Trip To Self

Posted: October 22nd, 2009 | Author: Jaime | Filed under: Hardcore Stories | Tags: Hardcore, Story |

“AUTHORS NOTE: This story was written while deployed overseas, and prior to the horrible events of Katrina, which is why New Orleans is portrayed the way it is. Keep the people of the Gulf coast in your thoughts, prayers, and givings.”

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“Where are you?”

“Texas.”

“That’s a bit vague, isn’t it?”

“Probably about seventy miles short of San Antonio. Going to see the Alamo.”

“You aren’t really going to see the Alamo, are you?” Mothers are not very good at hiding concern in their voice. Or maybe they just don’t try. She could never really tell with her mother. They were not what one might call close. Which was one of many factors leading to her current situation, or adventure, as she preferred to think of it.

“When am I going to hear from you again?”

“I don’t know. If I find anything cool in Antonio, I’ll give you a call.”

“Ok. Be careful. Don’t forget what is going on back here.”

“Ok. I won’t. Later.” She hung up, and stepped out of the small booth, looking down the length of the dinner to the table she had left a couple of minutes ago, finding the man sitting opposite her bag, sipping his coffee.

He was just over six feet, solidly built with firmness and muscle in all the right places, his hair cut just a bit to short, his face constantly caught in a five o’clock shadow that seemed to show ten minutes after he shaved. The hands cradling the coffee mug were massive shovels, and the calluses on them each had their own stories to tell. She wanted to hear them, but he was not telling.

So she just slid into her seat again, flashed him a smile, and dug into the plate that had appeared in her absence.

“Family okay?”

“Yeah. Still worried about me.”

“Families tend to do that.” He looked out the window, then placed the cup down, and picked up the map again. “Ever been to San Antonio?”

She shook her head, and he laughed. “Me neither. Which is why I wanted to come.” He had said the same thing about most of New Mexico and Arizona, the state they had meet up in. “So we have to hit the Alamo, and maybe one or two of these museums.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, what do you want to do?”

“I’m along for the ride.”

He looked at his traveling companion for a second, considering her words. They had linked up in Phoenix, during one of the rare rainstorms that occasionally give life to the dust city. She had been standing on the corner, soaked to the bone, considering her next move, the motel she had approached booked solid over some stupid convention. He had approached her, and she had slept in his bed while he rolled around on the floor.

At the time, he had been pretty drunk, and she figured she could fight him off with mace and her taser if he got crazy. But he had no such ambitions. Instead they awoke the next day, and said hi over breakfast. He was surprised to see that the woman who had looked like a drowned rat the night before was actually a blond haired, green-eyed little hottie. Her tanned skin belied her east coast origins, and the nicely formed body told him that she was somebody who was not used to the streets. She had come out here on her own volitions, and was wandering the southwest for her own reasons, reasons he did not ask about. She did not ask his, and so they traveled together in a kind of mutual peace, enjoying each other’s company and the beautiful country they both loved.

Over the last ten days things had come out about both of them, but neither had asked anything more then what the other revealed, content to let whatever happened happen. They shared the amount of tension filled moments that were bound to occur, but other then her hugging him tight as they rode his massive hog across the rolling roads, or dancing at night in some dive bar, they never had anything that could be called intimacy.

“I intend to end up down into Florida, the keys.”

“Sounds good.”

“Ok then.” He dropped a twenty on the table, and they rose, heading outside. He watched as she secured the saddlebags on the bike, one of the first things he had taught her, again admiring her beautiful form as she worked. The lack of sexual relations between them was not due to any lack of desire on his part, but more out of a lack of courage. If he made a move, his lovely traveling companion might depart the holding pattern, and he did not think that temporary gratification was worth ruining what they were sharing.

They both slipped on their sunglasses and helmets, and then climbed on, and he fired up the Harley. Minutes later they were on the interstate, blowing into San Antonio, and heading straight downtown for the famous Texan holdout.

They spent the afternoon exploring the historic downtown and the riverfront, looking for the entire world like a traveling couple, wandering around, taking pictures with disposable cameras, laughing, eating at one of the small diners, and finally pointing themselves east, and heading out of town. They almost never stayed in the big cities, they cost too much. Instead they would head out into the wastelands again, and see how far they could push it.

Tonight they made it until about eleven, when he felt the familiar signs of heaviness in his eyes, and pulled over into the parking lot of the first hotel they came to, a Holiday Inn tonight.

“I got this one.” Alexis hopped of the back of the bike, and walked inside, trying to shake her legs out. She was a cute little bow legged thing, he thought to himself.

The place had a pool, so they dropped in for a dip to rinse the dust off, then traded turns in the shower, with him going first while she ordered room service. He stepped out just as the waiter dropped of their food, and he watched her dig into the massive sandwich she had ordered for them to split. They shared a lot of food, neither of them big eaters.

Dropping onto one of the two beds in the room, he continued to watch her eat as he dried himself, then dropped the towel and slipped back into his boxers.

“You know, the most modest you are not.”

“I almost take that as a compliment from the woman that prances around the room every morning in her thong and bra.” Chris smiled at her, and she frowned.

“At least I’m dressed.”

“Let’s clarify dressed. Underwear that lets your ass hang out, and makes it very clear to me that you spend at least some portion of your time in the bathroom either shaving or plucking down there, is not considered dressed.”

“You telling me I need new undies?”

“I’m saying that fair is fair. But if it bothers you, I’ll stop.”

She smiled at him, wiping the crumbs from her lips. No, it did not bother her. He was a damn good looking specimen of man, with a chiseled body and powerful hands and shoulders, dark eyes that seemed to constantly be surveying the world around him, evaluating, studying, learning.

“Where is Mrs. Chris at?” It was a question she had wanted to ask for a while, and the sudden courage surprised her when the words flew out of her mouth.

“Six feet under.” It was apparent that the answer pained him, and he laid down on the bed, food forgotten, eyes closed.

“Where is Mr. Alexis?”

“Hanging out back home, I guess.”

He rolled his head towards her, eyes open again. So there was somebody else. Good to know. Wrapping up the rest of the food, she slipped into her own bed, hitting the light and ending the conversation.

When she awoke, he was gone. The second night they had been together, this had disturbed her greatly. But now she was used to it, so she just relaxed, and looked over at the clock. It was eight twenty, he would be back soon. Stretching out, she took the chance to get her thong and bra on, along with pants, before he got back.

The clicking in the door signaled his return, and she looked up from the complimentary USA Today to see his sweat drenched form walk through the door. She did not know how far he ran, or what else he did, but he looked as if he swam a couple of laps in sweat river, his eyes hollow and drained, his face flushed, breathing ragged and shallow.

He looked at her, shook his head with a soft smile, then stepped into the shower. That was not the usual routine. Looking down at her outfit, she wondered what was wrong now. She was wearing jeans, the fashionable kind that hung low on her hips. Maybe he did not approve of the fact that one could see her thong, in keeping with their discussion last night. Or maybe he was just not a fan of hot pink demi cup bras. She shrugged, and separated the business and politics sections of the paper for him, the only parts he ever seemed to read. And comics, but USAT lacked those.

He remerged, already dressed in his boxer this time, a relaxed smile on his face. Walking over to his bags, he cast another glance at her, and shook his head.

“What?”

“You know…you are very beautiful woman.”

She stopped for a second, surprised by the words. He had never said anything that might be considered flirty like that to her. She had gotten a haircut last week, and he had mentioned it. A new pair of sneakers two days ago, a mention of her small feet. But nothing that blatant.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” He picked up the rest of his gear and headed out the door, in search of breakfast.

Shaking her head, she followed, not sure what to make of the comment.

It was not until late that afternoon, outside Houston, that she finally built up the nerve to ask him, as he stared at the menu board at the rest stop trying to decide which low budget hotel chain they would go for today. They would be there two nights, so he was considering splurging on a Hampton Inn. Or maybe a Motel 6 downtown.

“What did you mean earlier?”

“When I said that weed should be legal?”

“No, silly, in the hotel room.”

He turned around and looked at her, letting his eyes rest on hers. “Just what I said.”

“You’ve never said that before.”

“First time for everything.”

