Brad's Road Trip Ch. 19

"I know you never got the chance what with that distracting picture, but I'd still like to know the time."

I chuckled. "Actually, I did," I said. "It's a little after 4 o'clock. Why? Do you have somewhere to be? Need to get away from me that badly?"

I smiled and chuckled to let her know I was just being playful, but the thought of being apart from her, even for a few minutes, was extremely unpleasant.

"I do have somewhere to be, actually" she said. "The main concerts start a little after 5. I came all this way, and I don't want to miss the music. But I was hoping you'd watch with me, if you don't already have plans."

"Well, the President of the United States and the Pope are coming into town later, and they wanted me to watch the concerts with them," I deadpanned. "I'll have to tell them both that I got a better offer."

She snickered and playfully slapped me on the arm, before taking that same arm and allowing me to lead her off to wherever. We talked idly about our lives as we meandered around the fairgrounds. It turned out that the "all this way" Nicole had come was just Los Angeles, as she was studying abroad at UCLA for two semesters. School was out for the summer, and she'd tagged along with some friends who wanted to take a road trip.

In turn, I told her all about my own road trip. She was only a little bit familiar with most of the cities I'd visited - she'd heard of Chicago and Denver, and of course she knew where the Atlantic Ocean was - but she seemed fascinated by the idea of a huge, cross-country road trip in general. I left out just about all of the sordid details, but I was able to share some of the non-X-rated highlights. I mentioned the fight I'd tried to break up at the Brooks & Dunn concert in Indianapolis, I told her about getting my brother-in-law thrown in jail, and I talked about the fun I had playing wingman for a friend in Charleston. I told her about the four-grand slam game I'd witnessed in Alabama, thinking I would have to identify that particular sport, too, but she surprised me by having a least a little bit of knowledge of the game.

I went on to tell her a little about what I'd done in the Marines, and I described very briefly some of the trips I'd had to take overseas.

"Well, thanks for your service."

I was taken a little aback.

"Uh, you're welcome, but I wasn't exactly serving your country."

"I know," she said, "but you were serving yours, which is admirable for anyone. Anyway, I'm sure there are some assholes over here who wouldn't be willing to say thanks even though you were serving their country, so I'll say it for them."

"More than you know," I said. "And thanks."

"Besides," she said, laughing. It was an awesome sound that I wanted to stop shortly after never. "Australia and the US are allies, right? So, yeah, in a way, you were serving my country."

We wandered around for a little while longer, slowly circling our way toward the concert area. We made small talk here and there, but mostly we just held hands and enjoyed being in each other's presence. Neither of us wanted to go back to our campsites, but we didn't want to sit directly on the grass either, so we bought a blanket from one of the merchandise tables. About five minutes before the concerts started, we found a spot near the front of the lawn and spread it out.

We'd just gotten settled in, with her sitting in front of me between my legs, when the first major band of the evening, Little Big Town, started their set. They only had one major hit song out, called "Boondocks," but Nicole sang along to it. I was content to listen to her voice, but after they finished, I asked her about it.

"You guys listen to a lot of country music in Australia?" I asked.

"A lot of people are catching onto it now, yeah," she replied. "We've always had a pretty big Australian country music scene. Keith Urban is Australian, of course, but they didn't really play him much back home until he got big in America. And then he married Nicole Kidman last year..."

"And I'm guessing he blew up like a fireworks stand," I said.

"Pretty much," she agreed.

"I've always liked his music, and of course, his wife is pretty attractive. You know what I like most about her, though?"

She just looked the question at me.

"Her name."

Her face showed confusion for just a second, but then it registered, and her lips turned up in a big smile. I quickly covered them with my own, and we spent the next few minutes putting on a public display of affection for anyone who might have been watching.

We were sweating when we pulled apart, and it wasn't just because of the heat. The heat was a major bitch, though, and I was about to suggest a beer run, but she somehow read my mind and came up with a better idea. She dug into her shoulder bag and produced a tube of sunscreen. She offered it to me with her eyebrows raised, and the look on her face told me that the idea was definitely not for me to put it on myself.

