“A ‘change of process’? That sounds ominous. But if she’s gone, what will you be doing?”
I had considered that. “Long bike rides. There’s a cool front forecast before the next inferno rolls in, so I can maybe roll a century…” a hundred-mile ride “…each day. Cheaper than a gym.”
“Those are your days. What about your nights?” Her voice went low and sultry. “Robby is off to Lompoc for a few days. You can ride me instead of your bike.”
My reptile brain stomped on my prefrontal lobe, i.e. desire trumped reason.
“You know where to find me. Bring some wine. Don’t bother with clothes unless you’ll be biking, too.”
She laughed. “You want more exercise? Let’s leave our knickers off and you can chase me around the desert. Take me whenever you catch me. That’s proper fun.”
I thought of films where the studly hero got the half-naked girl after her catching her on the run. Did I need the effort?
“Cut to the chase,” I said. “Come over, strip down, and I’ll take you right by the cactus. That’s the way you like, init?”
You may wonder where I got my ‘as Brits say’ lines. She was my source. Sure, her accent was nice, but plumbing her buns entertained me. And her.
“Cheeky bugger,” she chanted.
“Hey, have I ever buggered you? Is that what you want? Get nice and clean, okay? Come outside and I’ll hose-out your ass with the high-pressure nozzle first.”
“I’ll nozzle YOU, boy! Then, the corncob up your bum!”
“Promises, promises. You think your tongue can reach my prostate?”
“Oh probably, but a corncob is more certain. But your maize corn is so costly. What is it, a buck an ear?”
“I’ll buccaneer your butt if you want,” I promised. “After our shifts.”
Alicia never talked to me like this. But Lakshmi was spicier. Especially after our work day was over.
She bought the pizza. Luigi smiled anyway. We went to my shack and I doggy-fucked her. She howled, as usual. I reheated pizza slices for us to munch while slugging her wine (better than Gallo) and lounged on the chaises. Coyotes howled, louder than her, so I took her inside and dog-fucked her again. Her shouts were quite competitive.
We snuggled together and slept. She was best when snoring. No talk, only breath. I liked her this way.
.
===== Saturday =====
Lakshmi still occupied my bed in the morning so I knew to provide tea and oatmeal. That was easy. The missionary fuck afterward was even easier. This woman sure was eager to open her creamy thighs to me! But to who else? Another blood test loomed in my immediate future.
The Rock-And-Rescue class was over so I had no commitments today beyond a long bike ride. Lakshmi derailed that plan with her mouth and pussy, both eager for me all day. Did her Robby even hope to satisfy her by himself or did he need to hire help?
No matter. I kept her womb filled with live sperm now. Would she name a kid after me?
We fucked in my bed, cleaned up, and she drove us into the desert in her 4×4 minivan and stopped by a remote rockpile. Rear door open, back seats down and leveled and covered with a soft pad, we fucked in the morning air. We wiped off and she drove to a fat cholla cactus patch where we fucked again. Then up a rocky hill trail to the cool shade of a piñón grove for more, in sweaty new positions.
The woman was insatiable! But she kept me pumping till I was exhausted so I had no complaints.
“Enough!” I insisted around noon. We sat outside a roadside pit stop; she bought the burgers and root beers. “You have fucking drained me *dry*. I’ll need to bike this afternoon to recover. Have mercy, baby!”
She laughed. “Okay, I’ll give you the rest of the day off. But what about tonight?” She squeezed my arm.
“Got a date. Roller-skating with a couple of sisters. You wanna horn in on me there, too?”
“Ooh, the Sagebrush? I love that place. And you’ll take smoochy sisters there? Sure, I’m in for that. Which is better for fucking in the parking lot, your truck or my van?”
I could smell her arousal still. She was hot for this.
“I’m driving. The pickup’s front seat holds three across so you’ll either ride in back or sit in Rosa’s lap, or vice versa.”