“I’m sorry about what you said last night. Was she your wife?”

“Yeah.” He turned around again, and she walked up behind him, and after a second of hesitation, wrapped her arms around him, hugging him from behind, before stepping back again.

He turned around all the way now, and looked her in the eyes again. She could see his shoulders, arms, and hands flexing, relaxing, clenching, and it was clear that he was roiled internally, trying to make a decision.

“Why are you out here?” His voice was level, which she took as a good sign.

“Why are you out here?” She smiled back, and he cracked one himself.

“I asked first.”

“Where are we staying tonight?”

He shrugged, and walked back to the bike, making a big circle around her. She was not surprised when they pulled into the Motel 6 located downtown, not to far from the Astrodome, one of several things he had expressed interest in seeing. Her attempts at conversation over dinner failed, and she let him stew in silence, killing the lights after he passed into sleep.

The next day everything was back to normal, as they both settled back into their role of traveling companions, touching only when they had to, and joking about the things they each knew the other could laugh about. He had a whole list of things he wanted to see in Houston, and she let him run wild until lunch, when she brought up her one to do thing.

“I need a mall.”

“Shopping again?”

“Just a couple of small items.”

“Fine. Galleria this afternoon, after we hit Modern Art.”

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. For somebody who looked a lot like a wood crawler, he had a lot of interest and appreciation for fine art.

The mall was a massive, three story affair, with a lot of glass and steel. He always seemed uncomfortable in such environments, and today seemed no different. She could tell by the tension in his face, the way his eyes darted from place to place, the way that he seemed to move constantly, look around, and keep his eyes on the crowds that swirled around him.

She took one look at the map of the place, and then headed up the first escalator they came to, and around the bend. He followed behind her, trying to keep his eyes of the shapely ass ascending upwards in front of him. Without hesitation he walked into the Victoria Secrets store, looking at the bin she was digging in.

“I always thought that way they treat women’s underwear is undignified.”

“Well, since you complained about my thongs, I’m switching.” She pulled out a blue pair of the boy short type so popular now, and he rolled his eyes.

“That’s even worse. It hint’s, but it does not show.”

“You are crazy!”

“Listen. What is so wrong with cotton?”

“You want me to wear granny panties?”

He laughed out loud, causing several other customers to look their way. Finally he managed to control himself, wiping the tears from his eyes, and looked back at her. “Alexis, you can wear whatever you want. Just don’t use the shower after me.”

“That’s so gross.”

“You’d rather I do it when laying in the bed next to yours?”

“Don’t talk about it. I might have you know that I’m not skilled enough to pull it off in the shower, so I haven’t gotten off in a while.”

“You should do it while I’m in the shower.”

“What if I don’t finish in time?”

“I’ll take my time.” He smiled, and took the shorts out of her hand, holding them to her small waist. “These would look good on you.”

“Glad you could call.” Martins voice sounded a bit strained, and she wondered if he was worried about her. That would be odd. But not totally unexpected.

“How are things back there?”

“Kinda on hold, as you are out gallivanting around.”

“Is it my fault you decided to not go on your trip?”

“I didn’t think you would go!” He almost raised his voice, an unheard of occurrence in their time together.

Sighing, Alexis looked down the short hallway back to their table, where Chris was doing his best to demolish the Nacho’s before she got back. How unfair. “Listen, you knew that when I got done with school I was going to wander for a bit, wanted to see some things. I offered you to come with me, and you said no. I told you to go on your own, and you said no.”

“If you told me to sleep with another woman, I would say no, too.”

“That is totally different! I’m not sleeping with anybody.”

“Kissing?”

“If you don’t trust me, you can just say so.”

There was a pause, and she waved to him, trying to indicate for him to leave her some. He acted as if he didn’t see her, which added to her level of frustration. The waitress dropped off their two margaritas, and she could see him talking to her, then they both laughed. Was he flirting with her?

“Listen, ‘lexis.” She could hear him sigh, and knew he was trying to be grave. “I want you to come back. Please? Everything is set, all I need is you.”

“I’m not ready.”

“Please?”

“Why do you want to clip my wings?”

“Why do you want to run?”

“I have to go.” She went to hang up, but the frantic tone in his voice gave her pause.

“Please, I’m begging here, please. Come back. I mean, what the fuck are you doing out there?”

“Wandering around, seeing new things. I saw the State Capitol of Louisiana today.”

“You are in Baton Rouge?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you went to San Diego!”

“I did. I’ve put down some miles.”

“How are you getting around?”

“I’ve made friends.” That was stretching it a bit. Sure, she had talked to a bunch of people, but really, Chris was the only one. If one called what they had friendship.

“Seriously. What is going on?”

“Nothing. I’m just doing somewhat that I’ve always dreamed of. Give me my dream before I give you yours.”

“Sarah called.” He let the woman’s name hang out there, floating in the air like an evil specter between them.

“Is that supposed to mean something?” The waitress was back, sitting across from him in the booth, both laughing again. He had to be flirting! Was she jealous? She couldn’t be jealous! She was talking to her fiancé on the phone, for god’s sake!

“I’m just saying.”

“What are you saying?”

“Listen. I’m not going to wait forever.”

“You know what? Go to hell!” Slamming the phone into the receiver, she took a second to collect herself, breathing deep, before she walked back out to the booth. As she approached the woman stood, smiled her way, then touched Chris’s shoulder, and said something to him in a low voice, and walked off.

“You look mad. Not all quiet on the western front?” He pushed the nacho refill that had been dropped off on the last pass towards her, but she ignored it for a second, taking a strong pull of her Margarita through the straw sticking in the ice.

“I don’t want to talk about it. What’s up with you and the hired help?”

“Angela and I went to high school together.”

“What?” She stared at him across the table, not believe what she was hearing. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t really care. She married her high school sweet heart, buddy of mine. Apparently he joined the Air Force, and got stationed down here somewhere, so he got out, and is working as a cop now.”

“Where did you go to high school?”

“What happened with your family?”

They stared at each other for a second, then she crunched a chip with her teeth, breaking the spell. “Mr. Alexis is not happy that I’m out here wandering around.”

“He’s worried somebody else is sticking it in you.” He might as well have been talking about the color of the table; his voice was so dispassionate, not a question but a statement.

“Should he be?”

“Well, if I’m not, I don’t think anybody else is.”

“Do you want to?” Why did I just say that, she asked herself.

Thankfully, he did not answer right away, but took another sip of his drink, then looked down the aisle towards the front door, before looking back at her.

“There are not two men in this place that do not.”

“That is not what I asked.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Why don’t you ever do anything about it?”

He didn’t answer, just sat there, staring at the table. When the movement came through his body, it was sudden, the kind he got sometimes, propelling him off the bench, down the aisle, and out the door. She cursed under her breath, and then signaled the woman apparently named Angela. “Check please. And can we get our food to go?”

“Sure, honey.” She gave the younger woman a weary look, and Alexis reached out, grabbing her arm.

“You knew Chris, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…”

“What happened to his wife?”

Angela looked down at the woman, considering her with a level eye. Finally she slipped into the booth across from her, where Chris had been seated seconds ago.

“Chris meet Dora in the army. They got married way too early, but apparently they loved each other. Well, his team went out west to do some mountain training or something, only that the entire western half of the country was on fire with wild fires. So they came back early. And guess what?”

“She was at home with somebody else.”

“There were two guys. They basically moved in whenever he left, which was often. They had been making home porn in his place, all kinds of disgusting things. You’d be amazed what goes on aboard some of those bases. Anyways, massive argument. He put one guys through the dry wall. Dora and the other guy leave. They made it six miles down the road.”

“What happened?”

“Eighteen wheeler. Driver had been rolling for twenty hours, coming back empty to the cotton fields, fell asleep behind the wheel, woke up when he hit a bump or something. That bump was her Civic.”

Alexis sat back. She wondered what that felt like. To find the woman you love in bed with not only one guy, but two. That is super anger, the deepest kind of emotional rage possible. And then that woman dies. Does your love overwhelm your hate? Or does it kill off the entire emotional range?

When she got back to the motel room, he was already asleep. The half empty bottle of Jack told her why, so she made sure that he was breathing, put his food in the small fridge, and cleaned up a bit before slipping into her own bed, and killing the lights.

ts.

