Rocky Mountain Way

Discussion in 'Erotic Fiction Story Forum' started by Mojavejoe420, Jan 7, 2019.

  1. Mojavejoe420

    Mojavejoe420 New Member

    Rocky Mountain Way
    by Mojavejoe420


    A chance meeting of two lonely strangers in the mountains of Colorado.

    [​IMG]



    The wind caught Cheryl’s map as she tried to orient herself to the little town. She knew that almost everyone had cell phones with navigation on them, but she still had an old non-smart flip phone; the kind where you had to push the numbers several times to just get one letter when texting. Needless to say, she didn’t text much either.

    She had pretty much pinpointed her sister’s cabin on the map; her final destination. She had been here years earlier but didn’t remember all the turns. But she was very happy to almost be there. She could rest, relax, do some thinking and some non-thinking, too. She looked forward to the solitude. Except for trips to the store, she would be all alone for six wonderful months.

    “Where you headed, young lady?”

    She turned and saw Fred, the elderly gentlemen wearing the garb of the local supermarket in Granby, Colorado. She had just finished stuffing her Jeep with all her groceries and he collected her cart along with a couple others.

    “Just up the road a bit, I think.” She gave him a nice smile.

    “Better get a move-on. That storm is coming in and they aren’t kidding around this time. We’re closing up now.”

    She promised she would. Cheryl knew all about storms. Her and her husband… err… ex-husband, she reminded herself, lived in New York City and traveled a lot throughout Vermont and Maine during the winters back there. Her Jeep had kept them out of lots of trouble while others sat stranded in their cars.

    She started to cross the street to the hardware store for some batteries and a good lantern, when a car honked at her as it sped past her. True, she wasn’t paying attention as she was about to cross the street, but that guy was doing well past the speed limit.

    Idiot, she thought. These are mountain roads and it’s below freezing.


    - - -


    The state trooper approached his car window.

    “Sir, you’ve gotta turn around just like everybody else. This storm is coming in fast. Are you a resident here? I didn’t think so. You’ve got no business being out here in a rental car without all-weather tires and chains. Now turn around and don’t be stupid.”

    Sighing heavily, John got back in line and followed the other cars as they did a u-turn on I-70 and headed back towards Denver.

    I just came from Denver, he fumed. I don’t want to go back, I just want to go… I want to keep driving… keep moving.

    Actually, he had just come from Boulder but passed through Denver on his way home to LA. His uncle’s funeral had left a bad taste in his mouth and he just wanted to get out of Colorado. Susan, his wife, didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just fly home and not worry about all the weather. John tried to explain that he needed some alone time to think, to process his uncle’s death. She acquiesced and wished him a safe trip.

    It’s just another lie, he told himself. Add that to the hundred times a day I lie to her. I didn’t used to be a liar…

    What he really needed was time to think. He needed to figure out his exit strategy. He just felt like he was done with Susan. It would be ugly and painful, though. He kept trying to think about how to make it the least painful for everyone.

    He saw a sign for Highway 40 and pulled off the exit ramp. He checked his map program and saw it ran north and finally connected to Salt Lake City. The storm was coming up from the south, and he reasoned it wouldn’t get that far north in the next few hours. After talking to Siri, she deigned to play his "Super 70's" playlist; Joe Walsh came up first. He smiled, gunned the motor and headed up the 40.

    His rental Ford Fusion wasn’t a sports car by any means, but it did have paddle shifters and the motor had a few more horses under the hood than his Fusion back home. He braked hard into the next turn, hit the apex, and smoothly accelerated into the next one. The sheer joy and exhilaration of taking the road hard thrilled him to his marrow.

    The excitement wore off after about an hour, however. He found the stress tiring, and that power slide on the last hairpin gave him quite a scare. He backed it down to just about the speed limit and enjoyed the ride.

    Time passed and as the skies grew darker, John noticed the outside temp had dropped to well below freezing. He began pondering his next move, this once gorgeous country road suddenly seemed desolate, foreboding, and even threatening. Maybe he should head back the twenty or thirty minutes to Granby; snow was starting to fall and it might get dicey up here. He was pretty sure he saw a motel or an inn of some sort back there. He didn’t have any cell service up here in the big lonely mountains, there was no way to tell what accommodations lie ahead.

    He headed into the next turn a little quick, but no big deal. Until he hit that patch of black ice in the middle of the turn. Many of the turns had water on them, a little runoff from the day’s snow melting. But this patch had frozen, and John’s car lost its grip for a moment.

    As he felt the car go straight when it should be turning, he turned left harder. The car slid through the ice and then caught traction on the pavement again. John struggled with the wheel, trying to correct the sudden overcorrection. He finally straightened out the Ford, but he now pointed almost perpendicular to his intended path of travel.

    BAM!

    The exploding airbag surprised him when he hit the tree, even as it saved his head from hitting the wheel. The sudden quiet seemed shocking, compared to the violence of just a moment ago. Or maybe it was just in his head, as he began to hear the car creaking, hissing steam, and some fluid dripping on the ground.

    Gasoline!

    He scrambled to extricate himself from the mangled pile of metal. He stumbled a few feet from the car and stopped, and sniffed. Satisfied that it was just the ruptured radiator dripping coolant and not a gasoline leak, he returned to the broken car.

    If I had my car I would have my earthquake kit in the back, with that warm sweater, extra socks, matches, flashlight, emergency rations…

    He opened the trunk and only found his small overnight bag, no supplies of any kind. Shivering, he took off his clothes down to his underwear so he could put on another layer of boxers and two more T-shirts. He figured every little bit would help. He put on both his dress shirts and struggled to fit his suit pants over his jeans.

    Fuck it’s getting cold! And the car won’t run, and even if it did it wouldn’t last long without any coolant. Fuck! Do I stay with the car or try and walk? What do I do?

    He decided to stick with the car since the flurries had now turned to big, sticking snowflakes that covered the ground quickly. He dug into the trunk for the tire iron, hoping it had a sharp end on it so maybe he could cut open a seat for some foam. Maybe he could use it for warmth, or maybe even get the battery to spark and make a fire! That’s it!

    As he found the tire iron without any sharp edges, he hung his head in disgust. He began looking for some broken glass shards of decent size when he heard a new sound; a car!

