Deep Dive Pt. 05

Author's Note: This story picks up directly from Deep Dive (Part 4).

*****

It was now mid-March, and we were returning home from a month in Bali.

During the first week of our trip, we'd focused our attention totally on Michelle, trying to pack as much as we could into seven short days.

After she'd returned home to Switzerland, the next three weeks in Ubud had settled into a comfortable routine for Kate and I. Sleep in, make love, sleep some more, explore Ubud, and then make love again. It was a calm, unstructured time: no schedules, no pressures.

Our fight back from Bali flew via Manila to San Francisco. Arriving at SFO to catch our final connection to Vancouver, we were told the flight had been cancelled. We'd need to lay over in San Francisco for the night, until another flight was available.

As we walked away from the customer service desk to find a hotel, I had a thought. In my late twenties and early thirties, I'd made the drive from Vancouver to the Baja peninsula many times. One of my favourite parts of the journey was the 200-mile stretch of Highway 1 between San Francisco in the south, and Rockport in the north.

With the ocean on one side and empty rolling hills on the other, the route passes through some of the most beautiful places imaginable: Point Reyes, Bodega Bay, Mendocino. This part of California had always held a special place in my heart - it reminded me of a time when life's opportunities still seemed limitless.

Turning to Kate I said, "I have an idea..."

"Uh-oh," she responded, smiling. We stopped walking through the terminal and looked at each other.

"Instead of catching the flight to Vancouver tomorrow, why don't we stretch the trip for a few more days, rent a car, and drive home instead?"

"Drive?" she exclaimed.

"Sure! The coast is incredible. You've never done Highway 1, have you? Really amazing."

Kate looked at me, uncertain. "Can we make it back by Sunday? I'm on a shoot next week..." Kate worked as a top-end stylist at a chichi salon in Vancouver, and did a lot of contract work on the side in the city's film and TV business.

I quickly did the calculations in my head. Today was Wednesday. It would take the rest of the afternoon to get to Mendocino. Lay over there for a day. Another day's drive to Newport in Oregon, and then home to Vancouver. Maybe four days tops. No problem.

"Deal," I said. Taking Kate by the hand, we changed direction, and headed to the car rental counter.

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We drove in a rented Audi convertible - through the Presidio, over the Golden Gate Bridge, and then left onto Highway 1 at Marin.

The city dropped behind the hills and, more quickly than I remembered, we were in open country again. We reached the coast at Muir Beach, and turned north.

While the spring weather was still cool, it was warm in the sun. We put on windbreakers and drove with the car's top down, breathing in the sharp sea air. Kate looked completely in her element: gorgeous, her hair blowing in the wind, gazing wide-eyed at the incredible vistas as we sped up the empty winding highway.

We drove, comfortable together in our silence, listening to an old Jackson Browne mix. I thought back over the seven months that we'd been together. Although we had what Kate referred to as an "unfettered" relationship - open to bringing in other sex partners - what had developed between us felt strong, and deep, and certain.

Perhaps she really is the one after all, I thought.

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We reached Mendocino about three hours later, just as the sun was settling low over the ocean. It was going to be a stunning sunset. Pulling up in the centre of town, we parked, got out of the car, and stretched.

Mendocino seemed almost completely unchanged since I'd last been there. Perched on high bluffs over the ocean, it was like stepping back fifty years to a much quieter time. The town breathed history, and was incredibly peaceful. Kate looked completely smitten.

She grinned hugely. "So lovely," she said, turning a slow 360 and taking it all in.

After wandering around the main street for thirty minutes, we picked up some bottles of chilled Tavel at the local wine store, some bread, cheese and antipasti at the market, and headed off to the house.

Kate had managed to book a small, cliff-side cottage on Airbnb while we were driving up the coast. The place was situated off on its own, near the Mendocino Headlands. Built back in the 1930's, it was a small jewel of Craftsman design. Painted a vibrant yellow with white trim, its covered front porch looked straight out at the ocean.

We walked into the house, and were equally taken with the inside. Worn wooden floors, comfortable cottage furniture, a stone fireplace, and a small bright kitchen open to the living room. A spacious, old-fashioned bathroom was attached to the kitchen, and the entire second floor served as a loft bedroom. It was perfect. Kate couldn't have done better.

"You sure you don't want to stay an extra few days?" I asked.

"I wish," Kate replied wistfully, looking around. "But work calls..."