“You happy?” Her dad had to be in a tree stand, why else would there be a bird chirping super loud in his ear?

“I don’t know. I am, but the whole thing with Martin is in the back of my mind.”

“What, that he does not want you out there?”

“He mentioned his ex girlfriend the other day.”

“Fuck him. If he loves you, he’ll wait. If you love him, you’ll come back to him.”

“That’s the thing, I’m not sure if I do or not.”

“Honey, I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve lived my life by two rules, you know that. I make your mother happy, and I laugh with my kids. If it does not support those two goals, it ain’t happening.”

She sighed. She knew that. Which was why she had five siblings. Her parents were truly free spirits. Being four out of six was not necessarily an enviable position, being neither in the upper half, older, nor being the baby. Damn it!

“Dad, I need help here.”

“Honey! Hangout! Have some fun. Shit, dance on a pole! Once you are married, things are different. Look before you leap, look before you leap.”

“Thanks.” She hung up, shaking her head.

There was stirring in the other bed, and she watched as he rolled out of the rack, and into the bathroom. He was naked under the sheets, and she admired his form from behind. He did not close the door, the fan in the bathroom was broke, so she got to watch him brush his teeth, and climb into the shower.

Walking over to her backpack, she pulled out her brush, and sat back down on the bed. She had already showered before calling home, trying to decide what she would do next. Go home? Keep going out here? Confused was not the word for it.

Movement caught her eye, and she looked back into the bathroom. Steam was slowly obscuring her vision, but even through the opaque shower curtain, it was clear what was going on in there. Fascinated, she watched him pump himself, his hand clasped around the large shaft. Her breath caught as his body seemed to push forward, and he ejaculated into the drain. He shook a couple of times, then she watched as he washed himself, and stepped out, toweling off. His cock hung semi-rigid between his legs, large balls swaying back and forth.

Tearing her eyes away, she packed her bag, before lying back down on the bed.

“Sorry about last night.” His voice was back to its deep self, not the strained pitch it acquired when he was upset or pissed.

“I shouldn’t have asked. I got your food in the fridge.”

“Thanks.” She heard the door open, close, and then the Styrofoam, before dug in. “It is not that I don’t want you. But I like what we have going. I enjoy the company. And I don’t want it to end.”

“How long have you been wandering America?”

“Two months.”

“Alone?”

“Until you came along.”

They returned to their silence, interrupted by the noises of him moving food around and eating. He was a noisy eater, she had noticed. Rolling over, she looked at him, still dressed in his towel, hair wet, face enjoying a few moments of hairlessness.

“I’m engaged to be married.”

“I figured as much.”

“I’m not sure if it was the right thing.”

“That why you are out here?”

“Well, partially. I graduated college in December. Took three months off, worked some jobs, trying to decide what to do next. Martin and I are from the same town, dated all through college. He is ready to settle down. So he asked. I said yes. Why not? He’s a nice guy, I guess I love him, so whatever. But I’ve always wanted to just wander through the southwest, just go out and see things. So I told him that I had to go first. Told him to do the same thing. He looked at me like I was crazy.”

She laughed, remembering the conversation. “Well, I’m out here, and he said he would wait. But I think his patience is wearing thin.”

“You still want to get married?”

“I don’t know.”

“I was married. Didn’t like it.” He dumped the container in the trash, stretched, and then got dressed. “New Orleans next?”

“You read my mind.”

It was raining when they got to the big easy, slowing down their trip some. Unlike most other places, he had called ahead, and pulled into the garage of the Omni knowing fully well that they had a room. She dashed into the bathroom to dry off, and he was waiting for her when she came out.

They ascended upwards in the elevator in silence, and he opened the door for her, letting her in first.

“Thank you, young man.”

“I’m older then I look.”

“How old are you?”

“What’s with all the questions lately?” But there was no malice in his words, as he dropped his bag on the bed, and stepped into the bathroom. She heard him washing his hands, and then he came back out.

“I’ve actually been here before, I know a great place to eat down the road.”

“Trying to drag me back into the rain?”

“Yeah, put on a white t-shirt.”

She laughed, but then she did it. Her bra was the matching white color, and he looked at her, slowly nodding.

“I’m not going to do it.”

“Why not?”

“You are going to marry somebody else. It would be wrong.”

She nodded slowly. “I saw you masturbate in the shower earlier.”

“I told you I did.”

“What do you think when you do it?”

“You know what I’m thinking. You look innocent, but I bet you were a party girl in college.”

She laughed, wondering how he had read her mind. He had seen her two tattoos, the one a small heart right above her butt, the other her sorority letters on her right hip, and asked about them when they had first started traveling together. No surprising him there.

“A girl can try.”

“Yes, you can. And maybe we should work out a signal, in case one of us meets somebody, and needs the room to themselves.”

“I won’t bring anybody else home.”

“Well, then we don’t need a signal.”

She changed, insisting in dressing up if he was taking her to something better then their usual fast food or highway grease fare, and so they ended up walking through the rain under his jacket, him holding her body close, trying to shield her from the falling water. They passed several clubs, turned the corner, and he pushed her inside.

The light was dim, and it took her a second to adjust her eyes, as he pushed past her to the greeter. Speaking in a low voice, he nodded for her to follow, walking through the main dining room, up a set of stairs, and to an unmarked door. Pushing it open, he stepped into a smaller, much more intimate, and much nicer looking room.

Pulling out her chair, he indicated for her to sit, and she did. “You always act like this in places you’ve been before?”

“Sometimes.” A waiter was with them shortly, and he ordered for both of them, another new experience.

“You are in full on date mode, aren’t you?”

“I know what’s good here.”

“Tell yourself what you must.”

Dinner was served, and they both relaxed, the bottles of beer lining up on the table probably helping. They were on desert when a large man with a full beard approached the table. Chris rose, and the two embraced, the other man pulling up a chair to sit down.

“I see you are traveling in style these days.”

“Another rainy night, this one in Phoenix.” Chris introduced Alexis and the man named Robert. “We were in the Army together.”

“Barely.” They both laughed at that, even though she did not get it.

“What did you guys do in the army?”

“Not a whole lot.” They both laughed again, and she let it go.

The two of them talked of people she did not know, who had married, who had babies, who was still in, speaking of units and places she had never heard of. Military people might as well speak another language; to her it was all Greek, with the acronyms, the abbreviations, and the nicknames for everything.

Finally Robert had to go check on the rest of the restaurant, and Chris rose to leave, pulling her with him. “What we doing tonight?”

“I saw something on the way out here.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ll show ya.”

They walked back out, and headed a bit further up the street. The rain had stopped, and the French Quarter had returned to its normal self, New Orleans natural mugginess in full effect, the recent rain only adding to the humidity as throngs of people pushed this and that way.

They came to one of a million flashing neon signs, and she pointed to it. He raised a single eyebrow, but she smiled, and pulled him inside. Two massive bouncers sat inside the small anteroom, and one of them pointed to the sign on the wall indicating the cover charges. Chris wanted to protest the prices, but she was way ahead of him.

“I’m here for the amateur contest.”

Non-pointer pulled out a clipboard, and handed her what looked like a release form. She pulled back behind Chris, reading the document to herself. Finally he heard pen scratch paper, and she handed it over.

“Ok. You guys can go in. They will call for all the contestants in about thirty minutes. Two drink minimum for those going in with contestants.”

“No problem. You guys want anything?” Apparently his sense of humor was not appreciated, so he shrugged, and followed her in.

He had been inside a wide variety of strip clubs, all over the United States and the world. This one was probably the smallest, at least on ground level. Looking up, he counted at least three stories he could see. It was damn dark, hard to tell. Going for a very New Orleans, very Ann Rice kind of theme, he thought. Unlike other such skin joints, the light used on the stage was not pure white, but a soft kind of blue, with some flashes of red and green. He could see stages up above him, along with girls in four cages suspended from the ceiling. That was a new one. A large stage, and two smaller ones, along with a bar and a sitting area in the center of it all took up this floor. He could see stairs to his right leading to a door marked VIP, and then steps leading up to the other floors and their bars and stages.