    He appreciated the black four-door Jeep Wrangler as it carefully approached the curve. With it lifted a few inches and big thirty-seven inch mud/terrain tires tucked underneath, he knew it could tackle most anything out here.

    He gave a wave as it slowed to a stop in the road behind his busted up Ford. John walked to the drivers side and looked surprised when he found it to be a woman driver. And a rather attractive one at that.

    “Howdy,” he called as she lowered the window. “Thanks for stopping.”

    “Whatcha doin’ out here? You know, a lot of people slow down for curves,” she said with a big smile.

    “Oh, you know, thought I would try a little off-roading.”

    She looked at his crumpled car, steam rising from the engine compartment. Then she noticed his unusual clothing arrangement.

    “Yeah, I can see that. So what’s your plan now? Are you wearing all the clothes you have?”

    “Yeah, it’s getting a bit nippy out. I was going to cut up the seats and maybe start a fire. Got any matches?”

    He smiled his best smile at her.

    “Nope. Guess you’re outta luck…”

    “Ah, well, shoot! That’s okay, then. I’m sure I’ll be fine. Oh hey, maybe you could let my kids know that I was thinking of them before I died. I could give you my home number...”

    “I could do that. Or maybe an email would be better…”

    He looked rather ridiculous with all these clothes layered under his now ill-fitting dress suit. He dipped his head, trying to give her his best puppy dog eyes.

    She cocked her head and smiled again at him.

    “Are you gonna get in the truck or what?”

    John scrambled to retrieve his bag from his rental and climbed up onto the front seat.

    “Thank you. I’m John, John Winters.” He stuck his hand out.

    With a little laugh, she said, “Cheryl, Cheryl Summers.”

    “You’re kidding me, really?”

    “Honest to God,” she promised as she set the Jeep in motion. “Are you the dead comedian? Or Edgar Winters’ brother?”

    “Ah, cute. I’m old but not that old. Ummm… where are we going? I know there’s a hotel back there in Granby, or…”

    “Granby? I’m not driving you to Granby! I just came from there. Did you not notice the snow falling out of the sky? Where are you from, anyway?”

    “California, City of the Angels.”

    “Oh,” she sneered. “Cali-for-nia. Well that does explain a lot. See, this is what we call heavy snow. The kind where you get a foot an hour. If I drove you to Granby then I’d be stuck there for the next several days.”

    She expertly took the next curve, the Jeep’s tires and four-wheel drive gripping the road quite nicely.

    “Didn’t you listen to the weather reports? If you hadn’t crashed, you would just be stuck in the snow in another twenty minutes.”

    Properly chastened, he sat back in his seat, thankful for the heat coming up from the vents.

    “Well I do thank you for picking me up, wherever we’re going. I would probably die out here.”

    “That’s true. And you’re welcome.” She smiled at him and slapped his knee. “Cheer up! I’m just giving you a hard time! Say, you want some coffee?”

    “You have coffee? Here in the car?”

    “First of all, yes I have coffee. But more importantly, you never call a Jeep a “car.” Every time you do--”

    “I know, I know! Every time you call a Jeep a “car” a kitten dies somewhere. I have one, too.”

    She eyed him suspiciously. “Suspension?”

    “Teraflex, four inches. And thirty-seven inch Toyo MTs underneath.

    “Gears?”

    “4.88.”

    “Why not 5.13?”

    “I drive the freeway too much, better gas mileage.”

    “Hmph,” she muttered, apparently satisfied. “There’s a hydroflask in the back seat.”

    He popped the top back and sipped the piping hot brew. He felt the heat spread throughout his chest from his esophagus.

    “Mmm that’s good. So then, where are we going, if I may ask?”

    “Well, you seem a half-decent person. I guess I’m going to have to put you up at my cabin. There’s several bedrooms, you can take your pick.”

    “I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

    She slowed down and pulled off on an unmarked trail. John felt the dirt road through the vibrations in the floorboards.

    “I know you won’t. I have already taken a picture of your license plate and sent it to my sister. If anything happens to me, they’ll track you down.”

    She smiled at him.

    “Hey watch the road, okay!”

    She corrected her path and continued down the twisty road, the tires making a definite crunching sound on the new snow. They compared notes on other Jeep accoutrements and noted how fast the snow fell. In about fifteen minutes they came to a driveway and pulled in.

    John’s jaw dropped.

    “Uh… cabin? Looks more like a ski lodge!”

    “It’s my sister’s. I’m just here for… a while, I guess.”

    Cheryl pulled into the garage on the lower floor of the so-called cabin. She grabbed several bags of groceries while John brought in his travel case, with more groceries piled on top. He gave a low whistle as they walked through the finished basement area.

    “Yes, we have a pool table, ping pong, shuffleboard, a bar… And that's the larder. My brother-in-law believes in being prepared. A family of four could eat for a year without ever needing a store run. Maybe two years, even.”

    They went upstairs to the spacious main floor. John admired the simple, rustic design that also conveyed a sense of elegance, and good planning. The expansive south-facing windows would absorb the sun’s heat during the winter, and the solar panels and pipes showed him these people were serious about their survival up here in the wilderness.

    They made a couple more trips to bring in her luggage and the last of the groceries. They put most of the food away, but John was getting a little antsy about his situation.

    “Can I borrow your phone? I don’t have any service up here. I should call the rental car company, and then just a few minutes to California.”

    Cheryl pointed to a landline and he spoke to the rental car company. They told him that given the weather conditions, it would be two, maybe even three days before a tow truck could be dispatched to the wreck site. Then, he dialed his wife’s cell.

    “Hey it’s me… Listen I’m kind of stranded, this storm came in faster than I expected… uh huh… I know… yeah I shoulda just flown… yeah, a day or two maybe… I know… I will… yep… uh huh… uh huh… yep… okay you too. Bye.”

    Cheryl finished putting away the supplies she had brought in.

    “Was that your brother? A neighbor?”

    “No, that was my wife.”

    “Ah, gotcha.”

    John gave her a little suspicious glance.

    “Whaddya mean ‘gotcha’?”

    Cheryl grabbed a towel and started wiping down the kitchen counter.

