The Journey There and Back Ch. 01

Part 1 - The Escape

Authors note: This is best read in a melancholic mood.

* * *

Well, here we are my friend, the same old, same old.

Look at her.

This is enough for her. What a small view of the world she has, her nipples erect, all the muscles in her face working to contain the mixture of complex sensations manifesting from her orgasm. This cum that she has day in, day out, seems to be ok with her, because she is smiling at me.

I can't even look her in the eye, because the cum that she's wiping from my cock ain't enough for me. A kiss on the forehead should let her know I still care about her. Good night, babe.

Now I have to turn off the light, and lay in melancholy.

Maybe there isn't anything out there to give me the mental stimulation I crave. My life seems so mundane that it is almost hurting my soul. I haven't always had family, money, a good woman, or a stable home. I have all those things now...

But I'm not happy.

She's snoring now, so it's time to sneak out for a walk on the street. It's still fairly light out, between the big moon and all the street lights. The night is cold and wet, the cars making a hypnotic swooshing sound as they pass me by. I feel like a boxer at the bottom of the heap, trying to fight his way up through the ranks. I walk with my head stooped forward and a few drops of rain running off the front off my hood.

I need to get away from here.

I want to keep pounding this concrete path until I end up in another land. If I could walk under water, I could keep heading in the same direction until I hit New Zealand. All this feeling sorry for myself is making me tired, and I have to build a garden out the back in the morning. Time to head back and fade into oblivion, until the sun hits the horizon again.

* * *

I've worked with gardens for a while now, so creating a new one is old hat. In this region you dig out the dirt, spread some gypsum, put down some sandy loam, and then top with soil. Simple.

"Hey, sexy."

I guess I do look ok — I'm fit and brown from working outside — but in my heart, I feel she doesn't mean it, it's just something to say. "Hey, babe, thanks for the drink."

Back to digging this hole.

It will give me something to do, since I no longer have friends or hobbies. My friends have long since moved away, or have married and moved on with their lives. Hobbies disappeared with my youth, along with any new excitement in my life.

I would really just like to disappear to another place. Maybe I could just keep digging, until I get to Far China on the other side of the world.

I wonder what is on the other side of the world, if I dug a hole straight down. I know it wouldn't be China. I'll have to have a look on the internet.

* * *

Let's see, if I look up my longitude and latitude, I should be able to work out opposite longitude and latitude, to find the opposite side of the world. This site says my longitude is 151.418E and my latitude is 33.282S. So, the opposite side of the world should be 33.282 North in latitude. There are also 360 degrees in a circle, so the opposite side should be minus 180 degrees, 28.582W.

That is the exact opposite side of the world, on the right hand side of the North Atlantic Ocean. The closest land to that point is Santa Maria Island, in the Azores, off the coast of Portugal. So, if I wanted to get as far away as possible, that would be the very place.

Who am I kidding. I haven't been in a plane since I was 10 and I've developed numerous phobias since then.

Oh well, it's a nice thought. Now, back to the grind of completing this garden, and then a bit of a rest before work again tomorrow. No chance of too much peace as the phone rings for the 12th time today.

* * *

A bit of hedge trimming and this yard will be as good as it gets. I swear, I should be hired as a lawn and garden artist instead of a gardener, and paid accordingly. I don't know how many times I've been told that it's the best job they've ever seen.

Gee, I have a good eye for angles and aesthetics. It looks like I have measured every section of this hedge and set a ratio, in relation to the other plants. A bit of a rake, a blow, a step back for admiration, and it's over until the next job.

"That's it, if you're happy with that, Mrs Sotherby."

I always ask that, but I already know the answer.

"Of course, come in, I'll grab the money for you, and don't mind me I haven't gotten out of my pyjamas yet. A bit of a lazy day for me."

Does she really think I care? I don't think so, and I don't mind having a perve on that arse knowing there is only the material of her pyjama bottoms covering it. Her tits are also bouncing hypnotically as she walks, with the friction of her top on her naked nipples causing them to grow hard.

"Here you go."

Gee, she has an attractive smile, especially when she hands over cash.

"Want a drink — or anything else?"