Following her to the bar, he ordered two long island ice tea’s, handed her one, then plopped himself onto the high barstool, pulling her between his legs.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have always wanted to.”

“You’ve always wanted to dance in a strip club?”

“Yes.”

“You probably read Jenna’s Jameson’s biography, and thought it was a great story.”

“I don’t know about great, but interesting. My dad would go to a strip club once a week when I was growing up, him and all his buddies. He took me a couple of times. I am probably one of a few girls growing up back home whose father said being a stripper is a respectable profession. Whenever I was low on money in college, he would tell me to swing from a pole. But I never did.”

He shook his head, taking a sip from his drink. “Ok. You know how to dance?”

“Come on, we’ve danced before.”

“I’m talking about the pole.”

“Why, you got pointers.”

“I’ve dated a stripper in my time. And I climbed one at my bachelor party.” Happier times, he reminded himself.

“Ok. What can you tell me?”

“Motion. See the girl on stage over there?” He pointed to the main stage. “She’s focusing on one guy, trying to make money. That’ll work for her, but you are trying to please everybody in the joint to win the pool. Use the entire stage, like a triangle.”

“A triangle?”

“Yeah. One point is the pole. We’ll get to that in a minute. The other two are forward on the stage. Move one, to two, to three, back to one.”

“Ok.”

He pulled her closer, turning her between his legs, and pointed up to another stage. “Like that one. See how she’s moving around?” He waited for her to move, feeling her moving with the music. She had rhythm, which would help.

“Ok, next. The pole. I’ve seen you do pull ups, you got pretty strong arms, that gives you an advantage. Like the one over there, you need to get as high as possible. That gives you more pole to work with.”

She smiled to herself. She might have an ace there. Nodding again, she listened to his other hints, pointers, and tips, then placed her drink in his hand when they called for all the competitors to come to the back of the bar. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be watching.”

“I hope so.”

Chris placed both drinks on the bar, and leaned back in his seat to watch. The lights got a bit brighter for a second, as the DJ announced the amateur night contest, explaining how judging would take place after every round of three girls by volume of applause. He smiled to himself. He might have something there.

Apparently they had twelve girls competing, and they named each of them. Some competed under their own names, others had hastily adopted stripper names. Alexis stayed true to her name, and she was in round number three.

He watched the eight girls before her, judging how things might go for her. Each girl only got one song, roughly three minutes of performance time. The first set had two real contenders, and it was a hard choice which one to go for. In the end, the one that had the bigger tits won out. Or maybe it was the fact that she had taken her shirt off.

The next round was not as stacked with talent, and one girl barely took her clothes off. She was a good dancer thought, but it was a stripping contest. So she was out, leaving a weak stripper to advance. But this girl had no compulsion about taking it off and shaking what her mother gave her.

Finally it was her turn, and he watched as she mounted the stage. She walked straight to the pole as the music started, swaying her body and hips in the exaggerated motions he had told her about, then pulled herself to the top.

There was a lot they did not know about each other. One of the things he did not know about her was that she had ridden horses all her life, and that her legs had the strength to hold herself upright on the back of one for hours. So suddenly she flipped around, legs squeezing the pole, her shirt dropping to the ground below to rousing applause. Slowly one leg extended out, flipping her skirt over and displaying her white thong. His breath caught as she slowly slipped down, planting her hands on the floor, and flipping herself over. That was a practiced move.

Her body rolled to the music as she moved in the triangle he had told her about, toying with the entire stage. She did not climb back up the pole, but used it to lean against, her bra falling away as she did so, her breasts standing up to rousing applause.

She passed into the next round with ease, where she was paired against the girl from the last set, providing a bit more challenge then the two she had gone against earlier. But she passed again, displaying her ability to take of her clothes while sitting on the floor in a full split to a roaring crowd. Only her and the girl with big tits remained.

There was a short break, and she came out to see him, sliding between his legs again. He embraced her, not really sure why, and handed her a glass of water he had ordered, watching her gulp it down.

“I didn’t know you could do all that.”

“A lot you don’t know.” She left the double meaning out there, but he didn’t bite.

“Go get ‘em.” He smiled at her, and she smiled back, then mounted the stage again.

She started by swinging around the pole this time, flashing everybody in the place, before she climbed back up. This time she stayed right side up, grabbing the pole and spreading her legs. It looked as if she was fucking the massive chrome shaft, sliding down it slowly in rhythmic motions. At the bottom she rolled backwards, and came up without her skirt, leading to wild cheering. He was not sure how she had pulled that off past her high-heeled boots.

Slowly she moved through the triangle, dropping first her shirt then her bra. Grabbing the pole again, she walked her hands down backwards, ending in a bridge, then pushed up into a handstand, and walked out, her naked spread legs sliding along the chrome again as she crawled across the floor towards the front row. He could see her eyes, could see how her mouth was hanging half open, inviting, her fingers motioning the men sitting close forward.

The song ended, and she pulled back, breaking the spell. The crowed erupted as she waved, picking up her clothes and the money that had been thrown on stage, smiling at everybody, disappearing behind the privacy barrier. She was back at his side two minutes later, as the DJ announced that all the competitors should come back to the main stage. He gave her thumbs up, letting her grab a sip of her drink before she strode back to her position.

They started with number three, and then had all the girls do a little walk around the stage before announcing the winner. He already knew it would be her, and when she started screaming and jumping up and down, he only smiled. Apparently the winner was paid in cash, and so she was back by his chair with a wad of bills.

“What did you think?”

“You are pretty good at that whole thing.”

“Career opportunities.” They both laughed, and she stuffed the money in the bra she was wearing again. “The guy that runs the place offered me a job when I got done with my last routine. Says strippers can make like a grand a night.”

“I knew a couple making more then that.”

“Really?”

“Depends on where you are doing it. You could do well in it out here.”

She smiled, and then wrapped her arms around him, kissing him full on the lips. He pulled back slightly, but she moved with him, kissing him again.

“Thank you.” Slowly she pulled back, the smile on her face full of happiness.

“For what?”

“Letting me do that.”

“I didn’t let you do it, you decided to do it.”

Alexis smiled, and waved for another drink. “You are the first man I’ve ever been with that has not tried to control my life.”

“You are not with me.” He felt emotional talk coming on, and his stomach was tightening up.

“Yes, I am. Not in the way that we are both used to it, but we are running around together. This is a team effort.” She smiled, and ordered him another drink. “I did it for you.”

“I was afraid you would say that.”

“And you encouraged it.”

“I did not mean to, by no action or word of mine.” He was not sure where she got the idea that he had been for this, and he needed to squash it. Fast.

“Chris…you are a strange, strange man. Very different from what you find back home. Maybe that is why you are so interesting.”

“Don’t get overtly attracted to what is different. In the long run you want shared interest and attitudes, not friction and opposition.”

“You read that in a book?”

“Online.” He finished his first drink, and picked up the second one she had ordered, sipping from it. “I’m not going to do it.” He knew she was trying to trap him, trying to strip for him, entice him with her wonderful lips, with that incredible kiss, with her perfect body, with the alcohol. His defenses were crumbling, and his cock was rising. He did not know how long he could hold out.

“Why not?” Frustration played large in her voice now

“I told you why.”

“I want it.”

“You are old enough for you wants not to hurt you.” He stopped as a man approached, leaning down and whispering in her ear. The smile on her face was smug and self satisfied, and he shook his head. Standing, he watched the guy back up a bit, the closeness to another man making him uncomfortable.

With his head Chris indicated the door, and after a second of hesitation, she got up and took his hand into hers. They walked back out into the slight sprinkle, and walked back to the hotel in silence. It was not until they were back in the room that she finally managed to look him in the eye.

“Why did you take me out of there?”

“You were about to do something stupid.”

“How do you know?” And again she wondered how he read her mind.

“Good judge of people.” He pulled open the hotel bar, and poured both of them a drink. “Alexis…you are such a beautiful, beautiful young woman. Why are you wandering around out here with me?”

“I guess I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of going home and being stuck with a guy that does not excite you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I know the feeling. I had the chance to marry the greatest woman ever, but I wanted to run around the world, ended up marrying the wrong one, and then it all went to shit.”