    “Nothing, I’m sorry. I was snooping and I shouldn’t have. Ummm… go grab a room, settle in. Mine’s the big one, of course, but feel free to take any of the others.”

    John took the room next to the master bedroom. The others were large and had bunk beds in addition to sofas, and they just seemed made for kids or families. It only took him a couple minutes to move-in and put on something that made more sense, rather than everything he had. Still, his feet were cold and his socks were damp. He freshened up in the bathroom across the hall, also decorated in the same rustic but functional style.

    He almost ran over Cheryl in the hallway as he exited the bathroom.

    “Oh! Sorry, John. I thought you might like these, in case your clothes are wet from the snow. They are my brother-in-law’s. There’s quite a few sets of men’s clothes here.”

    She handed him some nice quality L.L. Bean cargo pants, a Merino-wool shirt and an obnoxious but very warm-looking sweater. Their hands touched as she handed him the pile of clothing. Neither pulled away awkwardly at the sudden contact. It was just fingers touching.

    “Thirty four?” She asked sweetly, referring to his waist size.

    “I beg your pardon!” he joked. “Thirty two, if you please! But these will be fine. Oh, and socks and slippers too! This is perfect, thank you so much.”

    He entered the kitchen a couple minutes later wearing his new gear, and did a little twirl for Cheryl to show off his new fashions. She looked up from her cutting board and peered over her reading glasses at him.

    “Well don’t you just look like a native now!”

    “What are these, reindeer? On my sweater?”

    “Moose.”

    “Are there mooses in Colorado? Meeses?”

    “Don’t be so picky, mister. How are you in the kitchen?”

    He jumped right in and made the salad as she sautéed the chicken. They talked about a lot of things through the excellent dinner. She found out a little about his wife and a lot about his two college-aged children, and also the wacky funeral he was returning from. Uncle Jim had quite an estate to divvy up, and the squabbling of the other uncles and aunts had already started..

    “Tell me more about your wife,” Cheryl said as they sat on a nice big couch in front of the wood burning stove. “I noticed you didn’t tell her exactly where you were staying.”

    “No. I think turnabout is fair play. We’ve talked about me all night. I’ve let you question me, but now I want to hear your story.”

    She took a drink of her wine they’d just opened, their second bottle.

    “Oh, there’s not much to tell…”

    She let that linger.

    “Bullshit,” he said with a wry smile. “A gorgeous woman like you, oh don't give me that look. You know you’re gorgeous. You don’t even wear makeup and you’re stunning. So a gorgeous woman like you is… apparently unmarried? Apparently childless? And you’re hiding out here on the edge of the world. I think there’s a lot of story here.”

    She smiled at him, and took another sip of her wine.

    Where to start? How do I tell him this? I don’t want to tell him this, I just don’t want to. Shit, I’ve had too much wine. He’s just so damn easy on the eyes, and easy to talk to, and interesting, and not a dick, and… and… married. Okay I won’t tell him anything.

    “About two years ago,” she began, despite what she just told herself. “I took on this new patient… and she… and she…”

    She turned her head to try and hide the tears. John moved over close to her and took her wine glass from her hand, and set it down on the coffee table.


    “Hey hey,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “Shhhhh. It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.”

    He took her hands in his. Her tears rolled down her cheeks like huge marbles, splashing on her arms and pant leg.

    I can’t tell him this. I want to tell him. Why do I want to tell him? Oh god Chloe, I’m so sorry… so sorry that I failed you...

    She had cried many times over Chloe, but had always managed to stop herself before she got too deep. But she felt herself losing all control tonight.

    When John took her in his arms, she clung tightly to him and let it all go. The pain, the rage, the anger at herself and Chloe, and the deep, seemingly endless sorrow all combined at once to overwhelm her.

    He pulled her tight so she could rest on his chest while he reclined on the couch. Deep sobs wracked her body as he stroked her hair and rubbed her back. The anguish she felt poured from her in loud wails and more than once she balled up her hand into a fist and lightly pounded his chest.

    She’s lost someone, he mused. Someone who was very close to her.

    After twenty or so minutes she nearly cried herself out. Her breathing slowed and the river of tears reduced to a bare trickle. John handed her a couple napkins from the table to wipe her face and she blew her nose. Then she resumed her position on his chest, and his arms naturally fell around her again.

    “You gonna be okay, gorgeous?”

    She looked at him for a first time in quite awhile.

    “Shut up,” she whispered and nestled her head back against his shoulder and chest. “I’m a mess… and you probably think I’m crazy.”

    “I think you’re traumatized, that’s all. You don’t have to talk anymore tonight. Just rest… shhh”

    His fingers feel so good in my hair. Nobody’s done this in such a long time. Or rather, I haven’t let anyone do this.

    “Thank you,” she whispered. Impulsively, she turned her head and kissed him on the lips. She meant to just give him a quick ‘thank-you’ kiss. But her lips lingered on his.

    Surprised, he kissed her back; their lips tenderly working together. After a few seconds, he brought his hand up to lightly touch her cheek.

    What is happening, he wondered. Stop it, stop this before you go too far. You’re a married man. Well, sort of.

    But he kept kissing her. It had been so long since he had been intimate with someone, it just felt so good… and… he liked her.

    Cheryl’s brain, mostly lost in the kiss, still had a few cells functioning. And they screamed at her to stop. Just as she was about to bite his lower lip, she instead retreated slowly back to his shoulder. John continued to stroke her hair, whispering the occasional “it’s okay now” to her.

    She drifted off to sleep.

    After an hour passed and he was convinced she was deeply sleeping, John tried to slip out from under her.

    “Mmm… don’t go,” she moaned softly.

    “Bathroom. Be right back.”

    Once he was finished using the toilet, he found a bottle of Advil in the medicine cabinet. He grabbed a large tumbler from the kitchen and drank some water for himself, then refilled it. He set the pain reliever and water on the coffee table, then placed a couple more logs into the wood stove. After a brief search, he found the linen closet and retrieved a couple large blankets.

    He draped them over her, then tapped her shoulder. She slid to the side so he could resume his earlier position, partially underneath her.

    They both fell asleep within a few minutes, in each other’s arms.


    - - - - -


    She stirred first in the morning light, finding herself still in his arms. She looked around and saw the water and Advil.