Now, I know she sees me staring at her breasts, hanging while she is searching for a cup in the bottom cupboard. I also know the implied meaning of anything else, especially since her smile is even bigger now — as she looks me in the eye — than before.

If I jump in balls and all here, I could lose a contract. Is a fuck really worth that?

"I would love a drink, I'm dying of thirst." That should get me out of it.

Her smile — in response to my smirk — indicates to me that she is thinking something along the line of, Ok, it was worth a try.

* * *

If this phone rings again, especially while I am driving, I am going to throw it. Home — I better answer.

"How ya going?" Not that I am really interested as I have a huge amount of jobs to get through.

"Good. You have been getting calls about overdue payments."

Nice to know that if it's anything to do with my stuff, she hands it back to me. "Can't you take care of them?" You think she could spend half an hour — out of her not so busy day — to transfer some money or send a cheque.

"No, it's your stuff; I wouldn't know what I was doing."

It's lucky she can get out of bed without instructions. My eyes are going to roll all the way around in a minute. "No worries, see you when I get home."

There's a travel agency. I'm stopping to ask about Santa Maria. Looks like a typical travel agency, with posters advertising lots of different locations.

Even the use the other door sign is making me mad, right now.

The girl behind the desk looks very classy — all dressed up. "Hey good looking, can I help you?"

I could insert, You can help me decide whether to ask you out for dinner or lunch, or hey sexy, but it's all too much trouble. "Yeah, I am looking for a holiday on Santa Maria Island, off Portugal." I am guessing she knows nothing about it.

"I know it, I have stayed in Santa Barbara before, on the east coast of the island."

Barbara, Maria, I don't give a shit as long as she ain't got balls. Come on, give me the flight details. I'm in a foul mood, I need to calm down. She does know the island at least.

"When do you want to go?"

I reckon yesterday, or six months ago would be nice. "When is the earliest I can get there?"

Her long, manicured nails, tapping thier way across the keyboard, suit her starched, professional, not a hair out of place image. "Well, there is a flight out of Sydney to London, tomorrow morning at four a.m., then a flight from London to Lisbon three hours after you land, then a flight into Santa Maria airport the next morning. So, you could be there by Friday morning, our time."

"Ok, cool, can you also book motels?" I bet she can't. I will probably have to do it myself, and I am screwed if I would know how.

"Of course, there is the Santa Maria Motel in Vila Do Porto, that's very nice."

Well, she knows her stuff. Her tits are pushing against the stiff cotton material, threatening to bust out and spoil the rigidness of her uniform with their soft curves. I would love to ask her to come home with me right now.

Now, the tough question. "How much is it going to cost for the flight, stay for seven days and come home?" I could easily part her long, blonde, straight cut hair down the middle, using each side as reins, as I do it horsey style with her over the desk.

"$4,965 including..."

Blah, blah, blah... "Ok, do you have a card, so I can call you and book it in?"

She has a cheeky smile on her face, and I wonder what is running through her mind while she is writing. "Here you are, call me anytime, my home number is on the back."

How about after the next time my girlfriend and I have a fight? I wish I could spit that out, but it's too much trouble. "Thanks a lot, have a nice day. Talk to you soon."

* * *

Only two jobs to go. I like driving between jobs; it gives me a nice little break. If I worked in a factory, I wouldn't get a ten to twenty minute break every 30 to 50 minutes. I must look like a bit of an idiot, driving around smiling because I feel so privileged. The phone again... at least it's a message instead of a call this time.

From the girlfriend... maybe when I open it, the message will say 'hey lets go out tonight' or 'thinking about you' or 'I love you'.

So much for the smile, she's going to her mums now and won't be back until tomorrow afternoon. What's new, she is there every second weekend. Her years of distancing herself from me are really getting to me. I wonder if you can do damage to your eyes, rolling them too much.

Where's that card? I'm going to call the girl in the travel agency. A man can only take so much before he cracks. I'm going to tell her I want a ticket and a hotel booked and her underneath me. If she says no — who cares — I won't ever see her again, so no need for embarrassment. I could always buy the holiday elsewhere.

Not answering. Maybe she has gone home.

"Hello, Avoca Travel Agency, may I help you?"

What a clean cut, professional voice she has. "Hi, I was in there earlier on today, looking for info about Santa Maria island and..."

