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A Few Stolen Days Ch. 03: The Day in The Car
A hot shower brought us both the refreshment that we needed from the sweaty, stained sheets. I asked Brandi if she wanted to dress for breakfast and she said, “How about getting me coffee and a something light. And make it black, I’ve already had my “cream” for the morning.” Her eyes flashed as she broke into light laughter.
I left her wrapped in her towel messing with her hair and spotted a quick trip down the block and it was a glorious morning. I didn’t even bother to start the car, it was just a joy to walk the short distance. I wasn’t terrible worried at the selection, I had noticed a coffee pot in the lobby of the small motel the evening before and figured that anything sweet would work well.
The quick trip store must have been the community Mecca. As soon as you entered you were met with the aroma of fresh coffee and a bakery had brought donuts and fresh rolls. In this little corner of no where I found fresh croissants and cappuccino and I knew Brandi would squeal at the treasure.
I hadn’t even looked closely at the map when we stopped and I asked, “By the way, what is this place?”
“Mountain City!” an older man exclaimed a bit in disgust. I could almost hear the the unspoken end of his response, “darn fool Yankee!”
The heavy set woman behind the counter, trying to put a more accommodating image of her community said, “Where are you headed for?”
I laughed, “I guess it’s obvious I’m traveling through, huh?”
She smiled a huge toothy grin, “With that accent Mister?”
I have never thought of myself as having an accent… Not at least in comparison to these Georgia folks. I decided not to pursue that agenda, I want out numbered and not sure that the South wouldn’t rise again… At least that morning.
“I’ve got reservations for this evening at Pigeon Forge in Tennessee. Best travel recommendations?”
She smiled as she wiped her hand on her apron, “Pretty place. It’s not over a hundred miles… But it’ll take you all day to get there!”
I looked quizzical. I knew the route lay through the Great Smoky Mountain national forest. “Is the road that bad?”
“No. But it is windy and you will want to stop at least in Gatlinberg and a dozen places along the way just to look at the scenery.” She had kind of a far off look about her that told me she had her own fond remembrances of that trips and her favorite places.
She broke her gaze and smiled. “Any thing else I can help with?”
I thanked her and left with my two sacks with the coffee, croissants and little tubs of butter and a plastic knife.
The towel had been replaced with a very flowery summer dress which, while it was fitted to flatter her figure, was loose and floated on her. As she walked toward me, there was no mistaking that the constraints of her bra and her breasts swayed and bobbed with her steps.
I swallowed hard and said, “What happened to you?””
“I got comfortable!” Brandi said.
We hugged and I kissed her smiling lips. My arms were around her back and my hands confirmed what my eyes had told me. There were no constraints of a bra and I relished in the fullness of her breast.
“You know you’re driving me crazy with your boobs bouncing.”
“And what makes you think I’m surprised at that?”
She was grinning at me with her teasing smile, daring me to make more of it than I could.
We at our breakfast as we sat on the bed. We talked about the trip and the route and the places that she wanted to stop on the way, and every other inconsequential topic of discussion.
We gathered our things and walked to the car. As we walked the dozen or so steps, I let my hand side down to the swell of her hip and deliciously slide downward in an intimate touch. I was caught off guard and moved my hand forward from the back of her hip where I had thought to cup her cheek. I moved again with purpose.
“You’re not wearing panties?” I whispered quietly in her ear.
She turned with her mouth almost in my ear and just as quietly answered, “No!”
I swallowed hard. It was going to be a long day and I was already fighting the profound stirrings of an erection.
We found our route and settled into the first ten minutes for our drive. I started to lean over to ask what her plans were, but she cut me off with her quick eyes and a finger over her lips, “Shhhhh…. not now!”
The day was absolute perfection. The sun was warm but not harsh and the travel was luxurious. I am accustomed to drive in order to arrive at a destination, but today I just drove because it was an excuse to be together. I wished I had rented a convertible because as we approached the mountains the view was breath taking.
