Davy's On The Road Again Ch. 04byoldhippie1949©
Wherein our hero, Davy, continues his vagabond RV adventure through Midwestern campgrounds but feels a pull westward.
"I'll keep rolling along
Deep in my heart is a song
Here on the range I belong
Drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds..."
I awoke to the sound of guitars. I'd slept for nearly two hours and it was 10 p.m. From the side of the bed, Santo looked at me with those big eyes and I knew he had to go out. I rousted myself, washed my face and walked out into the crisp night. It was cooler than I expected so I went back in for a long-sleeved t-shirt. Back outside, I listened to the guitars a couple of sites away. Santo leaned up against the tree and emptied himself and we walked toward the music.
There was a cowboy air all around me as I came upon a group sitting under a large screened tent. Must have been a dozen people listening to a couple of guys strumming country songs. I joined the group and listened to their sweet harmonies. As they ended "Tumbling Tumbleweeds", one pointed to a guitar off to the side and invited anyone who wanted to join them to sit in. I walked over and picked up the small but very sweet Martin D-18 and sat down. Santo curled up under my feet as I checked the tuning while they started "I Ride an Old Paint." I began to pick some riffs and fills. I fell in right away and it sounded fine and felt kinda nice, too. The singer grinned as the sound filled out and sweetened. As any good listening musician, he heard it happening, too.
The audience filled out a bit, too, as a few more sauntered into the tent. I was trying to sound like a dobro and I liked the sound we created. It was one lonesome cowboy tune after another and I imagined myself around a campfire during a cattle drive in the late 1800s. I looked around the crowd for the first time and was delighted in its diversity. There were a couple of families with small boys snuggled into the parents, a few older white haired folks, a few hippie types in their twenties, a pair of young women also in their twenties - one black, one white, an hispanic family with a beautiful raven-haired dark-eyed little girl, and a few couples holding hands. One couple caught my eye as I played. He was a tall black man graying around the temples and she was also tall, with red-brown skin and incredible cheekbones. I figured her to be a Native American. Their dog, a small collie, lay at their feet. I smiled as I played and I drifted back into the music.
The lead singer asked me if I wanted to play one so I thought of songs to fit the mood. I laid out the chords and the loping rhythm for them and rolled into Randy Newman's "Blue Shadows (On The Trail)", an obscure number from the film, "Three Amigos."
"Blue Shadows on the trail,
Little cowboy, close your eyes and dream,
All of the dogies are in the corral,
All of your work is done,
Just close your eyes and,
dream little pal, dream of, someone..."
I sang out strong and liked the timbre in my voice. It felt good to sing and play in front of an appreciative audience again. The other two walked right into it and we created a magical moment. I was very pleased especially with an extended solo break. It sounded wonderful and it brought a nice applause. It was now eleven and the leader thanked everyone for hanging out but it was time to pack it in. "Blue Shadows" seemed the perfect way to end the impromptu performance.
The families collected their kids and began to disperse toward their tents and trailers. I thanked the other players and told them just how much I enjoyed it. We had one of those "musician moments" where we all smiled at each other and we silently knew we had performed well together - we had meshed. Quite a few people surrounded us to thank us and offer compliments. The leader said he thought I looked familiar and I introduced myself. He nodded with recognition and we shook hands. Santo and the little collie were making their sniffing ballet-de-deux as I thanked the audience and shook lots of hands. I tugged at Santo's leash and began to leave the tent as I chatted with the tall couple, the young female couple and a dad and his little son.
We walked our dogs along the perimeter of the campgrounds and I was invited to their trailer for a beer. The dad and his son had drifted off by now and it was just the five of us sitting under their tented awning. We talked about our journeys thus far. I learned that the tall couple was on their way to the Pawnee Reservation up north to see her family. The young women were heading up to Bozeman, Montana where they lived and ran a business. After a few beers, they bid their goodbyes and drifted into the darkness. I figured that this my cue to leave, too, but the couple began to ask me more questions and the conversation became more personal. Their names were Jack and Sunny and they were very gracious. They asked me if I wanted something a little harder to drink and asked me to step inside. I asked if they wanted to share a joint. Jack passed but Sunny liked the idea. I offered to go get one and then to return.