She was stunned by his outburst. It was the most he had ever revealed about himself in any one sentence, and she could not believe that he was trying to help her with anecdotes from his life. “She…was not the love of your life.”

“Far from it. A woman named Mary Sullivan was. Mary was perfect in every way. And she wanted to marry me. But I said no, said I had to explore the world, join the army, be all that I can be. So she married Norman Stadler. Good guy. Probably the perfect guy for her. They have four kids now, a big house, two nice cars, and a boat. Dora was a fellow soldier, stuck in the shit hole that was Ft Bragg, dancing on the side down at the Pet Shop. I beat the hell out of some guy that grabbed her one night, and that was the beginning of our relationship. Which consisted of a lot of fighting, a lot of sex in all kinds of places, and other things I don’t even want to remember. Until it all ended.”

She nodded, watching him pace back and forth. Stepping back over to the mini-bar, he pulled out three of the mini-bottles of Jack, holding them in one hand, cracking all the tops at once. With one smooth motion he downed them, reaching for three more.

“NO…”

But he was faster than that, evading her hand, and slamming three more. It took a second for the alcohol to hit his system, working its way through his stomach and into the blood stream. But when it hit, she could see it in his eyes, his body slowly crawling backwards on the bed. “You don’t want to be with me, honey. You don’t want this.”

“Yes, yes I do.”

“Sweetie, there is a man that loves you waiting for you.”

“I don’t love him.”

But he did not hear that. He was snoring loudly, sprawled on top of the sheets. Shaking her head, she undressed, sliding into her bed. What a strange, strange man.

The next morning, she awoke to find him gone again. Stretching, she lay in bed, thinking about what had happened the night before, until she heard the door clicking, and his sweat covered form appeared in the hallway.

“You ok?” Rolling over, she looked at him as he pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Yeah. Sorry about yesterday.”

“Don’t be. You got spots you want to hit today?”

“Yeah.”

They walked through the city the way they had hit every other city, talking and laughing, taking pictures of everything, enjoying the local food and microbrews, talking to the locals, enjoying themselves. But they could both tell that something had changed the night before, and finally they admitted to it, holding hands as they walked down the river walk.

“I won’t push it anymore.” She smiled at him, squeezing his hand, and he nodded.

“When is the wedding?”

“Didn’t set a date yet. Apparently he has everything set up, I just need to show up.”

“Am I invited?”

“Maybe that’s what I’ll do. Buy a dress, and show up on your Harley, cruising up to the church. Martin would love that.”

“Martin the Mr. Alexis to be?”

“Yeah.” She looked away, and pulled him into a bathing suit store. “Come on, let’s look at some stuff.”

He did not ask anymore about her future marriage plans, instead helping her pick out a new bikini. She did not model it for him, which he was secretly thankful for, but also disappointed in. She was back to her relaxed happy self, and he was glad for it.

“By the way…I’m from Pennsylvania.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“I know Fort Bragg is in North Carolina, so I figured it was only fair.”

“I’m not from Carolina.”

“Still.”

“Ok. I’m from Florida.”

The sun was shining down bright and brilliant, the way it only does in Florida, the ocean to their right, the asphalt blistering with heat, her hair playing in the wind as she leaned back on the hog, feeling her skin heat up.

They had worked out a series of signals over time, not wanting to yell into the wind, and so she tapped his shoulder twice, a bit harder then she thought necessary, and he pulled over at the rest stop coming up, coming to a stop two spots down from the orange colored building that served as the focal point.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to make a call real quick. I was supposed to call yesterday, but I forgot.”

“Don’t take all day.” He shook his head as she stuck her tongue out at him, and dashed into the building.

Climbing off the bike himself, he stretched, pulling a rag out of one of the saddlebags, and wiping the bugs off the front fender, lights, and along the tank. He had swallowed at least one today, but he considered that an occupational hazard. Walking over to the soda machines, he bought two bottles of Gatorade, and took a seat in the shade, watching the cars pull into the parking lot.

Pulling her phone card out of her wallet, she dialed the number by memory, looking at the card just for confirmation. The phone number was a permanent part of her memory as well, so she dialed it without problem, listening to the rings in her ear, and counting. She got to four before somebody answered.

“Hello?” But it was not the voice she had expected. This was a female voice.

“Hello?” Her own voice startled her, but her mind was seemingly in automatic.

“Hello?” The female voice again, then a voice in the background, and the phone seemed to be changing hands. Finally his voice pulled through. “Hello?”

“Who’s that?”

“That was Sarah. You ok, you didn’t call yesterday?”

“What is she doing over there?”

“Well, you aren’t here.” There was a calmness to him that put the writing on the wall. She swallowed for a second, steadying herself, then asked the obvious question.

“What’s going on?”

There was a pause, and she could hear him walking around. There was a scraping noise, and then she knew he was on his porch. Hearing the nature sounds all of a sudden will do that. “Alexis, I really want to marry you. But you are not here. Where are you, baby? Why are you running away?”

“I just need some time…”

“I want to marry you, are you hearing me? That is not something you put off forever.” The calmness was gone, replaced by what she knew to be anger. “Damn it, how long do I have to wait? You kept me waiting forever in college to date you, running around with all these other guys. You kept me waiting forever to give it up, damn near cheating on me all over the place, and yet I stayed. And now somebody else enters the show. A woman…”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” Her voice almost cracked, but she managed to control it.

“I want to move on in life. Are you part of the show, or not? Do you love me, or not?” Still the anger in his voice, still the emotion that was so rare in Martin.

It was time to be honest. So she took a deep breath, and squared herself with the world. Looking back across the last four years, she could feel the cold breath of truth. He had wanted to date her when they attended the same High School, but she had been to busy with other guys. So then came college.

And again, he pursued her. She had smiled, toyed, played hard to get as she played with more interesting upper classmen. But eventually you go for steady and solid, so she had ended up with Martin. And yes, she had not given it up easy to him. They had at the time both been dating around a bit, and there were other men in her life that knew what they were doing in bed. But finally they had become exclusive, and he had been content to keep it that way. It was her that would run away from time to time, and then come back to him. Was this the same thing, just on a bigger scale?

“I am not ready to get married. I love you, but I do not think we love each other the same way.”

“I will not wait.”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“So am I.” There was a pause, and she could hear him trying to steady his breath. “Sorry.” The phone died in her hand, and she stared at it, before slowly placing it in the cradle. Looking around, she walked into the bathroom, finding the stall all the way in the back empty. She cried silently, but all the same.

Her eyes were red when she came out, and he could tell the signs of recent crying. Without saying anything he took her in his arms, cradling the young woman up close, lifting her onto his lap, letting her unleash her tears again, softly rocking her as she quietly cried into his t-shirt.

Finally she stopped shedding tears, and he wiped her hair out of her face, looking down into big eyes. “He break up with you?”

“Yeah. He didn’t want to wait.”

“What a foolish man. I would wait.”

“Would you?”

“Yes. Don’t worry about him. I’m sure I can find you another place to dance. Tampa?”

“Tampa.”

He almost had a nose for strip clubs, and they found one not to far from the Motel he chose for the night. This time she prepared, spending some time wandering around an adult toy store putting together her outfit with proper heels and a short skirt, and stretching in the room before they rode down to the skin joint.

He did not drink this time, just sat and watched, and they had worked out subtle signals to pass back and forth. She won this one hands down, as well, and walked out with another thousand dollars, dropping onto her bed after they ordered pizza to count the money that enthusiastic crowd members had thrown on the stage. “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever made that much money, that fast.”

“If you want to continue your streak, we’ll have to stick to major cities. In smaller towns, you’ll be lucky to pull two hundred in prize, and probably less in throw money.”

She nodded, separating the money into two neat stacks. Pulling out her wallet, she slid all the twenties into a small zippered pouch, and the rest of the money into the main pouch, surveying her domain again. “Where are we going next?”

“I told you where I want to end up.”

“Well…can I go?”

He shrugged, not really sure how long this association could go on. She was not bound to another now, and his cock had been rock hard the entire time she had been in his lap earlier, and during her performance. The woman was a fox, there was no denying that, and there would come a time when his discipline would fail him, he knew there would. He could only hold on so long. “Sure. Come along.”