But the view inside the car was extraordinary too. It was hard not to look at Brandi as we drove. Her breasts swayed with the road and she delighted in knowing that I noticed. Knowing that she had no panties on drove me a bit crazy. Without being too obvious I watched her hips and the juncture of her legs and from time to time she would loosen casino şirketleri her shoulder strap and turn part ways toward me to talk, kicking off her sandal and drawing her leg up under her.
I finally at one point couldn’t resist the temptation to ask, “Are you sitting on your heal?” Knowing that for us both was a signal of her very private pleasure.
She got a very impish grin on her face and suddenly with both hands pulled her skirt up flashing me with her heal tucked neatly between her folds. As quickly, she flattened her skirt and put her hands over her face and laughed… Turning bright red which flushed down as far as the scooped dress would expose.
“Don’t you say a word!” was her response and she turned forward to sit as prim and proper as a school teacher in front of her class.
I scowled at her. We held hands and both looked at each other and smiled.
The morning passed quickly and we made good time. We stopped periodically at the curio shops and nibbled on things from every one of them. It was more fun and relaxing than I remembered having in times past remembering. She was smiling and relaxed and funny and subtly sexy all at the same time. I wondered if we had both been released from our own little cages for a day of play and nothing would stand in the way.
Early in the afternoon we stopped at a scenic overlook. It actually wasn’t at the crest of the mountain scenery, but a little park like area with a little valley and brook flowing through it.
It was fun to stop and stretch our legs. It was little more than a pull out area on the highway and didn’t appear to be one of the more popular spots, at least on that afternoon. We walked down over the noel of the hill into the valley… More of a draw which though it was less than 30 yards from the highway was hidden in the foliage and by the height.
The brook was small but clear and cold. Brandi kicked off her sandals and swished her feet in the cool water and laughed as she kicked it on me as a child playing in the water.
We savored the scenery and the colors, holding hands and holding each other. It was a magical place. Brandi then turned to me and in a whisper in my ear she said, “I have to pee!”
I looked and laughed at her comical situation. There were no restrooms, just bushes. “Take your pick!” I indicated her options with a sweep of my hand.
“What if someone stops?” she asked with serious reservations.
Taking my hand, she pulled me into the brushy area, “You stand watch!”
She squatted down and looking at me she said, “Aren’t you going to turn around?”
“That isn’t very gentlemanly of you!” she said with an obvious pout.
“No… And not wearing any panties isn’t very ladylike!” I mocked her tone.
Gathering her skirt up until she was exposed from the waist down she glared at me in defiance and without betrayal of her apprehension, I heard the unmistakable sound of a stream of water hitting the ground.
I swallowed hard, knowing that my coolness was being betrayed by my short breath and I suspected I was blushing. She stood having finished and walked past me back toward the car and turned. “Are you going to stand there with your mouth open or take me to our cabin?”
As we got back into the car, I said, “You’re driving me crazy, I guess you know.” I whispered in her ear and then just because I could, I nuzzled her neck and kissed her behind her ear.
“Good . . . I guess my strategy is working then” she said as she turned toward me.
“Do you run through the woods not wearing underwear often?”
Giggling, she said, “No. But then, you are my first for a lot of things.
“I’m sorry, but if you could read my mind you’d know the image that is creating for me.”
“Good, that’s why I did it. I want you to be excited and looking at me with lust in your eyes!” she beamed.
We started the travel again and she began to settle back into her seat and closed her eyes.
“You know I’m not about to let you sleep the whole trip?”
“Oh no? Just watch me”
I decided that whatever her plans included that I was not to be left out. As she turned, she shifted her hips and took my free hand in hers. She then brought the back of my hand close into her lower tummy and my mind began to wonder just what she was up to.
She pulled my hand down toward the vee of her legs and then slowly back up and I realized that there was just enough friction to cause her dress to ride up with the action.
I realized that two could play this game and as she brought my hand downward again, I turned my hand, breaking free of her grasp on my fingers. Her hand found my wrist and my fingers found the bare skin of her legs below her hiked skirt.
Knowing that she wore no panties, the touch of her leg was exquisite. If she didn’t feel the electricity, then I surely did for us both. I lightly rubbed my finger tips against her inner leg and decided that this was going to be an interesting afternoon interlude.