“Ooh, this Rosa should be fun! Yes, let’s go, once you have your strength back.”
She reached to squeeze my cock. Nothing subtle about this woman!
She drove me home and left for whatever, maybe extended masturbation, with a vow to be back by seven. I saddled up and pedaled my ass off, only a half-century this warming afternoon, complementing my sexual exercise. Gotta stay fit one way or another, right?
I missed supping with Paige; my cheesy-mac meal was lonely. And no wine because I would drive. Then the Ortega sisters arrived, and Lakshmi, and loneliness was forgotten for the nonce.
“Women to fuck!” my reptile brain crowed. “Babies to make! Immortality to seize!” My rational brain stayed quiet.
The pickup’s front seat was crowded and sultry, even with windows open, as I drove to the Sagebrush RollerRama, what with Lakshmi necking with the sisters, sitting in their laps. I prudently parked in my distant sheltered spot. The night promised to be lively.
Mira was there; I introduced her to my fuck-buddies and though she missed Paige, the four happily skated and giggled. That svelte auntie from my last visit found me, had us out of our skates before long, and we soon were fucking in my truck. She was pretty damn limber!
We cleaned off and joined the four women at pushed-together tables for ginger-beer vanilla floats and saucy talk. The ‘auntie’ called herself Nadine and easily took up our bantering.
Derek, the venue’s owner, stepped over to us.
“You’re all pretty much regulars here and I have an offer for you, just for good customers. I’ll have a ‘private club’ side of the place. Fifty bucks for membership buys you discounts on everything, and invitations to special events for members and limited guests.”
“How much discount,” Lakshmi asked, “and how many guests, and what events?” She was practical, a nice way of saying ‘mercenary’.
“Fifteen percent, one guest each, and clothing optional sessions, closed to the public.” Derek was smooth.
Naked skating and dancing! Cheap beer! Heaven!
“You’ll take my cheque?” I was in for this.
“Sure, but I need to copy ID’s to prove you’re of age.”
“Done.” I had my cheque book and passport out already.
All the ladies produced payment and photo ID’s. None were shy. The future looked good and so did they. Yum!
Derek waved at a girl with a Polaroid camera. She snapped our faces, stamped an ink embossment on the back of each photo, and punched a hole in a corner for a spun lanyard. “Wear it around your neck for admission.”
“What event is next?” Nadine asked. Hers dangled in her impressive cleavage.
“Well,” Derek said, “there’s a new holiday coming up, the same as Bastille Day, called International Nude Day. I’ll be open from early till late, inside here and the fenced area out back. Come for sun and fun. Check your clothes at the door. I’ll have cots available when you’re too drunk to drive home. Don’t want to lose any customers, nope.”
Stark naked holidays sound good to me.
=====
Younger and older fellows hovering nearby took the ladies to the dance floor. I was invited out by the ranch wife I had noticed before. She was Ruth, and besides dancing, was good for a fast, friendly fuck in my truck. Damn, I was drained now! But still willing.
Heading back inside, we passed Lakshmi leading a young cowboy out. “Cab’s open,” I told them; “try not to break anything.” She laughed. He blushed. “And wipe up when you’re done.” He gurgled.
“Buck’s a cute kid,” Ruth said, “a hand on a ranch over the hill from ours. I’ll have to try him sometime.”
Shameless women are the most fun. But do not neglect regular STD checks.
The drive back was quiet, humid, and smelly, but the seat was clean. Rosa sat in the middle, her legs straddling the stick shift, her hand on my wasted cock. Dalia rode in Lakshmi’s lap, necking.
I wondered who would occupy my bed tonight. All three, plus me, would find it cramped.
We paired off in the little shower, Rosa with me, then Dalia with Lakshmi, followed by air-drying outside, and lounging with better wine under the stars. Coyotes sang. Creatures rustled. Women took turns sucking my cock. All was well.