I usually can't stand when people cut me off, but she doesn't come across as rude -- in the way of manners anyway.

"I remember you, sexy. What can I do for you?"

"I would like you to book that holiday, with the flight leaving tomorrow morning." Even though part of my conscience is telling me to hang up right now, it feels right.

"No problems, can you stop back in this afternoon? I am just about to shut the shop, but I will wait for you."

I haven't been impressed by a womans demener — like I am with hers — in quite some time.

"I also have a confession to make." I can't believe I am doing this. My heart rate has doubled, this is not usually something I do.

"Yes?" Her tone is mischievous and inviting me to continue on.

"I couldn't stop staring at your ruby red lips while I was in the shop and wanted to kiss you." There it is, all out in the open, and my heart rate has dropped because I don't feel that she would make fun of me in any way.

"That might have even gotten you a discount. I tell you what, when you get here you can give me as big a kiss as you want. See you soon."

I can't get this stupid grin off my face. It feels like I'm driving a couple of inches off the road, and hovering a couple of inches over my seat. It's funny how you only feel like this when there is outrageous daring and risk involved. I can see why someone would get addicted to this feeling. It is such a contrast to the intense anger I was feeling five minutes ago.

It feels like stepping onto a blanket of air as I exit the car. Time has slowed and my steps seem to propel me a great deal further than usual. I head towards her door with the closed sign on it. I can feel a slight jump in my heart, as I realise the door is locked... It's ok, here she comes, wearing a devious smile.

"Hey." Her voice gives me the same sensation as a soft touch, as she opens the door.

"Hey," I reply. I can't take my eyes off her overly large, opal eyes, and my breathing is more distinctive than all the surrounding noises. I can feel all her thoughts, as I stare at the windows to her soul.

I need to feel the soft skin of her cheek in my hand as I kiss her. My breath is forced heavily from my mouth as I breathe out. I am soaking up copious amounts of oxygen and scents through my nose as I breathe in. A warm, loving feeling is creeping from my lips, like a slow wave through every atom in my body. I haven't felt anything close to this in years.

I'm almost in a dream-like state as she stands in front of me smiling. What a woman — attractive and sexual, but not superior or slutty.

"We better shut the door."

She makes a good point; I'm not even inside yet. It's not a bad view, with posters of beaches and magnificent sites from all around the world. Although right now, no particular surroundings could wipe the smile off my face.

"Where have you been hiding? How come you haven't walked into my life before?" She says as she walks towards me with an unflinching stare, her long hair flicking from side to side, in time with her hips.

"We'll worry about that later." Really, I want to tell her I should have found her years ago, and now that I'm here, I will never leave her.

Even though I want to fall in love with her, something deep tells me not to. I concentrate on the urge to feel her womanly body. She reaches me, pressing her body into mine. I grab her butt cheeks, pulling her even tighter against me. Her feet come up off the floor, and her legs wrap around me, her pelvis pressed tightly into mine. I can feel her breath — as heavy as mine — as we kiss.

I feel so strong; I could hold her here for days. Her breasts, wrapped tight in stretched white cotton are too enticing to ignore. Looking into her multi-coloured eyes, I feel her approval to unwrap the concealing cloth. My eyes make their way back down to her shirt, and I undo the first secured button in the centre of her bust.

With each button I open, I look back into her eyes. I don't want to lose that connection with her. Her shirt floats to the floor. Only the prominent curves of the inside of her breasts, and a black, lacy bra are left. A squeeze on the back of her bra unhooks the clasp, and I can finally expose her breasts. I grab the thin straps from her shoulders while looking her in the eyes. She looks just as eager to have her tits free as I do. She is inhaling and exhaling as if she has run a mile. I throw her bra to the floor.

I can't look her in the eyes anymore — her heaving breasts have mesmerised me. My fingers slide slowly around the side of one breast as I lower my head. My mouth is now on her tit, my tongue tracing circles over her nipples. I pull back and lap at her hard nipple, straight up and down, then put my mouth back on her, sucking hard and letting the stiff tip pop back out.

Her breasts move with the consistency of thick custard. I can't get enough of them, both get the same treatment: circle, lick, suck. I kiss my way up through her cleavage, along her collarbone, and slowly around her neck, before sucking her ear lobe. She lets out a soft moan.