I could tell there was no resistance from her. She alternately casino firmaları pretended to be asleep and then through almost closed eyes I could see her smiling. Yet, there was no perceptible encouragement either. She didn’t shift to accommodate my fingers between her legs.
Since she had set the stage, it was up to me to play out the action, wondering if it were to be a seduction, drama, or comedy.
Slowly, and I hope agonizingly for her, I lifted my fingers on her skin drawing her skirt upwards. After an eternity, I found the vee where both her legs intersected her lower belly. With the way she was posed, there was lots of skin but no entrance to the deeper vee of her cleft. I knew I was dragging my fingers lightly over her freshly shaved pubic bone. She made no motion.
She shifted and things happened in unison. She turned slightly to sit slightly toward me and her legs opened. She had moved enough to offer me access to the center of her being. She also pulled her loose skirt over my hand and her knees.
Lightly, I turned my hand to cup her lips and found that instead of being tucked back, they were open and moist. I knew my touches hadn’t gone for naught. I let my finger lay over the full length of her cleft and as I let the tip of my finger probe her outer defenses, she coughed to cover the sudden catch in her voice.
For anyone watching us from other cars on the highway, they saw two people making small talk. Had there been those close enough, they might have heard her voice struggling to remain calm with the breathy hoarseness that might have been blamed on the cool air of the day.
What no one saw was the feeling of my fingers as they moved, opening her and drawing out her wetness.
The tip of my middle finger began to explore her cleft. Toward the back, bottom, of her cleft, there was no mistaking the dampness that gave evidence to the deep pool of her womanhood. Wanting to intentionally go slowly, I was careful to let my movements be slight and with careful intent.
I touched her wetness. With the lubrication that flowed from her, I let my finger sink slowing into her, like quicksand engulfing its victim. I stopped at the first knuckle and drew back and with it came greater moistness. In a circular motion, I explored the texture of her swelling lips and the velvet which lay between them. With each touch, her flesh opened and seemed not to constrict. She was like soft clay and each touch left its continuing form on her.
Slowly I sank my finger into her to the middle knuckle feeling the heat and wetness of her inner being. I tried not to stare at her while I was exploring her, lest I would drive off of the road and anyone should discover the hidden secret which we were sharing. But as I glanced, I noticed that her eyes were closed and she was holding herself with a certain stiffness. To add to her distress at the situation, as I withdrew from her, I dragged my finger from her depths upward through her cleft. Her moisture was more than enough to deal with the friction and I found that beneath the over sheltering outer lips she was already an open channel. As I curled my finger to reach the crest of her cleft, I found her already erect. Without intending to, as my finger curled, the movement caused me to “flick” the protrusion of her excitement and from deep in her throat there came an audible “eke” with an embarrassed cough to cover it.
She opened her eyes and looked at me. It was a strange mixture of hostility and lust. She knew I was having my revenge on her for watching her without being able to speak or touch. She reached down with her hand, below her skirt and grasped me by the wrist.
I thought she was going to yank my hand from her to relieve the agony of her suffering. But she pulled my hand closer to herself and without visibly moving the upper part of her body, she moved to open herself even more to me. She also moved her hips against me, begging for more.
I watched for a moment, thinking that the movement of her hips would be betrayed by her upper body. But she had simply laid back in her seat, looked at me with a smile and closed her eyes.
As much as I wanted to draw the agony out, I found my fingers had a mind of their own. My middle finger had found her depth again but as I moved to the middle knuckle again, she moved her hips and suddenly I was buried in her to the depths that our positions would allow.
I became lost in her. Swirling my finger around to feel the delicious texture that met my touch at every movement. Knowing that every movement was met by a deep twitching of her muscles in her pelvis.
It became a ritual. Long slow deep strokes into her and then a drawing out and upwards to “flick” the peak of her excitement.
Periodically I would linger on her stiffness, caressing it and teasing it. Even when I plunged into her depths, I was careful to make sure my palm remain in contact with her. The movement of her hips grinding a sense of satisfaction from the contact.