Ah, the bed situation. The sisters cuddled on the sofa (it was just wide enough) and watched Lakshmi ride me and howl. Then she snuggled with Rosa on the sofa while Dalia rode me. Then Rosa came to ride me… I was only the supine fuck-toy for the night …and she stayed with me while her sister and the exotic slut snored together.
Each woman had curled her fingers in my dark chest carpet and held tight while they rode me like a playful pet pony. I was amazed any hair remained.
Though I missed Paige, this sure was fun. I even came again; Rosa got my last drops. We were a good fit but we knew it was lust, not love. Our paths led elsewhere.
Middle-of-the-night needs drove us four to the bath about the same time. I was last out, and found a reconfiguration — Rosa had the sofa comfortably to herself and I was nestled between Lakshmi and Dalia. Cozy…
.
===== Sunday =====
A double blowjob made a great wakeup call.
I served coffee, tea, oatmeal, and yogurt for our naked breakfast outdoors.
“What’s up for today?” Dalia asked, sipping hot java.
“Much as I’d like to service y’all constantly, my semen supply is rather depleted, so I need to go riding. Anybody want to rent a bike and join me? I’ll keep the pace easy.”
“Oh, poor baby,” Lakshmi chided, “all tuckered out? Or you’re tired of us already? What a pity.”
“Hey, he needs to save himself for the Nude Day event,” Rosa said in my defense. “Stay strong, lover.” She reached to pat my arm. Was she claiming possession? Okay, she could own me when she was here.
“We need to make an appearance at home before too long,” Dalia said. “You know how Mamá gets.”
“I want to spend the day and night with you,” Lakshmi cooed, “so I’ll be happy to ride. Keep myself toned and fit. Ride a bike, ride a biker, a fine pastime.”
Did I mention that she was a slut? Fun, though. But Rosa did not look happy, more like resigned. Dalia just smirked.
The sisters dressed, kissed us, and drove away. I loaded my ten-speed in Lakshmi’s van; she drove us to the bike shop and picked out a racer for the day. We packed water bottles, lunch sandwiches, and a rolled blanket; donned helmets, and took off on the cindercone run, not too far, not too hard.
She rode the bike well. Then we spread the blanket at a secluded site and she rode this biker (me) well, before lunch. Insatiable, remember?
We finished the ride, not too disheveled, and turned in her bike and helmet. She bought us wine and take-out curry, and drove us back to my shack for a shower, another fuck, and feasting naked in the desert twilight.
My shortwave’s outside speaker gave us a Cuban music station. The feisty Salsa sounds were hot, and so was the dessert fuck. My balls might be drained but she could still lead me to bed, blow me hard, and energetically ride me to the distant sunset, moaning the whole way. Hi-yo Silver!
I slept well and almost did not mind that she held my cock most of the night.
.
===== Monday =====
The semester was over but my vicious alarm had to rouse us for the ambulance shift. Lakshmi got a good-morning fuck and my breakfast effort of veggie omelet, crisp hash-browns, and jet-fuel-quality coffee.
I took advantage of her well-fed mood and enticed her to pose nude in the morning light for my Rolleiflex. I promised her as many sheets of contact prints as she wanted.
“Three,” she demanded. “One stays intact for my files, one to cut up into purse-size pics, and one to mark up so you’ll know which to crop and enlarge when you can. I won’t tell my Robby where they came from. It’s our little secret, init, driver?” She reached to squeeze my balls, not too hard. “But enough of that. Let’s fuck some more now.”
She blew me hard and rode me again, then showered and walked naked to her van to fetch her EMT duds. We were on-call partners this week while Alicia was off gallivanting.
“My Robby will be home tomorrow so I’d best not fuck you too much tonight. Got to look and smell good for him. But motor to my place when we’re off-call; I’ll make it worth your while.”
I considered her offer. Paige said she would be ‘home’ tonight. I could swing in late, smelling of curried sex, and so deliver… what message? Would I do better to stop at the store today and talk rationally?