“Ok. Can we go shopping tomorrow?”

“Again?”

But this time she did not let him come, and he had to prowl the mall on his own, trying to keep himself interested. But he did not mind, the time alone did him well. Even though he was not a big fan of malls, he was a fan of people watching, which he did during this time, letting his mind wander, playing over what he could see in the future.

Alexis now had even less incentive to go home. The girl had apparently saved up a wad of cash during college to finance this little endeavor, and if she continued to swing around chrome, she would do all right. His own financial situation had been planned out and set up to support his own wanderings for a while. Sighing, he shook his head. He had no idea where this was going. To claim otherwise was self-deception. So he went in search of his travel companion, ready to get on the road again, ready to see where it would take him.

And so they headed south some more, rolling down the state roads that kept them close to the water, enjoying the sun until she had him stop again. He cursed her for it, but she knew he was only kidding, and told him it would be worth it.

“I bought something for you.”

“What?”

“Just hold on a minute.” Again she smiled, and ran into the bathroom.

These were the moments he regretted giving up tobacco, as he wiped the bike down, checked over the engine and chain as he did at least twice every day, thinking ahead. They could make Fort Myers easy, even having left this late. Tomorrow they could push to Miami, one day of hard riding, hang for a day maybe, let her do her thing once or twice, then head down into the Keys. He would be set there. It was his home.

“You like it?” Her voice tore him from his planning process, and he stood, turning around to look at her. When he did, his eyes almost popped out of his head.

She had kept the sunglasses, a pair of Oakley’s she said she had owned since being a lifeguard in high school. But the rest of her clothes were gone, replaced by a very small, very revealing, very attractive black bikini, paired with brown leather chaps to protect her legs while riding. He realized that his jaw was open, and he forced it shut, trying not to stare at her tits to much, as he drank in her beautiful form, the tanned skin, the symmetric flow her hips and legs, her hair in the soft breeze.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m not another mans anymore.”

“I know.”

“You know what I’m doing.”

He tried to breathe, licking his lips, tried to force moisture into his bone-dry throat and mouth, tried to get his brain into gear. It all failed him. His mind was spinning in neutral, his eyes caught in a cycle of going from her flat stomach and beautiful legs up to her tits, to her soft smile, back down. He had to remind himself to breathe, and finally managed to tear his eyes away, staring down some guy sitting in his car with his eyes caught on the same sight.

“Come here.” He beckoned her forward, and watched her come. Her movements were slow and controlled, the same roll of her hips and legs that she used in the strip clubs, the same movements and motions that always got him so turned on. Without thinking about it he shrank back, his body sliding into his natural position sitting astride the bike.

She slipped between him and the handlebars, facing him, both of them breathing slow and controlled, both trying to keep control that was rapidly fleeing them, both trying to keep up the façade that was crumbling between them.

“I would let you fuck me, right here, right now, on this bike, if you wanted to.”

“I know you would.”

He kissed her. His arms closed around her, pulling her in close, bringing their bodies together, lips locked, tongues dancing, his hands roaming her body, squeezing her ass, her legs wrapping around his waist, hugging him close, time losing its meaning, the kiss becoming everything, breaking only when the air ran out.

Their eyes locked again, and he ran his fingers across her face, listening to her moan, feeling her hair, burying his nose in it, smelling it. Then he tasted her lips again, and she pulled him tight against herself, sinking back into the kiss.

“Let’s go, before I commit a crime in this parking lot.”

They made Fort Myers easy, finding a motel. He pulled right up to the door, then grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder, picking up the saddlebags, and carrying both inside. She had waited outside when he got the room, as was their custom, and she was surprised when there was only one bed. Pleasantly surprised.

He dropped the bags, kicked the door shut, and threw her on the bed. She rolled onto her back, and he was there, holding her down, kissing her, tasting her, pulling her tight. It turned into a wrestling match, both trying to undress the other, both trying to kiss every inch of the other.

But he was stronger, so he pinned her to the bed, kissing her all over, his body pressing into hers, the heat from them incredible, her wetness unbelievable.

“Yes…yes…take it, please, please take it!” Her voice was a raw whisper, and he bit her neck, tearing away the bikini top, his lips diving onto her tits as her legs wrapped around him. She moaned out as he sucked her nipples, his hands grabbing her ass again, squeezing it, massaging it as he nibbled and caressed her tits.

She reached down, feeling his hardness in his pants, squeezing it, pumping it, unzipping him and reaching in. He was massive, the shaft pulsing in her hands as she stroked him, trying to pull him into her pussy.

“No foreplay…just fuck me. Fuck me good!”

So he did. Reaching down, he pushed her bikini bottoms aside, and pushed into her. Her screams bounced around the room as his massive shaft filled her, pumping her with all the power his strong hips could build. There was nothing romantic about it, nothing that might be considered soft or loving. His arms wrapped around her as her legs did the same to him, pulling him deeper into her as he pushed in as far as he could.

The motions were out of sync, not the bodies of two people used to one another, a battle between two demanding, free spirits, yet a combination of two forces that wanted nothing more then to please one another, both of them not wanting to let the moment go, holding the other to hold on to themselves.

It was fast, it was hard, it was relentless. They were sweating, kissing, holding, biting, clawing, crying, screaming, fucking. Her whole body shook with orgasm, and then he threw his head back, screaming out loud, his cock pumping load after load of hot sperm into her. His body seemingly enclosed her, still rocking back and forth, still driving her higher and crazier.

Finally they separated, kissing and touching, fondling each other, rolling apart, sucking air, breathing hard. Both of their eyes were slightly unfocused, both of them trying to catch air, and then they were on top of each other again, kissing, licking, tasting.

She pushed away, stumbling into the bathroom, leaving her clothes along the way. She did not realize it, but he followed her, and as soon as he heard the toilet flush, he pushed into the bathroom, carrying her into the shower.

Now his tongue went to work, pushing her under the water, diving between her legs and eating her pussy out. She tried to stop him, but he was having none of that, having her sit on his face, legs over his shoulders, sucking her clit, nibbling it, sucking it, biting it, his hands all over her ass and tits, touching her face, expressing his desires to her.

She shook once, then again, again, and finally begged him to stop. He did, taking a break to wash her. She kept playing with his hard cock, then sank to her knees, and slid him into her lips. Up and down her hands worked, sliding him in and out of her mouth, using her teeth, nibbling, kissing, licking, slobbering all over the hard shaft.

It was something she did very well, and something she took the time to do right. It was a up down, in and out, toying with his balls, using her hand to pump the hard shaft, driving him straight up the walls. He had her stop, pulling her into his arms, kissing her hard.

Picking up her small frame, he pushed her against the tiles, sliding into her again. She cried out over the falling water as he took her again, fucking her hard against the wall. She begged for more, cried out his name, kissing him as he buried his face in her neck, biting her, her slender fingers tracing across his face and neck, down his shoulders, holding on to his wet skin, squeezing him into her.

The force of his hips had to be felt to be believed, the motion that pushed him into her never ending, taking her higher and higher, the fat head pushing across her clit, teasing her, taking her.

When they both came, the stars they saw were a gift to each other, slowly sinking down to sit on the rim of the tub, holding and kissing, whispering sweet nothings to one another, still squeezing, still holding, not wanting it to be over.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to. Do you not want me to?”

“I like it when you do it.” He grinned at her, and she kissed him, loving the feeling of his rough skin and stubble against her soft flesh.

“Be right back.”

She smiled again, then mounted the stage, and slipped into her routine. By now it was a skill, something she had mastered, shedding her clothing slowly, moving with the song she had chosen, up and down the pole, through the triangle, then grinding on the stage. They left an hour later, another wad of cash in her purse.

They stopped on the way back to the hotel, picking up Chinese and a bottle of wine, then he carried her inside, and dropped her on the bed. “You are getting good at that.”

“Thanks. I like doing it for you.” She giggled, still giddy with the excitement of having won again.

“You are a beautiful little creature.” Crawling onto her, they kissed, and she reached under her skirt, feeling the wetness in her thong, rubbing her pussy through it, pinching her clit.