I walked Santo back to our trailer and he immediately curled up in his bed. I pulled out my stash and headed back to their large motorhome. Clearly, it was the largest vehicle around and the slide-outs made it even more immense. This sucker was about 40' long. I rapped on the door and stepped in. It was really something to behold. Jack took me on a tour showing off the large galley and dining area, the adjoining living room, the bathroom suite and the huge master bedroom. The interior was lit by soft LEDs and I commented on how this was a helluva way to travel. The driver's cockpit looked almost like a jet pilot's seat with a myriad of gauges, dials and screens. Jack began to pour and I asked if he had any cognac. He lifted a bottle of Hennessy from the bar and poured me a couple of fingers. We sat around the table as I began to roll up a couple of spliffs.
Sunny's voice was soft and sweet. She told about how they'd been on the road for three months and still had another six weeks before they returned to Tillmook, Oregon. Jack was swigging away on his single malt and he was putting it away. At 6'3", he was a former basketball player with The Warriors and was now enjoying his life as a college coach. His deep mellifluous voice was very expressive and as the liquor fueled him, he sounded even deeper and more resonant. I asked him if he was a singer and he said no, laughing me off and saying that he couldn't carry a tune at all. Sunny was a history professor and they'd met at the college. It was her first marriage and his third.
Sunny sipped her white wine and between the booze and the smoke, we were getting looser. Jack began to toke up, too. They asked me more intimate questions. Jack asked how a single man could travel alone - didn't I get horny. Sunny tried to shush him but his gregarious nature seemed naturally bold.
"Sure," I said, "but it seems to me that road warriors all seem to be horny toads so there's lots of sex everywhere I go. I haven't been horny for too long!"
Jack lit up and asked for some details. Politely, and watching my words, I told them about my Jefferson City debauchery. Sunny was all ears. I also told them that I planned to stop at another nudist/sex resort along the way. They wanted details and so I told them how to look it up on the web. Sunny turned to her laptop and pulled up the URL. Within moments, they were locked onto the screen. I directed them to the resort in Palm Springs as one of my destinations.
"Oh, Jack, this is us. Let's do it after Grand Canyon."
"Hey, that's my plan, too!"
"Yeah, this looks cool, Sunshine."
"I like that it's got a fancy spa."
"You gonna meet us there, Davy? Looks like pussy heaven."
"Yeah, Jack, if it times out right maybe I will. I'm going up to Colorado next and then hopefully to Grand Canyon and then Palm Springs."
"Well, maybe it will because we're going to Santa Fe after visiting Sunny's folks. Hey, it'll be fun." Jack was getting very loose now having refilled his tumbler and relit the joint.
Sunny took a deep hit, "Oh, I think I love this place. It's a sex resort, hon. They're gonna love you and your monster there."
"Yeah, baby. I can see you getting all the cock you want, too."
"Com'n Jack, you know that you're all the cock I need, big guy. Actually, I was thinking of something else," she said with a sly grin. He grinned back at her and silent words were passed.
"Oh, you two have got to cut this out. I'm getting an erection now - forget about what I'll be like when I see you naked in Palm Springs, Sunny."
They laughed and told me to calm down. My cock was straining against my jeans. I noticed that Jack was hard, too, especially when he pulled at his pants. "He must be carrying some package," went through my head.
"We've partied with groups, too, Davy. We like to have our fun, don't we, hon."
"We sure do, baby. We surely do."
Sunny got up to go to the bathroom as Jack flipped through the web site mumbling to himself. He was pretty stoned. I sat back and did some deep toking. I looked around the bus and I realized that parts of it were custom fitted for tall people. Also, the accoutrements were all top notch and expensive. I noticed multiple speakers placed in corners and realized that the big screen TV rose up from the back of the bar. Nice touch.
Sunny came back wearing a red silk robe. It occurred to me that she must have been a fashion model at some point in her life. She was tall and thin with very long legs, small breasts and wide shoulders. I imagined her walking a runway with her beautiful face, high cheekbones and imperious manner. I also imagined her flat ass and shaved pussy. She caught me looking at her.
"What do you mean 'What'?"
"I mean, what were you thinking? Come on, fess up, Davy."
"I was thinking that you must have been a fashion model."
"Yes, I was. I modeled for five years. I saw the world, made some good money, made a few friends and it was a lot of fun. Want to see some pictures?" It seemed like a pretty vain thing to say but I was curious.