Fuck rational. I think I was falling in love with Paige. But we had our own lives and paths and pains. But… what?
My rational and reptilian brains spoke as one.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” I promised. ‘Take any offered fuck’ was my basic rule. Did my cock run my life? Absolutely!
=====
Multiple ambulance runs kept me from relaxing much today. Lakshmi flashed me her tits a couple of times but otherwise remained professional.
I was home playing guitar when my shift ended at six.
By six-oh-five I was in a thin tee, cargo shorts, and sneakers, and driving my pickup to her and Robby’s faux-adobe hacienda across town.
By six-twenty-five I was sprawled unclothed on a swanky bed with a beautiful naked Bengali woman sucking my cock and preparing to ride me again. I was hesitant to mouth her busy cunt but she had no qualms of going down. Fine by me!
By fuck-it-all o’clock she had squealed several times and coaxed a spray of my sperm to swim up her snatch. We were sweaty and stinky and her vaginal muscles had me in a tight grip. She leaned forward, put her tits in my face, and squealed more when I suckled hungrily.
A few minutes later we were sweatily dripping naked in her kitchen. She pulled chicken masala from the oven… “Yes, I cook, waiting for ambulance calls” …and served a nude dinner rather tastier than my usual stews.
Some time after that she was blowing my soggy cock hard and riding me again, squealing happily. I managed a last sperm-squirt into her.
Then she threw me out.
“Must clean up now. You’ve been fun. But a housewife’s work is never done.” In other words, don’t let the door hit my ass on my way out. I knew the routine.
Well, she let me dress first, sliding my minimal clothes on my dirty, worn body. I sucked her bare, salty tits again, and drove home, licking my lips.
=====
Paige’s motorbike was in the usual spot. Paige was not in the house. I stepped out back; she lounged naked with a tumbler of wine and a nervous expression. She hopped up, hugged me, inhaled, and scrunched her face. She said nothing.
Neither did I. I gave her a gentle squeeze and turned to go inside. She held my elbow and caught my eyes. She nodded slightly. I nodded back and headed for my needed shower.
I heard her tenor sax moaning softly out the open door. I towel-dried lazily, poured a tall tumbler of cheap wine, fetched and tuned my twelve-string, and joined her.
She sat cross-legged in her chaise, her strawberry blonde bush almost glowing, the sax nestled between her rather nice breasts, her eyes closed. She looked at me half-dazed when I followed her musical pattern, then almost smiled around her mouthpiece and took off in a minor mode. We played mainly slow blues and maudlin rags in the deepening twilight. Coyotes sang; I did not.
We finished our wine. She went for more, and we played into the night, and finished that wine, too. We stood, laid our instruments down, and hugged nakedly, tightly. We still had not spoken one word.
We went inside and stashed the sax and guitar. I yawned and climbed into bed; she curled under a thin cover on the sofa. I do not know who slept first.
After our middle-of-darkness bathroom breaks, she spooned behind me in bed. One or both of us shivered, and not from cold.
What the fuck was this girl doing to me?
.
===== Tuesday-Thursday =====
I awoke to a dawn blowjob well before my alarm sounded these weekday mornings. I pulled Paige around for a responsive sixty-nine. I think we had forgiven each other but we talked cautiously, as through a safety screen.
We breakfasted, dressed, and escaped to our days, her at the store, me ready for ambulance calls but busy in the county library, leafing through journals and peering into a computer screen for online research. I scanned UseNet, FidoNet, and GopherNet for alternatives for my future.
The friendly, MILFy head librarian’s great breasts were barely contained by her tight, bright blouse but she was a Major’s wife so I never hit on her. No Jodying.
She suggested some search paths, and I found a most appealing option. Outside the country, too. I would have to think hard about this.