    This guy is a good husband!

    She looked over at the digital clock in the kitchen, but the big red LEDs didn’t shine. That’s when she noticed the chill in the air, and realized the heat hadn’t kicked on because the power was out.

    Still, she needed something for her headache so she sat up and took two pills. John stirred as the cool air hit him and the pill bottle rattled.


    “Hey there,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

    “Morning,” she said, unsure of what else to say. Last night hadn’t quite gone as planned, not that she had a plan, and she was entirely unsure of how she felt or what to do about it. She decided to stick to the basics.

    “The Power is out.”

    “Huh.”

    John sat up and stretched. Then he got up and looked into the wood stove.

    “There’s some coals still going in here. I’ll get some kindling and get it going again. Have you got a kettle?”

    She nodded and went to the bathroom first, then to the kitchen to rustle up the old percolator. Usually she just used the Keurig, but of course that wouldn’t work now.

    John used the fire poker to stoke up the dying coals until it could sustain a couple large pieces of wood. He sensed Cheryl’s general unease and didn’t push anything with her. Finally satisfied with the burgeoning fire, he ambled into the kitchen.

    “That’s a lot of damn snow out there,” he ventured.

    “It’s about four feet, from the looks of it.“

    He turned to smile at her, but she still struggled with opening a big can of Folgers coffee.

    “Hey, let me get that.”

    She set down the manual can opener and let him open the can. She hadn’t really made eye contact with him yet, and she didn’t want to start now.

    Four feet of goddamned snow. Four feet! John will be here for days! Why did I bring him here? What was I thinking?

    They both stood there in an uncomfortable silence for about ten seconds. Finally, neither could bear the tension.

    “Listen John-“

    “Cheryl I need-“

    They both paused and laughed at their awkwardness.

    “You’re the guest, you go first.”

    “Okay… I don’t think I’m going anywhere today, or maybe even tomorrow… right?”

    She shook her head.

    “The Jeep can’t get through this.”

    “So… how about we just chalk up last night to a little too much wine, maybe too many nerves, and just move forward. Whaddya say?”

    “That sounds good to me, John. Although…”

    “Yes?”

    “Well, I haven’t slept that good in about six months, isn’t that crazy!”

    “Well you seemed to have relieved a lot of stress, sure enough! So, what’ve we got in the fridge?”

    They set about making a “hobo scramble”, his specialty. Pretty much anything that ever went into a breakfast meal was thrown in. Ham, bacon, sausage, peppers, onions, mushrooms, potatoes, olives, tomatoes, all chopped and sautéed. Then he dumped six whisked eggs on top of the mess and seasoned it with paprika, garlic powder, salt and pepper. He cooked that up until the eggs set, then topped it off with his favorite hot sauce, Tapatio.

    When it finished cooking, they ate it right out of the cast iron pan.

    “I don’t think I’ll eat again until maybe Thanksgiving!” she joked.

    “How’s the headache?” he asked.

    “It’s ummm… it’s gone.”

    “You should rescue strange men more often.”

    She smiled.

    “Maybe once is all I need.”


    - - - - -


    They spent the entire morning tidying up the house, inside and out. He shoveled the walkway to get to the utility shed, and set the solar panels to “charge” the battery banks; it had been on “standby” for some reason. Then, he cleared the roof of snow so the solar panels could actually try and capture some of the feeble rays poking through the heavy, gray clouds.

    I like it here, he thought as he split another piece of wood. I could live like this. But not by myself. If I had someone like Cheryl, though. Okay maybe if I had Cheryl. She’s amazing. My wife would be panicking right about now, bitching and moaning and panicking. Cheryl just buckled down and helped me with everything and didn’t bat an eye. And her ass… and those legs that went on for days… I want to bury my face right there between her legs, show her how it’s done. I know she hasn’t been properly fucked in a long time. Me either, for that matter…

    “John! You want hot coffee or a cold beer?”

    “Beer sounds great!”

    She brought down a cold bottle of Corona while she sipped a mug of coffee.

    “Put your jacket back on while you rest. Otherwise you’ll get very cold very fast.”

    He acquiesced and donned her brother-in-law Steve’s parka, then accepted the beer.

    “Mmmm… God that tastes good. Hard work, fresh air-“

    “And altitude, we’re above 8,000 feet here,” she added.

    “It’s perfect. So much better than dying in my car. I couldn’t be luckier to have you rescue me.”

    “I know what you mean, love. I was just—“

    She froze, realizing what she’d just called him.

    She said “love,” and unfortunately, he heard it.

    How in the fuck did that slip out? Oh shit! Maybe, I’m just so comfortable with him it felt like being with Chloe again? Or a Freudian slip? Come on! You know Freud was half a crackpot. Still…

    John gulped his beer, then handed it back to Cheryl with a barely perceptible wink.

    “Let me chop about another half hour, then we call it quits for today?”


    - - - - -


    After his shower, they settled down on the couch again with a glass of chilled Pinot Grigio. While not touching, they sat closer together than most “friends.” They watched the heavy, dark clouds scudding across the sky.

    “It’s kinda eerie out there, pretty dark for being just a bit after noon. Do you own stock in a candle factory?” John teased.

    “Be nice,” she said as she slapped his knee playfully. “I think it’s lovely.”

    “I think it’s very…” he paused for a moment and glanced around at the fifty or more various lit candles. He was going to say it looks “romantic” but changed it to, “... it’s very cozy and inviting.”

    They munched on grapes and assorted cheeses that Cheryl set out and sipped their wine. John felt tired but also somewhat exhilarated from the morning’s activities. They both enjoyed the teamwork and camaraderie while working around the house; it seemed almost like old friends helping each other rather than new acquaintances.

    “It’s ummm…” Cheryl ventured. “It’s very nice having you here. I came here to get away, you know… but I didn’t realize how nice it is to have a friend around.”

    She put her hand on his knee, and he rested his hand on top of hers for a few moments.

    “I am enjoying the heck out of this, honestly. I almost feel like I’m on vacation.” He gave her a big smile.

    They toasted their glasses and smiled, then drank to each other.

    “But, Cheryl, there are a couple of elephants in the room, and one of them is mine. And I want my elephant to go away. Is that okay?”