Before I could say yes, she popped a CD into the player and the giant screen rose up just as I had figured. I took a seat on the couch as she sat next to me with the remote. I passed her the joint as a slideshow began. It was a collection of their pictures with some of Jack dribbling down court and some of Sunny's modeling shots. One of her images came up with her wearing a thong bikini on a sandy beach.
"Wait, stop there." I examined her awesome body and the shaved area on the sides of the thong.
"That was part of the SI shoot about 20 years ago. Here's another."
This picture had her hands spayed over her bare breasts. The yellow bottom featured a perfect camel's toe.
"For obvious reasons, this one didn't make the magazine."
Jack, who was still scanning the web site, looked up. "Yeah, that's one of my favorites." Then he added, "I just googled you, Davy. Davy Harper, singer/songwriter. Five albums and a Greatest Hits."
"That was long ago, Jack. I'm out of the business for some years now."
Sunny pulled the robe away from her leg and I gawked at it, following it up to her thigh. Even the collie seemed mesmerized by the view as he, too, looked up. The next picture was of the two of them, both nude. Jack was standing behind her and his cock was shielded by her body. Her legs were crossed hiding her pussy but her tits were bared and her nipples were large, round and pointing up.
"Listen, Sunny, I can't look at these. Thanks for your hospitality but I think I'll be going now."
I stood up and my cock was doing an impression of a camp tent. Jack looked up and laughed, "You're killing the poor guy, baby. Look at his pants, for Christ's sake!"
Sunny just smiled and said, "I'm flattered." Again, I thought that she was a bit too conceited. To Jack, she said, "Hey Jack, want to help this poor guy out...I'm horny and I'm high...come on, Jack, let's all fuck."
"Whatever you say, baby, whatever you say."
I was shocked as her remark seemed to come out of nowhere and then I realized that she had been coming on to me since she walked out in the robe. She took my hand and led me to their bedroom as Jack followed behind. Jokingly, he squeezed my ass, "You up for this, old man?"
I took a sip of my cognac, "We'll see, Jack."
In the bedroom, Jack pressed a button and the shades drew down. Sunny slipped off her robe and stood before us wearing only a small white lace thong. I could see that she was hairless. She twirled around in front of me and shook her ass in my face, "Not bad for an old retired model, huh?" Oh, Lord. I had to agree.
Jack slipped out of his clothes and stood in his boxers, "Well, what are you waiting for?" he asked me.
I began to peel of my clothes as Sunny crawled along the bed and fished Jack's cock out of his boxers. It must have been a good 10". It was long and thin, tapering to a small purple helmet. Sunny sucked it into her mouth.
"That's right, baby. suck that thing. Yes, suck it good," he looked over to me, "best cocksucker in the world, songman."
I was now down to my stretch boxers and I moved behind Sunny. She was on all fours and her beautiful butt was up in the air in front of my eyes. I leaned in and began to kiss it. I gave one cheek a good hickey as the appreciatively moaned on Jack's cock. I rubbed my hands along her ass and palmed her pussy as I nibbled on her ass. I pulled her thong to the side. Her pussy was hot - not only warm but fucking hot, if you know what I mean. I thought I might cum right then and there.
She pivoted around and facing me, fished my cock out of my shorts. While a few inches smaller that Jack's, I more than made up the difference in girth. She lipped the tip and looked up at me, "Nice dick, Davy. This will fit nicely in my ass." How I didn't shoot right then and there, I will never know.
I then did something I truly hate to do - I moved away from the moment. I moved outside myself and took in the scene, in other words, I became a spectator. I saw this tall, strong man on his knees pumping his tall and beautiful wife. I saw her lips wrapped around my dick as I stood on the side of the bed. I saw the grandly modern bedroom with its glitzy fixtures and floor-to-ceiling mirrors. I saw the scene reflected. I saw Jack smiling back at me. It was the pot blending in with my disbelief. My dick started to wilt so I pulled myself away from her.
She rolled onto her back and I looked down on this magnificent creature. I had a strong desire to taste her so I got onto the bed and at moved to her side. Jack continued to slide in and out with his long dick. I leaned in and pulled her vaginal lips apart with one hand while the other moved over her clit. I rubbed her clit up and back while maintaining my distance from his cock.
"Ooh, I like that. I like that, Davy. Lick me."