Paige survived my stews these nights, and mixed naked music with wine out back in the twilight, and fucked my brains out before we snored together, and woke me with blowjobs. Neither of us asked or told of our weekend.
She did not object when I asked her to pose nude for my camera, indoors and out. I took that as a sign of acceptance.
I waited till our naked breakfast Thursday to mention the Friday event. Yes, I am a wimp.
“Tomorrow’s a members-only Nude Day party indoors and out at the Sagebrush RollerRama. I have a substitute for my on-call shift. Want to come as my guest?”
She blinked and sipped her still-hot coffee. Her rather nice breasts wobbled; her nipples drew a squiggly pattern.
“One day’s notice? Yeah, Gramps can handle the store. Okay then; when do we go?”
My eyes tracked more boob-bobbling. Damn this girl!
We made music that evening, and sucked-and-fucked late into the night. We had no need to wake early.
.
===== Friday, Bastille Day, International Nude Day =====
Noon was early enough to ready ourselves. I parked my pickup in the usual secluded corner and saw Rosa’s and Lakshmi’s cars already there. A moped that looked like the Korean girl Mira’s was chained to a post. I wondered who else would appear in bare-ass splendor.
Paige and I checked in at the door, got her a guest pass to dangle between her rather nice breasts, and left our clothes in roller-rink lockers. We joined the swarm of naked skaters. Derek, the owner, was obviously choosy about recruiting ‘members’ — none were too flabby or unattractive. And he seemed prudently selective because I did not notice many from the base.
Lakshmi skated with an imposing Samoan-looking hunk with a cock that would shame many stallions. I had seen him (clothed) in town. She introduced him as her guest but I did not catch his ten-syllable name but ‘call me Johnny’ worked. Hot auntie Nadine joined them, sandwiching the fellow between their naked selves. He looked pleased.
Rosa and Dalia rolled up with their guests Alyssa and Tshombe, a sleekly shiny Black couple we shared some classes with. Hot ranchwife Ruth skated by with the young ranchhand Buck; her rancher hubby rolled arm-in-arm with Mira till she saw me and Paige, laughed, and cut loose to hug us.
A stunning, tattooed, platinum-blonde girl quickly snatched the sun-seared rancher and took off with him. He did not seem to mind losing Mira.
Naked skaters rubbed flesh as they passed. Some may have collided intentionally. Imagine that!
Even with cooled air, the exercise wore us out. Paige, Mira and I turned in our skates and headed for refreshments.
Every order at the snack bar included a light towel. “No bare butts on the seats,” we were warned. “We still have health standards.”
We three took our discount beers to a café table. We only needed two towels; Mira sat in my lap, not quite fucking me. We watched dancers on the smooth floor, grinding close, or hopping happily, shaking sexy bits.
“Let’s see what’s happening out in the sun,” Paige suggested.
“Same here,” Mira said. “I need a better tan.”
Who was I to argue? We picked up our towels, refilled our beers, and headed out to the fenced-in patio. Some benches and lounge chairs sat in shade but we chose a sunny picnic table and people-watched.
In the chairs, more than a few naked women sat in male laps, squirming and moaning. More than a few women moved between male laps, almost a musical-chairs game but not synchronized with the dance music from the outside speakers.
Mira had me turn on the bench seat so she could sit in my lap, lean back against my chest, slip my hard cock into her, and squirm and groan. She finished before me and made room for Paige whose active cunt muscles provoked my orgasm after her own. Good thing she was not a wailer.
Other women (and men) were noisier but this was a private space, not public sex, so no crimes here, officers. Fuck, for all I knew, some of the members could be cops. Out of uniform, ha.
Lakshmi and ‘call me Johnny’ came outside. He took a lounge chair; Mira stared at his horse-cock and went to sit in his lap. Hot auntie Nadine followed them out, smiled at me, and found a friendly lap to inhabit.