I need to lay her down, to get better access to more of her body. I lay her on a clear desk. She props herself up on her elbows and I go back to work on her breasts. Her nipples point to the ceiling, coated in my saliva. I replace my mouth with my finger on her breasts, as my kisses trace their way over her stomach.

She exhales as I push her tight black skirt up to her waist. I hook my fingers over her g-string straps and slide them down over her thighs, knees, ankles, and then feet. She's looking at me as if gesturing to go ahead and taste her. Her pussy is perfectly trimmed and her lips have unfolded.

Kissing my way up her thighs, I can feel her body writhe. My hands work their way underneath her to hold her arse cheeks. It only takes a flex of my biceps to bring her to my mouth and taste her juice.

Licking from her opening to her clit, and looking at her while I suck the firm little bud, she can't maintain her gaze. Often her eyes distance themselves from our scene. She is cupping her tits and rubbing her nipples as I continue. Her juice is flowing more freely now and covering my chin, and the first couple of inches on the inside of her thighs.

I press wet kisses up her thigh, as I move around to the side. I plant my tongue on her clit and insert two fingers inside her. She can't stay still, as I slowly tease her with alternating penetration and licking. It doesn't get any easier for her to stay still as I increase the pace.

As soon as I start savouring her and moaning my approval, she really starts convulsing, so I hold her down at the hips to continue. I must be hitting her g-spot because her wetness is now soaking me with every thrust. Her breathing becomes a mixture of erratic gasps and blasting exhales, as she writhes in orgasmic bliss.

I kiss her as her wave is subsiding. What a rare beauty she is.

She steadily recovers, letting out a satisfied moan, and then says, "I need to taste you too." I unzip my pants, eager to accommodate her. She licks her lips when she sees me revealed, saying, "That's the best looking dick I've ever seen."

That's the best news I've heard all year.

She wraps her hand around my cock, holding it around its base tight as she slides it into her mouth.

It feels so good to have a woman look at you like she is in love with sucking you. It looks like every vein in my cock is pronounced, and the head cannot expand anymore. What a contrast it is with her gorgeous, innocent looking face staring up at me, with her mouth half way down my length. I have to feel myself inside her, so I reach down to lift her up and turn her around.

She stands up and turns, sultrily whispering, "Please fuck me handsome."

How could I say no when her legs are set like the sides of a triangle, with her wet, hairless pussy lips at the apex? She looks back at me with her stomach flat on the desk, and her hands holding her arse cheeks, further encouraging me.

I close my eyes as I slide into her, nice and slow, right in and right out — it feels like home. I can't hold back though, and a nice steady rhythm builds. My balls are soon grazing on the desk top. I could do this until my hips give way.

"Fuck me baby," she gasps.

With my hand on the small of her back, she doesn't have to ask twice. My short, sharp thrusts are getting quicker by the moment. Her arse is continually shaking, as my cock becomes a blur. Despite how wet she is, my swollen tool is burning, and it wants to deposit a mile of swimmers deep inside her.

She looks back at me and moans, "Oh baby, yes!"

The desk is rocking slightly as I squeeze her arse cheeks. I have to slow it down a bit, to stop myself from cumming. I give her a kiss on her back, and a squeeze of her right nipple while I slow down, right in and right out.

Who am I kidding? I need to fuck her hard.

"Fuck me hard!"

I guess I'm not the only one thinking that. I need to tighten up every muscle in my body to grant her wish and not cum. I reach out, grab her hair, and she lets out a sensual growl that lets me know she likes it. I could lift a car right now. She's getting wetter with each pound into her, and the blood is pulsing harder through my cock. My hips are slapping into her, and the desk is almost tipping over.

She suddenly growls out, "Fuck my arse!"

Now time is standing still. I have never fucked a girl in the arse before, and I don't know how I feel about it either, but no time to think about that now.

Time resumes as I slide into her arse. Both of us are moaning — loud primeval noises, coming from the animal within us.

I need to do this slow, but my hips won't let me. Neither of us can stop our wild bellows as I inch further into her. Her arse starts to relax, and that's my chance to speed up and cum.