She moaned out loud, grabbing the bed, and he bit her exposed neck, down to her blouse, pushing it aside with his nose, finding her nipples still exposed, and sucking on them. Her fingers ran through his hair, and she purred like the satisfied kitty that she was, feeling him turn her fire up, stripping away her clothes, kissing her all over.

It was a dance she enjoyed more then she could express in words, as he held her naked form in his arms, touching and kissing her all over. He was rough with her, demanding, and she would push back, not giving in easily to what he wanted, getting herself man-handled for her troubles, the feeling of his fingers pinching her nipples and his hands slapping her ass so exquisite, so delicious, the forbidden nature of their roughness turning her own that much more.

She tried to push off the bed, pulling at his shirt, and he let it go, but then bounced her back against the mattress, flipping her over. She tried to pull away, but he held her down, pushing into her from behind. She moaned out loud, pulling herself along the bed, but he was in, and holding her tight.

He was by no means a gentle lover, and whenever he fucked her, it was like wild animals, like a lion claiming his lioness, and mating her because he could, and she had no say in the matter. It drove her wild, made her crazy, her pussy on fire with his fingers toying with her clit, and his cock pounding into her very being. Screaming out his name, she felt him exploding in her, her body shaking in orgasm.

With ease he flipped her over, and dove into her pussy. She cried out, trying to hold him back. No matter how often he did it, it always drove her crazy. He would cum in her, then eat her pussy, his hot juices swirling in her as he sucked her clit to earth shattering orgasms.

She was left laying on the bed, body shaking with the after effects of his attention, mind reeling from the assault he performed on her, as he stood and pulled his pants back up, then kissed her forehead. She purred again, and he opened one of the water bottles they had picked up earlier, handing it to her.

“Thank you.” Sitting up, she sipped the aqua, stretching. “When are we going to the keys?”

“Whenever you are ready.”

“Well, I mean we turned north in Miami, that was your idea.”

“You were on a roll, so we hit Lauderdale and Boca. But we can head south whenever you are done caressing chrome.”

She laughed, and stood on unsteady legs, walking over to the small table he had come to rest at. “Why do you want to go to the Keys?”

“I own a house down there.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I told you I’m from Florida. Key West, to be exact.”

“Wow. I didn’t think anybody was actually from Key West.”

He laughed, pulling her into his lap, and feeding her several bites of his chicken. She leaned her head against his shoulder, kissing him softly on the neck, feeling his cum leaking onto her leg.

“Are you going to send me away?”

“What do you mean?”

“When this is all over, when we get there, are you going to send me away?”

He looked up into her eyes, then slowly picked her up, and carried her back to the bed. Together they undressed him, turning of the light at some point, and they kissed, long and hard. It started from there, not the frantic attack they normally went through, but a slow, deliberate wandering of each others bodies, touching, kissing, licking, tasting, feeling, exploring.

She gave him what he wanted, the attention that he craved, while he turned her on the way that only he could, strong hands and fingers teasing her, until they both could not take it any more. They both wanted it so bad that when it happened it was natural, unhurried, slow, languid movements, kissing all along, fondling and caressing one another.

Wrapping her legs around him, long, dancer legs sliding up and down his sides, she held him close, kissing his face and neck, feeling him moving in her, feeling his lips on her, feeling the tension bleed away, the heat they shared, the emotions coursing through both of them.

When they climaxed, it was a shared even that brought tears to both their eyes, kissing each other softly, whispering to one another, holding on tight, not wanting the moment o end, clutching to the present in fear of the future, until finally they had to relax their grips, and slide apart.

Slowly she stood, and walked into the bathroom, now really needing to use its facilities. She could see him moving around, sliding back into his jeans, and eating again. The knocking on the door made him perk up, and he pulled the door to the bathroom shut, smiling at her.

Secure that he was alone in the room, he looked around, pulling a shirt over his wiry frame, and digging around in his bag for a second. Another knock, this one more insistent, and he stepped across the room, standing next to the door.

“Who is it?”

“My name is Marianne Smith. I’m looking for my daughter Alexis.”

He relaxed, then peeked out the window. There were two men standing behind the woman, standing off to the side of the door, out of the view of the peephole. To bad they had not been trained the same way he had.

Undoing the chain, he unlocked the door, and let it slip open just a bit, his foot blocking it. “You are Alexis mother?”

“Yes. Is she here?” The woman took a step back when she saw the man behind the door, and Chris considered that maybe the shirt was not the ideal wear for meeting the parents. The black t-shirt displayed a bloody skull, held up by a skeleton dressed in full battle rattle. The writing underneath read “Take a number, punk.” It had been his team’s motto.

“Yes, she is. Who is with you?”

The older man stepped forward, and he recognized him as her father from the pictures she had shown him the other night. The other guy had not looked anything like these two, so that only really left one option for him.

Stepping away from the door, he flipped the light on, and waved them in, dashing to the bathroom door, and slipping inside.

Alexis looked up from her nails, which she had been painting when he closed the door behind him, stepping up to her, his hand covering her mouth. “Your parents are here.” She almost screamed, but he had anticipated that, so it went into his hand. She gave him a look, and he pulled it away.

“In the room?”

“Yeah.”

“How did they find us?”

“Not sure. What do you want me to do? Get rid of them?”

She smiled at that. His fiercely protective streak had displayed itself on one or two other occasions, and she really liked it. But not now. Shaking her head, she wrapped a towel around herself, made sure it was secure, then looked at Chris.

“They alone?”

“No, I think Martin is with them.”

“Blond hair, blue eyes, about six feet, around one eighty or so, kinda skinny a bit, good hair cut, dressed kinda preppy?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Sweet.”

Pushing into him, his arms enveloped her. They could hear them moving around outside, and she squeezed him, her arms bumping something in his back. Reaching under his shirt, she pulled out the massive black handgun, staring into his eyes.

“What, there was somebody knocking at the door?”

“How long have you had a gun?”

“Since I was twelve.”

“We’ll talk about this later. Are you going to support me to my parents? I know why they are here.”

“I’ll support you against anything.”

Her mother and father were sitting in the chairs by the table, with Martin leaning against the wall behind her mother when they stepped out. Everybody rose when she walked in, and she smiled at them. “Hi.” Alexis smiled at everybody, picking some clothes out of her bag. “Hang on!”

Dashing back into the bathroom, Chris smiled at them, then picked up the bottle of wine from earlier. “Drink, anybody?” Her dad was the only one that bit, but it took up the time until she reemerged, now fully dressed.

“Ok…good to see everybody…what’s up?”

“Martin tells us that you canceled the wedding!” Her mother seemed truly upset by this development, but her father appeared more amused.

“Well, he more did it then I did.”

“You would not come home!” Martin was off the wall, and she saw Chris flex, the muscles in his arms pumping. Wow, his arms were probably about twice the size of her former fiancés. She had never realized how much bigger Chris was.

“No, I was not yet ready. Why are you in such a hurry to get married?”

“Let’s see, I’m trying to get my jobs lined up, buy a house, you know, do married things, start our life together.”

“If it is a life together, why can’t it wait a couple of months? Not that it matters. It is not even an option anymore. That part of my life is over.”

“And what part are we in now?” Her mother was spitting venom, the question more aimed at Chris then Alexis. He looked as if he would respond, but she stopped him, gently touching his arm, and answering.

“The part where I get to do what I’ve always wanted to do. I get to be free for a bit, see some things, and try something new. I even took some of your advice dad.”

“You danced naked in the moon light?”

“No, I did that with my sorority in college.”

“Really?” Chris perked up at the mention of naked dancing.

“Yeah. You aren’t surprised, are you?”

“Not really.” He laughed, but nobody else got it. Except for her father.

“You didn’t!”

“Yes, I did. Several times, actually.” Alexis got up and grabbed her purse, pulling out the envelope that had now taken over the duty of holding her money. Flipping it over, she looked at her total column on the back. “And I’ve made over five grand doing it.” “What are you people talking about?” Marianne could not stand not knowing what people were talking about.

“She’s been stripping!” Her father sounded as if she had won the lottery or something, his hands balled into fists, pumping in the air. Martin looked as if she had just told him that she had run over his dog, then backed up to make sure it was really dead. Her mother buried her face in her hands, and her daughter was sure she was going to cry.