Lakshmi, blatant as usual, folded her towel to protect her nice knees as she knelt between Paige’s thighs and slurped juices from her wet pussy and my soggy cock. She pulled Paige’s face to hers and shared our creampie, then bent again to blow me. Insatiable slut, remember? But I did not revive quickly so she stood, looked around, and sashayed to an empty lap and its big black cock. She settled down with a happy sigh. Big black fingers pinched her nipples. She squirmed and moaned.
Paige and I drained our beer mugs. She wiped us clean and waved at a circulating lovely waitress in a loincloth for refills and fresh towels. She filled my lap, leaning back. I held her rather nice breasts. We twisted our heads to kiss. I tasted ale and cum. I did not mind.
“A ‘clothing optional event’, huh?” she smirked. “More like a legal orgy, not just Nude Day. It’s a great excuse.” She wiggled off to sit beside me.
Rosa and Dalia came outside, waved at us, and found adjacent empty laps. Their guests Alyssa and Tshombe followed and came to our long bench.
“Hi guys,” Alyssa said, “school’s out, mind if we join you?”
She sat beside me; he sat at Paige’s other side. She looked at my exercised crotch.
“Ooh, that’s a nice one! May I play with it?” She was so polite!
She fisted my ruddy cock without waiting for an answer. Rudely impetuous, then.
Paige briefly watched us, nodded, and took matters (and Tshombe’s big black cock) in hand. He inflated in her grasp.
“Let’s have fun,” Paige said. She knelt before him and licked his mouth-watering ebony manhood.
“Good idea,” Alyssa said. She knelt between my thighs for fellatio. She was damn good.
Tshombe and I sat nearly side-by-side with each other’s woman on her knees, wetly blowing us. What could we American guys do but grin and high-five?
What else? Well, we could get fucked.
Alyssa stood, turned, and dropped carefully into my lap, impaling herself on me. With no hesitation, Paige turned and took Tshombe into her pussy.
Patio-goers around us engaged in various forms of sucking and fucking but I focused on the butt nestled in my groin, the firm black breasts in my grasp, the vaginal muscles working my cock like wet fingers… but not on Paige fucking the guy beside me. I tried to ignore who was there and their sounds and vibes.
Paige and I had our own lives, and she had not brought a guy to my home, so I discarded my head’s jealousy lobe and let my reptile brain have its way. I fucked up into taut, tight, sweating Alyssa, syncing my up-strokes with her down-slams, and pinched her thick nipples, and bit her neck, marking her as mine… for the moment.
My jealousy lobe yelled about foreign hickies on Paige and foreign sperm in her. My reptile brain yelled to shut up and fuck. So I fucked.
Our shared bench was shaking under our steam-hammer sex vibrations. We avoided collapsing it by shooting jiz into hungry cunts and calming down, dripping.
We circulated after that. I did not try to track or remember all who sucked or fucked me, or whose male or female genitals Paige had imbibed. This was not an event to tabulate. Just another orgy, right?
We could still communicate. After much beer and sex and the oh-dark-hundred ‘last call’ warning, Paige emerged from a final clusterfuck and took my hand. “Let’s go.” I only nodded.
We headed for the restrooms and cleaned ourselves as best we could, fetched our clothes, and walked naked under the stars to my pickup. I was in no shape to drive; I peeled off the tarp, spread sleeping bags, and we huddled and snored till sunrise. We ignored noises of vehicles leaving the parking lot and sex sounds swirling from those remaining.
.
===== Saturday =====
Yet another dawn blowjob woke and revived me.
Paige kissed her way up my worn but willing body.
“Fuck me, Greg. You’re the best. You really are. Fuck me.”
My jealousy lobe warned, ‘sloppy seconds, no, more like sloppy thirty-thirds.’ My reptile brain insisted, ‘fuck fuck fuck’.
The lizard won. I rolled between her open thighs and shoved my brainless dick into her used cunt.
Anger rose after a few strokes. I pulled out and flipped her over.