    “Ummm… sure… knock yourself out.”

    “My elephant is...my marriage, my wife, my life. I’ve been married 22 years, with two kids like I've told you. What I didn’t tell you is, we haven’t had sex in three years. Now, based on your “patient” comment last night, I figure you’re a psychologist or some kind of therapist, but I’m not asking you for help like that. I just want you to know what you’re dealing with.”

    “Psychiatrist. Or, was. But okay… go on… I’ll just listen and won’t analyze you.”

    “Okay, I’ll keep it short, promise.”

    He took a moment to collect his thoughts.

    “My wife and I… we just… coexist, but there’s no love, or passion, or feelings of togetherness…”

    Jesus Christ I’ve never said this stuff out loud before… it sounds horrible!

    He took a sip of wine, then got up and walked over to the big picture window. He leaned one hand on the wooden beam in between the expansive panes of glass and watched the snow as it blew off the roof, swirling around in delicate patterns.

    John took a deep breath and exhaled, then continued on.

    “I’m reaching the end of my rope. Is this how It will be for the rest of my life? I know I need to do something, but I don’t know if I have the strength. I had an internet girlfriend, for a year and a half, and we… I…”

    He choked up. He didn’t think it would be this hard. It had been eight months already.

    “I never felt more alive, more in love, more… wonderful and complete. She was the best thing that ever happened to me…”

    He had to stop again, to try and regain his composure. Not changing his position, he wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand while still holding the wine glass.

    “We, my Internet girl… aren’t together anymore. Not for awhile now. But that… that was the most pain I’ve ever felt in my life. I even considered… driving my car off the road more than a few times. Fortunately I was consulting at the time and didn’t have very good life insurance, so I stayed on the road.”

    Cheryl came up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders, and leaned her body against his back, resting her head against his shoulder blade.

    “And it’s very hard to move past this. I don’t think I’ll ever find anyone like her again. It’s like I’m... stuck, or something…

    “So, that’s my elephant. I’m married but don’t want to be, broken-hearted and don’t want to be… lonely as fuck, and I don’t want to wreck the children’s lives… so I’m a bit fucked up.”

    Finally, John turned to face her. She saw his wet, glassy eyes as he looked at her. She could tell he hadn’t ever talked about this before. Men and their friends don’t usually talk about deep stuff like personal feelings.

    Practically against her will, she leaned into him and hugged him. Hesitating at first, he hugged her back.

    “I don’t want you to think I am just an opportunist,” he continued. “Or just saying shit to make you feel bad for me. But… you just came out of nowhere… and I really like you…”

    They hugged for almost a minute, her face against his warm sweater as he breathed in her scent.

    Why did I tell her that? Now she will think she’s just a rebound chick. She probably thinks I’m a whacko, too, for having an Internet relationship. But this hug is nice… her breasts feel amazing on me. All natural, too, I can tell… Uh oh… something's happening down there.

    She kissed his cheek and led him back to the couch. They sat with his arm around her and she made no move to change that.

    “We’re going to leave my elephant where it is for awhile,” Cheryl declared. “Is that okay?”

    John nodded, he was a little worn out from releasing his pent up feelings. He also felt amazingly relaxed and he didn’t know why.

    “However, I lied… I do want to tell you a couple things from my analysis.”

    “Ha!” John smirked. “I knew it. Well then, fire away, Doc.”

    “First, you have major self-esteem issues, probably from a domineering parent—”

    “Mother,” he interrupted. “But I’ve forgiven her for that.”

    “That was going to be my guess. I’m glad you’ve forgiven her, but you haven’t forgiven yourself yet.

    “Second, you will NOT EVER think about hurting yourself. Promise me that, right now.”

    The icy tone in her voice chilled him to the bone and she stared at him so intently, it was almost frightening.

    “Oh-okay, I promise.”

    “I mean it. Don’t. And third, you’re going to be okay! You are far stronger than you think. You bent, but you didn’t break.”

    “But I wanted to break, sometimes I think it would be better if I did break—“

    “No! God Dammit, John!”

    And she slapped his face. Not terribly hard, but it stung.

    John rubbed his cheek, feeling the warm skin.

    “This is a helluva treatment technique you got going here, Doc.”

    “Listen to me, John. You see…”

    But her voice trailed off and she didn’t say anything for awhile. She pulled back away from him and rested her chin on her palm, deep in thought.

    “John, it’s like… there’s fate, but there's also self-determination. They both exist, and are intertwined. The universe brings people into your life at different times for different reasons. But what you do with them is up to you, and up to them. You have to participate in your own rescue.

    “You have to look upon each interaction as a gift for you to learn from. You loved this internet girl, right?”

    He nodded in the affirmative.

    “More than anything.”

    “And you learned a lot from her, what worked in your relationship, and you learned a lot about yourself when it came apart, right? You need to chalk it up to a learning experience. You’re a better person for coming out the other side.”

    “Well that's a very grown-up way to look at things,” John allowed. “But the jury is out on whether I’m actually a grown-up.”

    “Are you going to make me hit you again? I’m being serious.”

    John felt bad for joking around.

    “I’m sorry Cheryl. I am. It’s just that sometimes I revert to stupid jokes when things get very serious. Nervous habit, I guess. I think you shrinks call it deflection, maybe.”

    “It’s okay, John. I just… I want you to know how much you’ve got going for you. Maybe you don’t see it, but you would make most any woman thrilled to be with—“

    He put his finger on her lips. She looked at him, surprised. She was used to people, like her patients, listening to her.

    “I don’t care about ‘most any woman’ right now,” he practically whispered as he looked into her eyes. “What I care about is…”

    He looked away and cursed silently to himself. Fuck, what the fuck am I doing? This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be hitting on her like this. But, God I want her so bad. She’s so damn smart, and sexy…

    “Look,” he began again. “Ummm… I think maybe the altitude is getting to me. I’m going to take a nap if you don’t mind.”

    John excused himself, and noticed her bewildered look as he headed towards the back of the house. In the bathroom, he took his cock out and was surprised to find it about half hard. He picked up the toothpaste tube and read everything there was to read, and his cock settled down enough so he could piss.

