WARNING: This novel has sexually explicit content.
She appeared out of nowhere. Arrived at Nowhere; forty-some dwellings, some squalid, some abandoned, with a weathered general store and factotum. Her old Nissan trailed a plume of blue smoke through the pristine mountain valley as it spurned its meagre allowance of oil and ground itself towards a terminal arrest. She braked to a stop in front of the store: ‘Groceries, Liquor, Tours’ and turned off the ignition. A groan of relief came as the vehicle sank upon its worn suspension, squatting like an old dog that did not have the reserves to circle first. The driver door had its turn, a metal-on-metal protest as she pushed its dented panel outward. Stepping from the car, she breathed deeply, inhaling the pure mountain air, which until then, had only come to her through its whistling passage past her window.
She awoke at three in the morning. Vittorio was thrusting his fingers in her, urgent, demanding, unromantic, just as it used to be. He was sitting on the bed beside her. No, he was not. It was a dream. She sat up, sweating but relieved that it had only been a dream.
Stepping out of bed, she walked naked down to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. Darn!… The bastard has aroused me! She felt her nipples harden and a deep urge inside. But was it a genuine desire, or a trained response? Trained response! Yes! How could any woman truly accept the invasive and uncaring lust of a man without the tender foreplay?… Arrogant bastard!
She went into the bathroom and peed. Standing, she turned to the mirror on the wall. Careworn. That’s how I look. Almost two weeks on the road without skin care and her face was a wreck. She fingered the skin beneath her eyes. New wrinkles. Wrinkles so deep the top of her head could slide down into them and disappear forever. Her straight nose sported blackheads and the lips of her generous mouth were cracked and dry. Her hazel eyes were still bright, which was something, at least. And the hair! Lank, un-groomed, neglected. Crap!… For sure, Nowhere did not sport a hair salon.
On impulse, she opened the front door. It was pitch black outside. There was nobody to see her, so she stepped out, and gasped. Never had she seen such an array of stars. They were so bright and clear here she thought she could reach out and touch them. As if on cue, a greenish light shimmered across the sky. It was like a wavy valence curtain as it danced and played before her. It intensified and then faded so rapidly she thought she had imagined it. Northern Lights! So they were real after all!
“A hot spring?”
“How hot is it?”
“Usually around a hundred and five but it varies slightly.”
Polly stepped down and swept her hand through the water. She thought it felt really hot and wondered how water could rise quite so high to create this astonishing place.
“Want to go in?”
So, that’s the agenda!… No swimsuits, so nude bathing! “We don’t have swimsuits.”
“Well, you can wear your undergarments if you wish. Lay your jeans out on the rock to dry.” He began to strip his clothes off, obviously intending to go in naked. At the last, he lowered his shorts with his back to her and walked into the water.
Crap!… What a beautiful tight ass!
Oh, God!… He’s going to touch me on the forearm and make some witticism. No way! She threw a faint nervous smile at him. He returned it. Bastard!… He isn’t going to do it. I should fuck his brains out and then, in his post-coital nap, strangle him!
Oh, Sweet Jesus!… He did it!
Now, it was his turn to descend the stairway of her body for the feast below. His tongue slid into her navel, one hand gently stroking and coaxing her left thigh to part company with her right. This was allure, seduction, not abduction! No brutal wrenching and force. Paul had been gentle but urgent. This was different. It was as if a long-awaited mutual mental meeting was taking place. The itinerary was plain. The music was familiar, but the dance steps were different and the gentleman requesting was perfect. Her dance card was full.
She reached for him, pulling him toward her so she could re-engage with his hardness. She had never done this before. What a wonderful pleasure! What a tender act of giving! She rejoiced in the sensation of pleasing him while he pleasured her. He was incredibly hard, demanding yet offering, not forceful. For a time, they stayed that way, stoking the smouldering embers of passion until they burst into flame and they scrambled until she was supine beneath him, his hips between her thighs.
Tenderly, fingers spread her open, exposing the pink folds of her like the delicate petals of some exotic flower. And then the tongue, that blessed device, slowly touched its tip to her secret button, sending her whirling into a state she had only recently experienced, yet seeming like the first time all over again. Her mouth yawned open with the sensation, and she plunged it down on him as if they were engaged in some sensation-giving contest.
Isaac moaned, gasped. Polly pulled him in tighter, locking her legs around him, fingers dug in the tautness of his buttocks, plunging against him in the mad rush to finality. Her hips began to quiver and shake, her breath coarsened into long gasps as she was overwhelmed. They climaxed simultaneously, shaking, grunting and moaning as they plunged over the edge, launched into the star constellations they had viewed earlier, travelling so fast it all blurred into a single burst of light they could not comprehend. A supernova.
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