“Big Dawg says, ‘On your hands and knees, bitch!’ Now!”
I slapped her warm, rather nice ass. She assumed the position and looked over her shoulder at me.
“I’m your damn bitch and you’re my hellhound. Fuck me, Greg!”
That is just what I did, with no pretense of gentleness. I fucked her hard, mauled her rather nice swinging tits, bruised her slim hips, and pistoned without mercy. Woof!
She scrunched down and freed a hand to frig herself… a clear signal that we were on our own, orgasm-wise. She diddled for her pleasure and I pounded for mine. Almost an Ayn Rand plotline: enlightened self-interest, fuck the world!
I changed angles and pounded deeper. She moaned a soft wail. I slowed, grunted, and erupted, deep, deeper, sending vicious sperm into her womb to do battle with any previous wigglers. MY bitch! MY immortality! I should have howled.
My reptile brain was proud of me.
Paige collapsed under me and I laid on her now, supporting my weight on my elbows and her butt. We both sighed. I rolled off her. She held me close.
“Thank you, Greg,” she whispered. “For this. For everything. For letting me be me. You really are the best.” We kissed.
I dug out a fairly clean towel and we wiped-down each other.
Sex sounds emerged from around us, from parked vehicles, and even closer. I sat up and saw a few couples fucking or relaxing on sleeping bags on the ground. Paige sat up naked beside me and peered at the scene.
“Must be folks with motorbikes or sub-compacts,” she said.
Mira’s moped was not chained to its post. I hoped she had fun.
The rink’s door was wide open with a COFFEE banner strung above. Derek was a smart guy, I thought.
I bent to lick Paige’s nipples. “Let’s cover up and get going before sheriffs get here.”
She bent further to kiss my dickhead. “Good idea.” She squeezed my balls and sat up. “Yeah, time to go. I need to get to the store before long.”
I licked her nips again, then twisted and retrieved yesterday’s clothes. Lying, sitting, and standing, we comically managed to dress. Others around us, in or out of vehicles, contorted and dressed. We hopped down and beat the rush to the snack bar.
Industrial-strength coffee and fat Danish pastries powered us for the drive homeward.
=====
She leaned against me as I drove. I guess she thought this a good time to plot our future.
“Greg, I have a suggestion. I’m set for UCLA this fall. My family has a store and apartment just off-campus in Westwood. The clerk there is moving on and I’ll take the flat, not pay for a dorm. I don’t know your plans after your summer session but try this: Move in with me. Use your GI Bill and enroll for classes. You can transfer to a closer National Guard unit, can’t you? And you can make honest money giving guitar and photography lessons at the store; it has a darkroom and studio space.”
She squeezed me. I drove one-handed, squeezed her in return, and tried to keep my mind cool. I had roughly expected an offer like this, and had considered options. I did not want to hurt her.
I squeezed again. “Thanks, but…” She shivered.
“If I move in with you, it’s your place, your rules, and you’ll bring in all the friends you want. I might feel… overwhelmed.”
“Greg, lover, we can work it out. I can be me and you can be you. We can set up—”
“There’s something else,” I interrupted. “Except for you…” I gave her another squeeze “…and a very few friends, my life has me totally wrung-out. I need major changes, and elsewhere. My Guard obligation is almost done and I don’t want to extend. I’ve done a lot of research and I think I’ll do well in San Miguel de Allende, down in Guanajuato state, Mexico. The American Institute there has a renowned photo-arts program, I can use my GI Bill, and living costs are pretty cheap. I picked up a funny accent from my Cuban refugee Spanish instructor but I can probably be understood.”
She shivered more and clutched me tight. I continued.
“I’m going to skip the summer session here. I can challenge a couple more courses and get the credits for my Associate’s degree. You can keep the house till you head for Westwood.”
She sniffled, and stifled tears.