    He laid down on his bed and tried reading a book on his phone, but he couldn’t get through two sentences without losing track. All he could think about was Cheryl, and the way she looked at him, and her lips, and face, and body.

    He shouldn’t be so concerned with cheating on his wife, he had been to lots of massage parlors and gotten many fringe benefits. What did bother him was how he felt about Cheryl. Were they just playing around? Or was there something real here? She seemed so perfect for him, but if he fell for her he would would actually have to do something about his life. But she would be so worth it…

    Finally, he put on a meditation video he had stored in his phone. He was terrible at meditating, and he hoped he would have the same result he usually did. Sure enough, fifteen minutes into the video, he lay in his bed, snoring softly.

    John’s whole body jerked and he awoke, the fragments of a dream slipping back into his sub-consciousness. He had dreamt of Cheryl, and they kissed, and he chased her in the snow… then he couldn’t find her.

    He noticed his raging hard on, too. He reached his hands inside his cargo pants and grasped his friend.

    Hey buddy, yeah I know, I like her too. Maybe we should do something about it.

    He just gave him a good stroke when a knock rang out on his door.

    “Yeah!”, he called, pulling his hand out quickly.

    “I heard you from the kitchen,” Cheryl explained as she opened the door. “You, hollered… or something. I thought you were calling for me.”

    “Ummm… I just woke up from a dream. Maybe that was it.” He tried to make himself look natural as his hard cock tented his tan pants.

    “Yeah,” she smiled at him. “I guess so. I’ve started dinner, if you like…”

    “Okay I’ll be out in a minute.”

    He went to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He noticed the light came on, realizing the solar panels must’ve charged up the battery banks a bit. He tiptoed into the kitchen as she banged around with some pots. John figured she was making homemade spaghetti sauce, judging from the tomatoes and and garlic cloves on the counter.

    He thought he might surprise her, poke her a little and say “boo!” Maybe make her laugh, or get an “oh you” out of her.

    But her sexy ass gave him other ideas.

    “What’re you staring at?” She asked without turning around.

    “How did you…?” he asked, stunned and slightly uncomfortable at being caught.

    She pointed the big kitchen knife she was using to slice the tomatoes at the large paned windows.

    He looked and easily saw their reflections in the glass. He walked over to her sheepishly, chuckling a little.

    “No sneaking up on you, huh?”

    “Nope,” she smiled at him. “Feeling better after your rest?”

    “Yeah… jeez four hours? I slept for four hours?”

    “Yep, this mountain air will do it to you . I'm going to let this sauce simmer for an hour or so and then we can eat.”

    She rinsed her hands in the sink and he handed her a towel from the rack.

    “I was staring,” he said as she handed the towel back to him. “Staring at you, Cheryl.”

    “But, I’m a mess-“ she stopped as John wiped a bit of tomato from her cheek.

    “See? God I haven’t had a shower all day and-“ she stopped again as he closed the gap between them and kissed her.

    She stood there, getting kissed for several moments, wondering what to do. But he felt so good with his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. And his fingers dug into her back a little, and he smelled so, so manly…

    She relaxed, and slumped against him, then encircled his neck with her arms and returned his tight hold. While their previous kiss was delicious in its gentleness and sweetness, this kiss left no doubt in either of their minds; they were going to be making love very soon.

    His hardened cock pressed into her pelvis, and she wriggled against it. They broke the kiss, both breathing heavier than they were a couple minutes ago.

    “Give the sauce another stir, and put it on low.”

    “Aye aye, cap’n,” she joked while putting the wooden spoon back into the pan and making a slow, circular motion.

    She turned and their eyes met. The sexual tension between them was thick and both of them knew where things were going, but before that could happen, the air had to be clear, between both of them.

    “How about a drink?” She asked.

    “Ummm… okay.”

    “Go sit on the couch, I’ll be there in a moment.”

    The mood had somehow changed; there was a deliberateness in her voice, he could hear the seriousness in her tone. He wondered if he had misread the situation earlier.

    She dropped a couple ice cubes into two glasses and poured two fingers of Gentleman Jack into each of them before following him into the large, expansive living room.

    “It’s time we talked about my elephant,” she said while handing him the glass of bourbon before sitting down on the couch beside him.

    He visibly relaxed, and held her hand gently in his. They each took a healthy sip of the Jack.

    It took her a full minute to collect her thoughts before she began speaking.

    “Two years ago, I took on a patient who was referred to me by one of my colleagues, a woman I’d gone to medical school with.”

    John took another sip of his drink and listened intently while Cheryl spoke.

    “Her name was Chloe. She was twenty-four and a very talented artist who hadn't dealt with the trauma she’d experienced in her youth.”

    She felt her hand gently begin to shake and she quickly used her other hand to calm the tremor, but not before John noticed.

    “After her third session, I diagnosed her with bipolar disorder and began prescribing medication.”

    Cheryl looked out the window at the gently falling snow in the fading twilight of the day, then back at John.

    “For the next six months, she responded well to therapy and the medication I prescribed. Her night terrors had ceased and she was able to sculpt again.”

    She took a long sip of her drink before continuing.

    “She informed me that she was entering several pieces of her work in an exhibit at the Metropolitan Gala in the city and she invited me as her guest.”

    John looked at her face and saw a single tear running down her cheek before she quickly wiped it away.

    “It never should have happened… I should never have let it happen.”

    Tears were streaming down her face now and she made no attempt to wipe them away.

    “She was so beautiful… so beautiful… and I was so weak… so lonely…”

    She took a long swig of her whiskey which emptied the glass and used both of her hands to wipe the tears away.

    “My husband traveled almost constantly for work, and I felt so alone… so empty.”

    John sat motionless, almost afraid to move.

    “So many times I wanted to end it, I had to end it, but we were so in love… she made me feel so alive, so whole, I couldn’t summon the strength to…”

    She paused for a moment, tilting her glass again, trying to find some remnants of her whiskey.

    “You see, we became so close that I was no longer her doctor. And… looking back I can see that I missed some signs, signals that any doctor would have noticed and treated. But I missed them…”

    She looked out the window again at the gathering darkness.

    “It was a Thursday morning when I got the call from the police that she’d taken her own life.”

