come to you.” she said reassuringly, reaching across the table to grasp my forearm. “Just think of all the good things he did and it’ll come to you. I’m sure.” she repeated.

I nodded, and then looked at my menu finding the waffles and picking out which fruit I wanted mine to be smothered in. The rest of the breakfast was fairly pleasant. Tracy told me about her university plans, how she wanted to run her own business someday, how her boyfriend and her were on a break and she was ok with that before going on to complain about some girl she was sure he was cheating on her with. I reminded her that she was on a break, and that it’s not really cheating if you’re on a break. She smiled and gave me a look that suggested she was going to do something regrettable in retaliation for the apparent slight she had felt.

After breakfast I paid the bill and drove her home. She offered her condolences again and wished me luck with the eulogy. “I guess I’ll see you tonight at work?” she asked me as she was about to step out of the car.

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Good then.” she smiled again, “If you need to talk or whatever just give me a ring. There’ll be two of us on front desk tonight.”

“Sounds good Tracy, thanks for the company.” without thinking I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She smirked and blushed before stepping out of the car and walking up the walkway to her condo. As she reached the door she turned and waved before smiling widely and going inside.

I drove in silence back to the hotel to change into my suit for the funeral. After getting directions from the day shift front desk woman, I was back in my car and on the way to the church.

It truly was horrible. I felt like a stranger among family. I didn’t belong with these people. They were no more my kin than a rock would be. No one called me Zale. They only knew me as my birth name. The questions about my wife came. Whether or not she was pregnant yet. How I must have messed up the marriage because she was so perfect. People really should have a filter on their brain sometimes. I detested every moment. I couldn’t stand the people, the place, and definitely not the individual whose life we were supposed to be celebrating.

Eventually the time came where I was to speak. I said what everyone wanted to hear. What anyone would say when asked to speak at a funeral. The dead man in the wooden box is always wonderful. We find it easier to believe this than the truth. If I was to say how this man wronged me, how he hurt me, and how much I utterly despised him, it would be the truth but no one would listen. No the dead are immune to criticism at a funeral. They’re untouchable. So I say my words, the lies like stinging nettles in my mouth. I soldier on and spew forth a tall tale about his wondrous character. I would have killed him myself if I had the strength. But in the end, emphysema did it for me, and I could think of no better long suffering torturous hell then that which he suffered by his own cigarette stained hand.

“That was a great eulogy.” the pastor said as he came up to me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “I can tell it came from the heart.” he said with the utmost confidence.

“You would think that a man of the cloth would be able to spot bullshit from a mile away.” I thought to myself as I nodded and feigned grief one last time.

His coffin was eased into the ground slowly. The small electric motors lowering it whirring as onlookers sniffled and pulled loved one’s closer. I vowed once more to never end up like him. I would never be such a callous cold closed off man. I would never belittle the people I loved. I would never hold them back from enjoying their life. As much as I hated him, the one thing he definitely taught me, is how not to act. I thought about you once more as I stood over his final resting place.

“Don’t let the fear of failure hold you back from success.” I muttered to myself again.