“Listen. It’s not like I plan on becoming a professional stripper!” She had actually given that some thought, but it seemed like the thing to say at the moment. “Yes, the marriage thing is off. But your presence here, with Martin, indicates to me that somebody wants it to be on again. Is that the case?”

“Yes.” Martin finally detached himself from the wall, taking a deep breath, and stepping forward. He took a sharp turn, putting Alexis between him and Chris, dropping to one knee, and producing a small black box. “I’m sorry about what happened with Sarah. It was a mistake. I realize that you are the one for me. That was my trip. Maybe I had to take it, like you had to take yours. But please, please come home to me now. And marry me.” With one smooth motion that she was sure he had practiced, he opened the box, and showed off the diamond ring that he had been saving for.

Chris let out a low whistle, unable to contain his initial instinct. He had to admit, the rock was pretty neat. Better then what he had bought his wife, way back when. But then again, Private First Class in Uncle Sam’s service did not pay well, no matter what the recruiter had told him. Two smaller rocks flanked the big one in the center, and he suddenly realized that he had seen that exact thing on TV recently in and add working on the past, present, future angle. Apparently one stone was out, three were in, and this guy had enough dough to pull that off. He felt her squeeze his leg, and gently touched the small of her back, looking over at her.

Alexis was starring at the ring, her mind in turmoil, but her emotions clearly pointing her in the right direction. Casting a glance over at Chris, she saw the same soft smile that she saw in the rearview mirror when hugging his body, that relaxed contentment of the open roads and the freedom of not knowing what came next, of just heading in one direction, and getting there when you get there.

“I’m sorry Martin. It’s over between us.” She smiled her most conciliatory smile, and the man nodded softly, admitting defeat. “You’ll make somebody very happy someday.”

“You can’t be serious, can you?” Marianne interjected herself back into the conversation, despite the best attempts of her husband to silence her with glances and hand gestures. “What are you going to do, ride around America with this guy?” The wave of her hand was probably meant to indicate Chris, who did not respond.

“For a while, yes.” She shrugged, and then wrapped her arms around the man next to her, closing her eyes as the heat from his body overwhelmed her. “We are having fun, I’m learning new things, and I’m earning enough money to support myself for a while. How did you guys find me, by the way?”

“Calling card. You made your last call from here, and we traced it through ATT.” Her father jumped to that one, before anybody else could. She smiled, remembering that after all, the calling card was tied to her parents home phone account, a lifeline in college, but now more of a leash. It would have to go.

“Listen, thank you guys for being concerned, but…”

“Should we leave you guys alone?” Chris hands clearly were indicating himself and Martin, but the man looked suddenly pale. The nod from the father was enough, and before anybody could move, he had wrapped one arm around the frail man, dragging him to the door. “Come on, buddy! I’ll buy you a beer, and you can tell me funny stories about the little ‘lexis.”

The two walked out of the room, the door slamming behind them, and she turned back to her parents. “Listen to me first. When I left home, I flew to San Diego. Hung out there for a bit with some sorority sisters of mine, then rode to a place called Yuma, in the Arizona Desert. They had a fair going on, so I hitched on that to Phoenix. That is where I linked up with Chris. We’ve been traveling together ever since, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, down into Florida. We had just hit Florida when I had that conversation with Martin.”

Her father nodded, trying to look interested in that part of the story, but he could really care less. In the choices of son in law, he would rather have Chris any day. He already had two boring ass squares, and another one lined up. If this daughter got herself somebody interesting, he was all for it. So he asked what really mattered. “Where did you start dancing?”

“You’ll be proud.”

“Vegas?”

“Better.”

“What could be better then Vegas?”

“Guess!” She started digging in her bags, holding something just out of sight as her father thought about places between San Diego and Miami that could be better, his mind tracing the interstates. Then the light came on.

“You didn’t!”

“We missed Mardi Gras by two weeks, but close enough.”

“Can we get back on topic here!” Her mother looked truly angry now, so her father let it go, but it was clear he wanted to know more.

“So, you want to marry little Alexis, huh?” Chris took a sip from his Corona, regarding Martin with a sideways glance. The kid was seriously sweating, and had already downed half his beer bottle.

“Ahh…yeah…yeah…I did, well…I guess…”

“Dude, relax. Not like I’m going to hurt you.” But I could, he left unsaid. But he was sure his compadre got that message anyways.

“Well. Ah…we dated in high school and such…”

“Yeah, she told me the story. You are a loyal kinda guy. I admire that in a guy. I was married once. Didn’t like it.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. She was a cheating whore. You ever seen Off-base amateurs?”

“Is that like…”

“A porn. It’s a porn, dude.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen a couple of them.”

“She was in three, four, seven, and ten.”

“Three…that was…”

“My house.”

The kid almost fell of his chair, staring at the man. The woman featured in that one had been amazing, not just in sexual ability, but in looks. Not the worn out porn star kind of look, or the made up plastic surgery victim, but just a naturally beautiful woman who got fucked over and over and over, and just seemed to love her job.

“That was your wife?”

“Yeah. I was in the army at the time, as was she, and anyways, I was away on a deployment somewhere. So, I’m not a big fan of marriage.”

“I don’t blame ya.”

“But I’m sure it will work out for ya.” Chris took another sip of his beer.

“Thanks.” The sarcasm was apparent, and they both smiled.

“What did you guys talk about?” The water was crystal clear, and she could see fishes darting about. On the water, boats were moving this and that way, and she was giddy with excitement. Only forty more miles separated them from Key West.

“Marriage. I told him about my hate of marriage, and he told me about this Sarah chick. Sounds like a nice girl.”

“Sarah went to Catholic school, and bought all that bullshit.”

“You go to Catholic school?”

“Sure did, all my life until college.”

“Really? You never told me that!”

“You got yourself a real Catholic school girl slut!” She laughed, striking a pose leaning back on the motorcycle, and he had to smile. Walking over, he kissed her exposes tummy, and then pulled her into his arms.

“What are we going to do?”

“You going to send me away?”

“You worry about that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Stop. You are welcome as long as you want to stay.”

“I just wanted to tell you, you are amazing.”

“You are awesome! Will you sign this t-shirt?”

“You are the best! The greatest ever! Can I get a picture?”

“Will you do porn? Can I get an autograph?”

She smiled at them all, slowly moving through the crowd, the three massive bouncers careful to only let one or two get close at a time. Even though she had slipped back into the white dress, she still always felt a bit exposed at moments like these. One of them thrust a book at her, and she was surprised, as always, to see herself looking up from the cover, upside down, wrapped around a pole, the title strategically obscuring anything that would make the cover picture X rated.

The book had only been out seven weeks, but it was a NY Times best seller, apparently a lot of people wanted to read about the woman that had stripped her way from New Orleans to Miami, to New York, to Vancouver, and finally to Vegas. And with her picture now having appeared in Maxim, Playboy, King, Stuff, Vanity Fair, and even Cosmo, the face that had last year been just that of a young girl turning down her suitor was now the face of stripping to a nation not yet at grips with its secret sexual obsession.

She signed the cover, kissed the guy on the cheek, leaving a big red lip mark, and moved on. Several more fans later she tapped the lead bouncer on the shoulder, and they plowed a line for her back to the dressing room.

Chris was sitting in the chair she had occupied before the show, sipping from one of her Evian water bottles, the post show glow plastered on his face. When she walked in he rose, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her hard.

“You were amazing.”

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true.” They kissed again, and she believed him.

“I got your stuff in the bag already, you ready to go?” He held up the saddlebags, and she nodded, taking one last look around. She was fond of the Gentleman’s Club; it was the most upscale strip joint she had seen in North Carolina so far.

Heading out the back door, they climbed onto the matching Harley Davidson Fat boys she had bought with the royalties from her book, sitting for a second, listening to the night.

“How far?” Slipping her helmet and glasses on, she already knew that the rumbling of the engine between her legs, the sight of her sexy companion, and the wind on the thin material would have her horny as hell soon, even in the warm summer night.

“Raleigh tonight?”

“You read my mind.” She smiled at him, he smiled back, and they roared into the night.

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