    She began crying uncontrollably now, but John resisted the urge to take her into his arms and hold her. He knew she had more to say.

    “Her family found her in the bathtub with her wrists slashed open. She left no note, she never told me goodbye, she was just ripped out of my life in an instant.”

    Cheryl put her head in her hands and wept for a full minute and John rested his hand on her thigh in a show of support.

    “I tell myself that maybe it would have happened regardless, but I failed her. She was my patient and... I was grossly negligent in her treatment.”

    “But you loved her,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper.

    “You never get involved with a patient, John… never… friendship or otherwise… but I did.”

    John gently rubbed her thigh as she continued speaking.

    “All of my colleagues told me it wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t to blame… they circled the wagons around one of their own, you know, never knowing the whole truth… never knowing about my ethical failure.”

    He looked sympathetically into her tear-soaked eyes.

    “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to practice again. If I had any type of courage, I’d come clean and let them take my licence, but I remained silent. Now I have to live with what I’ve done for the rest of my life, knowing that because of my weakness, I was culpable in a young woman’s death.”

    He moved closer on the couch and pulled her to him, she leaned forward onto his chest as his arms wrapped around her. He held her for several minutes, stroking her hair, telling her it was going to be okay. Her tears eventually stopped.

    “So, you came up here to hide out?”

    She wiped her face with a napkin and blew her nose. “Yeah. My husband divorced me, he suspected my involvement with her, and he couldn’t handle my sadness. I couldn’t practice anymore. I didn’t want… I didn’t want to be around people very much. Do you know what I mean?”

    “I do,” he nodded. “You were hiding the lie, and you couldn’t tell anyone. And the fewer people you dealt with, the fewer people you had to lie to.”

    “Exactly! You get it!”

    “And this is the perfect place to get away from it all.”

    “Yes, my sister suggested it… well after I hinted around a lot about it! But my husband and I split the proceeds on the townhouse, and I sold all my artwork I had collected over the years, so I have plenty of money. I give her some rent and buy groceries. Everything was going to be fine, until you crashed into that tree.”

    He grinned at her, and brushed his fingers along her cheek.

    “So I’m messing up your plans? Your perfect hermit life?”

    “Yes you are!” she laughed, and he did too. “But not in a bad way, I guess. I mean, you’re married, it’s not like you’re going to leave her and come live with me, force me to be all sociable again.”

    She rubbed her face against his hand; she worried a little how good it felt to be touched, how much she missed it.

    “I’m glad you told me about Chloe,” he spoke softly, changing the conversational course. ”Thanks for trusting me with that, and I totally get why you want to be alone. But maybe… maybe we both need some… human contact.”

    He felt so comfortable with her, and it wasn’t just the whiskey he was feeling. Everything was just so easy with her. He wasn’t struggling to make conversation, wasn’t forcing himself to listen to her. Quite the opposite, in fact; he just wanted more and more of her.

    “I’m glad I told you, too. I’ve never told anyone all this, but I wanted you to know more about the woman you’re going to make love to, what you’re getting into. That is, if you’re still interested.”

    “Let me check…” he smirked. He adjusted himself so he could reach into his pants. “Yep, he’s about half hard even after hearing your tale of woe. I’d say I’m still interested.”

    He then pulled her close to him, and kissed her gently on the lips. She melted into him as they kissed a little harder. He could hear her gentle moan after breaking the passionate embrace.

    “It’s just that… well it’s been awhile for me and, you know…”

    “It’s been awhile for me, too,” he said. He began pulling her sweater up and over her head. “But Cheryl, there’s something going on here, with us. At least for me there is. And I want, I guess I want to know if you feel it too?”

    She pushed him back on the couch and then straddled him. He watched as she unbuttoned her flannel shirt, then gasped as she opened it. He knew she was wearing a bra earlier today, but she had nothing beneath her flannel now.

    Her large breasts swayed as she tossed the shirt aside, then she planted herself on top of him, crushing her breasts on to his chest. She kissed him hard and deep; her hair falling forward and covering them both like a protective shield. He breathed in her female scent, and found it intoxicating. His arms encircled her and he pulled her tighter to him.

    John’s tongue slipped into her mouth, and Cheryl stiffened slightly.

    “Sorry!” She laughed. “It’s just so sexy! Nobody has done that to me in, like, a year.”

    She re-kissed him, this time pushing her tongue deep inside his open mouth. Tongues circling, both of their heart and breath rates increased rapidly. His hand slid behind her neck, grabbing a handful of hair.

    “Hey you,” he whispered as he lifted her head back. “Let’s go to your bedroom.”

    She smiled, then laughed as he picked her up and carried her topless body into the master suite, crossing the threshold, wedding night style. He carefully deposited her on the bed, and then they scrambled a little to get undressed and under the covers.

    “Your body,” he whispered, sliding in next to her… “Your warm body, you feel so good.”

    “So do you,” she whispered back as she wrapped her legs around him.

    Their gentle kisses became more fervent; their grasp tighter, their need growing stronger.

    She helped him slide over on top of her, her hands guiding his rock hard cock.

    “Mmm John… is this for me?”

    “Yeah actually, it is. I’m pretty happy, too. To tell the truth, he’s been somewhat unreliable lately . The doctor gave me some viagra, but he joked all I really needed was a younger woman; and here you are and here he is.”

    She squeezed him hard and smiled at him in the candlelight. Guiding him further, she rubbed his cock in between her pussy lips.

    “You feel that, John?” Cheryl whispered. “Do you feel how wet I am? That’s how turned on I am for right now.”

    As he kissed her he moved up and down slightly, sliding his cock through her slick folds. She moaned as he glided over her clit a few times. Finally she pushed his penis down a little, right to her opening, and she gave John a sly smile.

    He smiled back, then leaned down to kiss her as he slowly penetrated her body. They broke their kiss as she gasped and he moaned, their bodies joining together. His weight settled on top of her, and she loved that feeling of being pinned to the bed.

    He pumped slowly yet forcefully; stretching her pussy walls and pushing his cock deeper inside. He kissed her again; softly, tenderly as his pelvis settled on hers.

    She quivered as he grinded on her clit, sending shockwaves through her body. He began to rise up to rest his weight in his elbows, but she grabbed him and pulled him to her tightly.