Her breathing became more shallow and I knew it was having a profound effect güvenilir casino on her. It was a challenge to see how much pleasure I could inflict on her while wondering what would happen if her orgasm were to break out vocally. Visions of Meg Ryan in the movie “When Harry met Sally” flashed in my mind and I laughed.
She looked at me, but there was no laughter. She was deep into her sexual need and there was a demanding gaze in her eyes.
I was driven to find ways to increase my attention, to feed the demand to make her whole again.
She was so soft and open and wet that I moved to couple my ring finger with my middle finger to open her more with each plunging thrust. Instead of finding a barrier in her tightness, my fingers were immediately lost in her depths as though she were already ahead of me, waiting on me to catch up.
Some my index finger joined the assault and at last I found the tension and the stretching that I had sought. Her leg moved hard against mine and I lowered my knee. She immediately moved her leg on top of mine to allow her to spread herself open. She slumped down in her seat slightly. Even though I knew her posture was uncomfortable, I knew her attention was lower than her back. It was focused at the juncture of her legs and ecstasy.
The moisture from her being had pooled at the lower point of her opening and with the change of her posture the point where her cleft moved into the separation of her cheeks had disappeared and her bottom was being flooded.
I moved my finger down this time to massage the wetness into her tight opening and the effect was magical.
Her hand which had never left contact with my wrist when we had moved earlier, released my wrist and with a smooth movement she flattened her hand and moved it downward under my wrist until I knew her fingertips were entering her cleft.
I could feel the gentle movement of her fingers on her erection. It was not familiar to my touches. There was the gentlest of movement almost in a circular movement, with the slightest up and down movement.
As I swirled the wetness of her fluids into her back entrance, I let my wrist lay over her hand to feel the excitement of what she was doing. I could feel that her two fingers had separated her hardness from her cleft and that her outer lips were caught in the separation of her index and little fingers and her middle and ring finger were laid in the channel either side of her swollen erection. Protruding from the center of that was the unmistakable smoothness of the peak of her erotic excitement.
Had I had the opportunity to loosen my erection from the awkward confines on my shorts, I think I would have exploded with that. I presume the effect was shared, for as I massaged her, I felt her stiffen and the unmistakable construction of her muscle under my finger began to a spasm.
I looked at her, wondering what the visual effect of her obvious orgasm was going to be in her face and posture. Usually she is very expressive both physically and vocally at the moment of her climax. What I saw was a very rigid posture almost in rigor and a brief fluttering of her eye lids.
She again grasped my wrist and pulled me from between her legs and I could feel her clench her legs together. There were no feelings of having been bared from her inner center, but a sense of her not wanting something to escape. It was almost like the clenching of a little girl who is holding herself to keep from going to the bathroom.
A deep breath and a moving upward in her seat and then a settling over on my shoulder. Her eyes never opened but the rigidness of her body melted into a buttery feeling.
I whispered, “You OK?”
“Glorious! Now sush… Don’t talk. Let me just soak in this for a moment.”
I knew my release would come before the day was over and I knew that what I wanted was not to just watch my creamy fluids run down my hard shaft… I could do that on my own. I was contented that she was riding on a sexual buzz that would continue and yield it’s fruits for my tasting and enjoyment later.
We passed through Gatlinberg and I asked if she wanted to shop. It was mid-afternoon. She looked at me and said, “I want you to wine me, and dine me!” And then with a wink she said, “And I want to be your dessert!”
The cabin was not far removed from civilization, but I wanted to stop before we went. I wanted her contented and without distractions for the evening.
We sat in a quiet booth in a nice restaurant with a luxurious meal. It was slow and unhurried and through most of the time we held hands across the table and our fingers played as teenagers so often do with sexual tension. I watched her breasts move and I could have let the afternoon go on forever.
We finished early enough to arrive at the cabin before dusk. The hosts had provided breakfast provisions in the refrigerator and champagne. They gave us directions and reaffirmed our privacy. The road was rustic and the cabin blended into the woodlands and was lost in the foliage. It was impressive with the quilted bedspread in the king-size bed in the center of a large one room cabin with the only closed space being the bathroom. The kitchen was a nook with a full glassed view of the back deck which towered above the hillside which dropped off two stories below.
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