"That is a great idea," I said. The sun had been baking both of us for hours, and while I'd slathered some on after my shower, I'd long since sweated it off. "But I think I need to let you go first."

"Oh, really?" she asked.

"You see, the thing is, I get a little clumsy with these things," I said, taking the tube from her and squeezing some into her hands. "I'm a little uncoordinated and not very good with my hands, and, you know.. it might just take me an hour to finish the job. Maybe even longer."

She moaned very quietly, then rubbed her hands together.

"And by that time, I might look like a lobster," I finished.

"Yeah, right," she said. "You just want me to touch you."

"That, too," I said. She started with my legs, her fingertips tracing the contours of my calf muscles as she worked her way up. My shorts covered much more of my thighs than hers did, so there wasn't much left when she got above my knees. She jumped up to my upper body, starting with my forearms then travelling under my sleeves and mapping out the muscle definition in my biceps and shoulders. She traced the design of my tattoo with one delicate finger then moved up to my face, spending a few minutes on my face covering every square inch with lotion and ensuring it was absorbed into my skin. By the time she reached the back of my neck, it was more of a massage than sunburn prevention.

"There," she whispered into my ear. "All done."

"Ooh," I said. "That means it's my turn." I took the tube away from her and squirted a liberal amount of sunscreen into my hands.

"I think that means it's my turn," she said with a grin. "And I'm going to enjoy this like you wouldn't believe."

"Probably not as much as I will," I replied.

She was still turned toward me, so I started with her face. I pushed several stray, sticky strands of her hair away as I rubbed her forehead and took special care to massage her temples before I moved south. I mimicked my earlier movements, brushing my thumbs along her cheeks as if I was wiping away invisible tears. I used just my pinky to apply lotion between her eyes, down the bridge of her nose and on the narrow strip of skin between her nose and upper lip. Before I moved below her chin, I leaned in and kissed those succulent lips for a few moments.

Nicole moaned into my mouth, and she would have gotten her tongue involved if I hadn't pulled away.

"How did the sunscreen taste?" she asked, a smile playing on her freshly-kissed lips.

"Not bad," I said. In truth, it had tasted awful, of course, but— "If that's the price I have to pay to kiss you, it's a fucking steal."

Whatever she might have said in response was cut off by my fingertips, which started under her left ear and continued down her jawline until I was just beneath her right. I was especially gentle beneath her chin and on her neck, but I couldn't resist planting several feathery kisses along her windpipe.

I pushed the spaghetti straps off her shoulders and rubbed outward from her neck until my hands were on her upper arms. On another day, in a different situation with a different woman, I might have asked permission, but I really - really - wanted unfettered access to her skin, and I figured she'd be okay with me taking charge. She just smiled and moaned slightly when my fingers dug into the soft flesh between her collarbones and her ample chest. Without the straps to hold it up, the green top sagged, affording me an excellent view of the cleavage spilling out of her bra.

I worked my way down her triceps and forearms then went back up on the undersides of her arms, through the crooks of her elbows and across her biceps until I was again at her shoulders. I jumped inward to her chest, rubbing lotion on both sides of the tanline where her halter top began. As much as I wanted to keep my hands moving south, I was still vaguely aware that there were other people around, and besides - I was genuinely interested in exploring every single inch of her, not just the parts they emphasized in porn.

I pulled the straps back onto her shoulders so her top would again be supported, before I pulled the bottom seam of her shirt underneath her breasts. I spent at least 10 minutes kneading her stomach. It wasn't a washboard or a six-pack by any means, but I could feel her abs rippling under the skin. I tried my best not to tickle her, attempting to find the sweet spot between too little pressure and too much. Her face was a mixture of serenity and happiness - her eyes were closed and she was drawing slow, deep breaths, but a huge smile split her lips.

Her legs were next, and if I didn't know any better, I'd tell you I spent a few days massaging them. I vaguely remembered thinking that Marie, the brunette I'd slept with in Pittsburgh a week or so ago so that my friend - her boyfriend - could win a bet, had the best legs in the Milky Way galaxy, but I was sorely mistaken. Marie was taller, so of course her legs were longer, but Nicole's were just better, even if by the smallest of margins.