    “No John,” she whispered. “Make love to me like this, I want your weight on me.”

    She raised her hips to meet his forceful thrusts, each one seemingly stronger than the previous. They tried to keep kissing but couldn’t maintain the delicate contact as the intensity increased. She felt herself beginning the climb up that mountain.

    “Fuck me,” Cheryl moaned. “F-u-c-k meee... oh fuckkk…”

    “Cheryl,” John grunted. “I can’t… I can’t hold it much longer … you feel so fucking good.”

    “Give it to me,” she panted. “Give me your cum, baby!”

    With a couple final hard thrusts, John felt the surge rush through him, culminating in his hot semen firing deep into her womb.

    She felt his cock spasm, and felt him squirting inside her. She clenched her pussy around his cock, and then she shuddered uncontrollably as her orgasm rocked and coursed through her body.

    Neither of them spoke for several moments afterwards. They both gasped for breath as the moments stretched onto a minute and more.

    Finally, John lifted his head and spoke.

    “I think I went to another planet there for awhile.”

    “I know what you mean.”

    Cheryl reached up to plant her lips on his, hard. She released him after a good long kiss.

    “I think I blacked out for a few moments. Here, roll over honey, rest.”

    She clung tightly to him as he rolled to her side and slipped out of her.

    He reached down her tummy and slid his fingers to her sex, finding a slippery mess.

    “Ooh,” he whispered. “What’s all this?”

    “It’s you, and me.”

    He pushed his fingers inside her, feeling the juices flow around his fingers and hand. He tapped her leg insistently and she lifted it, giving him better access. He slipped his fingers all around her, even sliding to her backside to rub her hot little backdoor.

    “Oh God,” she moaned. “Keep that up and you’ll have to fuck me there too.”

    He inched his middle finger inside her.

    “You mean here?”

    “Yesss…”

    “Oh I will, don’t you worry about that. And I will fuck your mouth, too. And anything else you need fucked.”

    She laughed, then reached back to push his hand in deeper.

    He kissed her deeper, harder, with more passion than he had kissed anyone in years. With his middle finger inside her asshole, he rubbed his thumb up and down her slit, making sure to lovingly tickle her clit.

    “John,” she whispered, breaking the kiss. “Chloe used to do this to me… because it would, oh God right there… yes John, yes… oh God!”

    She gritted her teeth and then squealed as she trembled under his touch. John became concerned for a moment as she seemed to have then passed out. But her eyes fluttered as he withdrew his hand, and she pulled him to her to kiss his face.

    They lay quietly under the covers for over an hour, kissing, touching, whispering, caressing… and loving each other.

    They were able to salvage some of the spaghetti sauce, but a good part of it had burned and permanently attached itself to the pan. It still tasted pretty good; they had worked up quite an appetite.


    - - - - -


    The ringing phone startled them.

    The couple had become used to being “stranded” for the last five days and the sudden intrusion of the outside world was not welcomed by either of them. She lifted her head off of his cock; big saliva strings still connecting her lips to it.

    “I guess we should answer it?”

    “No,” he answered. A little miffed as he was very close to cumming.

    But she stood up and answered it. Then held it to him.

    “It’s for you, the rental car people.”

    E-Z Rentals told him the roads had cleared and they would be up this afternoon, with a new car in tow for John. He thanked them and hung up.

    They both pondered what that meant: Their five days of blissful togetherness had ended.

    He didn’t turn to face her for a few moments. She slid back in the bed and pulled the covers around her tightly. She knew what was going to happen. She knew he was going to go.

    Soon.

    He looked at her as her tears began to fall. They hadn’t spoken of what would happen when the power came back, when the roads cleared. It was an unspoken thing between them. They knew the spell might break once civilization returned to them.

    “Cheryl, I—“

    “Just pack your stuff, okay? I’ll drive you to your car when they get here. Shut my door though, please.”

    John’s head spun for several seconds, and then he achieved total clarity. His heart and mind were in synch with hers. He knew what he wanted, he knew how to get there, and he'd be damned if anyone got in his way.

    “Cheryl—“

    “John, please! Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

    “Cheryl!” He said forcefully.

    She stopped talking and looked at him, her face wet with tears.

    He’s not crying or anything, he’s not even sad it’s over? He’s smiling. God, I’m so stupid. How could I fall for his bullshit so eas—

    “Cheryl, I’m going to make two calls. First, I’m going to call the rental guy back and tell him just to retrieve the car, but don't bring me a replacement car because I don’t need it.

    “Second, I’m going to call my wife and tell her I’m alive and expect me in three days as I will still be traveling by car.”

    Cheryl thought a moment.

    “How are you going to get home if you don’t get a new car?”

    “Easy. We will take the Jeep.”

    He let that hang in the air as it sunk in to Cheryl’s brain. We.

    “You’re coming with me. I don’t plan to spend another night without you. You’ll take me to LAX airport so I can get my car. Then we’ll get you set up in a hotel. I’ll talk to my wife in person and inform her of the impending divorce, pack my bags, and meet you back at the hotel. There. Done.”

    “But… how… when will we… I mean… are you sure?”

    “I’m sure. Let’s get packed. And find me that map, would ya? I need to tell them exactly where the car got wrecked.”

    They had plenty of time, though. She finished the blowjob before they packed.



    - - End - -


    Thank you to Melanieatplay for her editing and contributions!
     
    Last edited: Jan 7, 2019
    TheHumanoid and PABLO DIABLO like this.
  2. PABLO DIABLO

    PABLO DIABLO Well-Known Member

    What an incredible love story! Both of you write so well. I'm envious of the talent. Thank you for sharing such a beautiful tale.
     
    Mojavejoe420 likes this.
  3. Mojavejoe420

    Mojavejoe420 New Member

    Thanks Pablo, you’re too kind!
     
    PABLO DIABLO likes this.
  4. TheHumanoid

    TheHumanoid New Member

    Loved it. Romance stories are one of my favorite. Would love a part 2.
     
    Mojavejoe420 likes this.
  5. Mojavejoe420

    Mojavejoe420 New Member

    Haven’t given it a lot of thought but there is definitely more story there! I’ll keep it in mind. Thanks for the comment and glad you enjoyed.