“I didn’t think we’d be together past the summer. I told you that when I moved in. But I didn’t expect it so soon. And I hoped…” She sat up. “Does this Institute have a good music program? I could use more orchestral training. Can I come with you?”
I had not expected this response but I had answers. A partial answer, anyway. And questions.
“Yeah, I think I read of a conservatory in San Miguel. And it’d be great to have you there. But what about your scholarship, and your family business, and friends? Are you ready to give up all that?”
“Fuck all that!” She was intense. “No, wait… business isn’t really my passion, just something I understand. Music is my life. Friends and family, well, we can visit back and forth. I’ll need to work on my oral Español; I’m halfway literate. And I can see if my scholarship is transferable. If it isn’t, I can persuade Dad to front me tuition and living money. Renting-out the Westwood apartment could cover that, so no loss.”
I almost heard microeconomics wheels turn in her head then.
“Greg. Lover. Partner. I want to be with you, in your life, in your heart. In your left ventricle, anyway.” She giggled.
“No clawing while you’re in there, please. It gets messy.” I put on a grim expression. She giggled again. I snorted.
“But really, lover; you really are the best. Let me see what you found on San Miguel so I can work out time and money details, okay? And when do you plan to go? Do you have things lined up, like for enrolling and living?”
She rubbed my thigh; I sensed attempted persuasion. I resisted distraction, and stayed on the road. We were nearly home. This was no time to auger into the desert landscape.
“I’d figured to leave at the end of the month, that’s just a couple of weeks. Should have my school paperwork done by then, my degree in hand, my application in at the Institute, and I know where to find rentals. I have a deal with a guy to swap some excess stuff and a little money for a roomy camper shell, lots more secure than a tarp on the back here. Yeah, two weeks, all packed up, and I’ll be ready to roll.”
“I won’t have a lot to take, lover, but if you run out of space, we can store stuff with my family. I can get a truck rack for hauling my motorbike and your ten-speed. We can do this!”
Her voice wobbled. “If you want me.”
I pulled into the rough driveway. We were home. I looked into her nervous azure eyes and remembered when she had asked to live with me.
“Got another bribe for me, miz Paige?” I asked deadpan.
“You fucker!” she laughed. “How about a 4×5 Linhof folding field camera? Oh, you’ll want a better tripod, too. You drive a hard bargain… as well as a clean old truck. Done!”
She held my hand to her rather nice breast and grabbed my cock through my shorts. My lips found hers for a long moment till I gently pushed us apart.
“Let’s get you cleaned and dressed and to the store before it’s too late. I’ll bring my San Miguel notes along; we can go over those when business is slow. C’mon now; tempus fucking fugit, daylight is burning.”
We showered but did not fuck, not now. We would have plenty of time for that, as long as we could tolerate each other. I foresaw a long, surprising path of discovery.
But I wondered about celebrating International Nude Day in Mexico. So much to learn…
.
===== Epilog =====
The Linhof camera was a beauty! Paige stayed pretty cute, too.
Events transpired.
We packed everything vital in the truck, jam-packed. We kissed and fucked friends and family goodbye. Well, no kin-fucking.
We reached San Miguel de Allende with no trouble, even at state-border military checkpoints. (Pro tip: Leave unclean laundry atop your luggage. Troops hate searching through gringos’ undies.)
We found reasonable quarters where we could suntan naked in the walled courtyard. This rented casita had space for a darkroom and music rehearsal. This was a plus! We learned that many Nude Days were indeed celebrated in discreet private courtyards.
I had left the Guard just in time. Soon after, my old unit was sent long-term to the sandbox. I was happy to be elsewhere.
And we learned to accept each other’s foibles and new friends. These were good years.
THE END?
=====
Author’s note: This fiction (much composed on a little Android tablet) is copyright © 2021 by Hypoxia Smurf so don’t steal it. No follow-ups are planned but you never can tell. Constructive comments are always welcomed. If you enjoyed this, join the 1%ers and VOTE, dammit!