Somewhere in the back of my conscience, I recognized that the next band had taken the stage, but I couldn't have cared less. It could have been Garth Brooks, Willie Nelson and George Jones playing a one-time only concert on that stage, and I wouldn't have let it distract me from this goddess' body.

I liberally coated her thighs with lotion, even slipping my fingertips a few inches under her shorts, but I passed on the opportunity to push the fabric farther up her legs, figuring I would have plenty of time for that later. I repeated the same motions on the underside of her legs, but this time, the few inches I pushed under shorts granted me access to the lower part of her ass. I groaned when I felt how tight yet pliable her cheeks were, and she giggled.

Her calves, though... holy shit. They were among the first things I'd noticed about her when we met in the ice cream line, and my hands could definitely confirm what my eyes had suspected. They were firm and muscular, leading me to believe she had some sort of athletic background, but they were still soft and feminine. I'd always considered the lower legs to be one of the sexiest parts of a woman, and Nicole's were basically the perfect specimen off which all others should be created.

Again, I couldn't help myself. I raised her closest leg up and trailed several slow, tongue-filled kisses from her knee all the way down to her ankle, drawing a few gasps from her along the way. I was aware that an outside audience might consider what I was doing to be lewd and inappropriate, but unless one of them was holding a badge and specifically told me to stop, I wasn't going to.

When I finished the process on her other leg and set it down, Nicole's face had morphed from her earlier look of content relaxation to one of intense concentration. Her face was a deep, deep red - and I knew I'd done a good job with the sunscreen, so it wasn't a burn - and her breathing had quickened considerably.

For my part, this reverent worship of her legs had kept my cock as hard as a steel rod, and I again had to resist the urge to crawl on top of her and ravage her until Grand Junction's finest carted me off to jail. I hadn't lost sight of my objective, though - there was still a whole other side of her upper body I hadn't tended to yet.

"Come here, pretty lady," I said, beckoning her toward me with a crooked finger. She shifted her hips toward me until she was settled between my legs with her back against my chest. She leaned her head back and looked up at me, and we descended into yet another round of intense tonsil acrobatics. My hands roamed all over her stomach while hers rubbed up and down my legs. Her ass was nestled tight against my cock. They say innovation is born out of necessity, and I briefly wondered if my cock wouldn't suddenly figure out how to cut through fabric in order to get to her.

"Fuck," she moaned when we broke apart, and I was momentarily taken aback. She said it with a heat and intensity level that I'd only heard from one other person, but I'd heard it from that other person hundreds of times over the past two weeks. Thoughts of Kelly clouded my mind suddenly, and I was filled with shame and guilt over what I was doing right now.

"Brad?" Nicole asked. "Are you forgetting something?" She shrugged her shoulders to remind me I still had some parts of her to finish off. I looked into her eyes, and while I have no idea what she saw in mine, I saw in hers a raging inferno that threatened to leap out and singe my soul. I wasn't scared, per se, but for the first time in a long time, I was intimidated by a woman.

"Please," she begged. Her voice was very plaintive, as if she'd read my mind, understood my hesitation, but wanted me to continue anyway. She didn't use any of the cheap, stereotypical persuasive devices the fairer sex was known for - there were no puppy dog eyes or batting of the eyelashes. She just gazed into my eyes, trying to convince me using sheer force of will.

And as I stared back at her, I knew I was basically powerless to deny her anything.

I pushed her head down and kissed her behind the ear.

"Oh, God," she moaned. My mouth moved down her neck to her shoulder, and I used my nose to push her hair out of the way as I moved across her back to the other shoulder. My hands were busy, as I was trying to put more sunscreen on them without tearing my eyes away from her body.

Nicole pulled her hair around to the front side of her body, giving me unrestricted access to her shoulders and neck. I moved slowly and deliberately, taking at least 15 minutes to cover her slender neck and shoulders with lotion. Her muscles were tight across her upper back, so while I was genuinely trying to prevent sunburn, I was also trying to massage out her knots.

She grunted and groaned as I hit different spots, alternating between light pressure and deep-tissue kneading when the situation called for it.

"Jesus, woman," I muttered. "What summer classes are you taking at UCLA? You're incredibly tight."