Like I knew she wouldn't like it? Her whole demeanor cried out "Do ME!" I leaned in closer and began to lick her nubbin gently. My tongue twirled around it. It flicked at it. It danced on it. I sucked it in between my lips and held it there. I breathed her in and she smelled earthy and sweaty.
"Don't stop, Davy. Jack. Cumming. Cumming. Cumming!"
She pushed her snatch up to me and applied a deeper pressure on her hard clit. She locked her legs around Jack and he held her up by her butt cheeks. He slid in hard and shook her but I stayed firm. I was on a mission and my mission was to make her cum and then to get the hell out of there. For some odd reason, I really wasn't into them. I wasn't really there but I was and I was more than a little uncomfortable but I didn't want to let her know.
She pressed herself into Jack and flexed her thighs. I felt her tremble and then release...flex, tremble and release. Her hand played with my sac and squeezed it and then, in a very powerful surge, I felt her cum. Her clit pounded my face. Jack pulled out of her and began to shoot his cum on my face as I buried it into her dripping hole. Her fluid dripped over my nose, over my eyes, along my forehead and into my hair. It was warm and peaty while Jack's hot cum hit my neck. My hands clenched her butt and I felt her muscles soften and melt. I gently eased her down and continued to lick her clit until she pushed my head away.
"Oh, that was good, boys. That was very good."
"Sorry, old man, sorry I shot all over you but I couldn't help it. She squeezed it out of me."
"It's cool, man, I didn't mind. You guys are so hot, I didn't mind at all."
"Let me make you cum, Davy. I owe you a good one."
"No, Sunny, it's okay. I'm not going to cum now. Maybe I'm too tired or maybe it's because I jerked off before. I'll just wash up." (I lied about that but I didn't want her to feel strange and anyway, I was satisfied enough by bringing her to orgasm.)
I went off to the bathroom to wash up and wipe off the cum from my body. When I returned they were both under the covers. I began to dress and Jack started to get up.
"No, stay there," I said. "I'll let myself out. I want to go back and collapse myself."
"But I want you to join us in bed, Davy. Let me make you cum," she said this through half-closed eyes as if she was almost asleep. I just knew she didn't mean it.
"Tell you what, Sunny, when we meet in Palm Springs, I let you do me and do me and do me. Okay? Is it a deal?"
"Okay, it's a deal and a deal is a deal."
I kissed her. I shook Jack's hand. I collected my stash and gulped down the last of the cognac.
"See you two up the road," and I hurriedly left.
After taking Santo for a quick walk, I closed up the trailer. My mind was rattled and exhausted. There were too many bees buzzing around inside. I smoked a roach I had laying around and passed out for the night but I recall lots of wacky dreams. Dreams of my past, of my ex, of all sorts of disquieting things. I rolled around a lot that night but eventually I did fall into a deep slumber.
I woke early and hit the road right away. After gassing up, I passed through Amarillo and headed north to Boise City. There was no one on the flat and straight road. Passing some grassland and windmill farms, only the music kept me alert. An occasional sagebrush ball blew down the road as I entered Comanche territory. I envisioned old Cowboy and Indian movies but mostly I was Ethan Edwards searching for my little Debbie as "days passed into weeks, the seasons turned..." I stopped at a trading post simply because it was called "Trading Post" and that seemed propitious although there was nothing to buy except Chinese-made trinkets. But this was not Monument Valley, the stone outcroppings were too small and nondescript. I kept to 287 until I reached the town of Kit Carson and stopped for lunch, gas and a break. The sky was a riot of blue and extreme clouds exploding and towering above. The rest stop was all dust and low bush and except for a light breeze, the place could be best described as dreary. Even Santo wasn't wild about his walk but thankfully he did his business. As we headed back toward the trailer, a beat up old Ford station wagon pulled in and I recognized the female couple from last night's hootenanny. We made our pleasantries and I invited them in to join me at lunch.
They were a very nice pair of woman. Neither was beautiful nor even striking but they made for good pleasant company. They brought over some fresh chicken salad they'd picked up on the road and I made sandwiches and cold drinks. Elaine, the black girl, was crazy over Santo and he enjoyed her attention as well as her scratching his belly. Dorothy and I talked about Bozeman and the book store they owned. Soon enough, we said our goodbyes because we wanted to make our destinations as early as possible. I rolled myself a couple of fat joints and turned back onto 287.