"That's just me," she answered back. "I'm tight everywhere."

I caught the double meaning, and replied by running my fingertips under her armpits. She giggled and squirmed away from my tickling.

I moved to her lower back, noticing for the first time the tattoo that started there before disappearing under her shorts. The part I could see was a small blue butterfly, with some fancy curved lines protruding out from either side in an intricate pattern that continued below her waist.

"Very sexy," I muttered into her ear as I rubbed lotion all over it. She groaned back a thank you. I slowly moved upward, pushing her shirt up above her bra strap. Using the same "forgiveness-over-permission" principle as earlier, I swiftly unclasped the bra, exposing her entire back to me. She gasped when she felt it come loose.

"Naughty boy," she said, and I could almost feel her smiling. She didn't stop me, though, so I worked my way up toward her shoulders, paying special attention the area where her bra had been. When I reached her bunched-up shirt, I moved back down her spine with two fingers, outline each vertebra when I came to it.

Finally, I turned my palms outward and pushed both under the waistband of her shorts, giving the upper portion of her ass the same attention the lower portion had received earlier. When I was finished, I pulled her back against me and put my chin on her shoulder. She purred contently, while I relived the entire episode in my mind.

Simply put, massaging Nicole's body was a fucking religious experience.

I was competitive at heart, so I'd been keeping a running leaderboard in my head, ranking all the women I'd encountered on my trip thus far. There was the one for overall sexiness, but there were also ones for different parts of the body - best ass, best tits, best legs, etc. Call me crass if you want, but it was just a way of keeping track in a way that made sense to me, and really, I was splitting hairs with most of them because every woman I'd been with was hot.

Those internal rankings were useless now. Nicole was at the top of every single one of them, and I hadn't even seen all of her body yet.

Sometime during my massage, the band had finished playing, and we were now waiting for the next artist to come out. Jason Aldean would be the last opener for Trace Adkins, and though he only had a few songs on the radio, it seemed to me that he might turn into a huge superstar down the road.

A few minutes later, he came out and played for maybe 45 minutes. I just held Nicole throughout, as we sang along to the songs we knew and listened to the ones we didn't. He finished up his set and was finally taking the sun with him. It wasn't quite past the horizon yet, but it was no longer threatening to boil us all like lobsters.

"You want to come with me to get a couple beers, and maybe some food?" I asked her.

"I would, but I think I'm just going to run to the toilet then come back to the blanket," she said. "My body is still buzzing from what you did to me, Brad."

"It was my pleasure," I said. "You want anything to eat?"

"Yeh, I am a little hungry," she said. "Surprise me?"

I nodded and watched her walk toward the bathrooms before I headed off to the food trucks. As Trace Adkins was about to sing to us in a little bit, I hated to see her go, but loved watching her leave.

The food lines were long, so it took me the better part of the break to get two beers, two plates of nachos and two hamburgers. When I got back to the concert area, I stopped short when I saw our blanket.

Nicole was still sitting on it, but she had company. Familiar company, at that.

"Fancy meeting you two here," I said, and Nicole, Chad and Janine looked up at me. I was instantly nervous - no one knew everything I'd been up to at this particular festival better than Chad and Janine, and spilling any part of it could piss off Nicole and wreck my universe. I knew Chad wouldn't say anything, and I was hoping Janine would have a fellow Marine's back, too.

I was also genuinely interested in how they'd come to be here with Nicole, when I hadn't introduced her to anyone I knew.

"Brad, I, um, met your friends," Nicole said.

"I see that," I said, handing her a beer and putting the food on the ground in front of her. "Question is, how did you know they were my friends?"

"She didn't," Janine said. "We found her."

"Was at the Marine tent waiting for her a while ago," Chad said, motioning toward Janine. "Saw you two walking around holding hands. Didn't think anything of it, but I noticed."

"We were walking toward the front, but Chad saw her sitting here by herself getting harassed by two guys," Janine said.

"Thought she might still be with you, so we came over to check," Chad said.

My face must have flashed in anger, because Nicole tried to calm me down immediately. "I was fine, Brad. They were just trying to get me to come with them. I kept telling them I was here with someone."