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Bags unpacked, Kate headed off to the bathroom for a soak in the antique claw-foot tub. She sang softly to herself as it filled with steaming water, and added some lavender gel that immediately foamed up into huge billows. It scented the entire house. Nice, I thought.

While I prepared the bread and cheese, I watched her through the open bathroom door as she disrobed. Now barefoot, she dropped her knee-length skirt to the floor, and pulled her cotton top off over her head. Standing with her back to me, I admired her beautiful long legs, a perfect bum wrapped in tiny white lace panties, and the sexiest back I'd ever seen. She was just flawless.

She reached down, bending over slightly as she slipped off her underwear. Her ass and cleft were in full view. My cock stirred, as it always did when I saw her naked.

Stepping lithely into the tub, she turned, grabbed the high rim on either side, and slowly eased herself down into the water.

"Mmmm," she moaned, gratefully. "Jesus."

Two minutes later, I walked into the bathroom with the wine and food laid out on a wooden cutting board. I placed the board on a small wicker table, and sat on the rim of the tub, looking down at Kate.

She was lying, almost submerged, in a huge pile of lavender suds, with only her head and shoulders visible. Eyes closed, she had a look of pure bliss on her face. She hummed quietly to herself.

She suddenly twitched, and let out a tiny peep. "Hot water always makes me so damn... hot," she murmured, opening her eyes and staring directly at me. She twitched again. I could see the tower of foam floating over her lower body tremor for a second, and then start jiggling repeatedly.

"Sooo..." she sang, "I just have to do something about it."

She drew her knees up out of the water, and spread them slightly apart. "Like... now," she finished, looking at me slyly.

Knowing that I loved to watch her, Kate quickly abandoned all pretense. I pushed away the suds with a sweep of my hand as she spread her legs even wider. The index finger of one hand was slowly circling her clit, while the other hand was gently stroking two fingers up and down between her labia, slowly zeroing in on her opening.

"Oh yes yes yes..." she whispered happily, closing her eyes again and concentrating on her pussy.

Almost bursting in my jeans, I stood up, shucked off my shirt, and dropped my pants to the floor. Commando as usual, my cocked poked firmly out into the air. I took myself in hand and began slowly pumping my shaft, fixating on her busy fingers.

Hearing the steady rhythm of my jacking, Kate opened her eyes, and looked happily at the rigid cock being fondled less than a foot away from her. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips and said, "Step closer."

I moved up beside the tub, not missing a stroke.

"In my mouth," Kate whispered. "I want you in my mouth." Her hands were now much more busy, causing small waves of soapy water to slosh back and forth in the tub.

She opened her mouth slightly and leaned towards me, now only an inch away from my glans. She flicked her tongue in invitation. I moved my hips towards her, and eased my prick gently in between her lips.

As she swirled her tongue around me, the pace of her masturbating sped up and she began uttering small, stifled groans. Against my own will, I started pumping myself harder - I was anxious not to come too soon, but just couldn't stop myself.

"Mmmff... unhh..." Kate huffed, and started flicking the fingers of her right hand over her clit. Raising one foot up over the side of the tub, her labia opened apart, and she eagerly began sliding the two middle fingers of her left hand in and out of her opening. She was now working herself in earnest. I hadn't seen her this excited since Michelle first went down on her in Bali.

Pulling away from my cock, her face flushed from the hot water and the excitement, she looked up at me and panted, "When... soon? Soon?"

I nodded, grunting as my jacking sped up almost to a blur.

"Yes..." she said, "In my mouth... my mouth..." She wrapped her lips around me again, and began sliding them eagerly up and down my shaft. I couldn't hold back any longer.

"Ahhh... cumming... fuck... cumming," I chanted, and spurted into her mouth.

Whipping her head off my cock as I came, I watched white spunk spin from her lips down into the water. She threw her head back in ecstasy; eyes squeezed shut, my semen glistening on her lips. She seemed almost frantic now, her hands moving in a frenzy over her pussy.

"Mmmm. Christ. Fuck. Fuuckk," she cried, grimacing as her orgasm took hold. A small, high-pitched sound came from her, and she went completely silent as her body spasmed forward.

After what seemed like an eternity, she relaxed back into the hot water, opened her eyes, and looked at me intently. She looked like she was on the verge of saying something profound.

"Ummm... could I have some cheese, please?" she joked, giggling like a little girl.

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Later that evening, we walked into town to find a place for dinner. It was Kate's turn to choose, and we ended up settling on... a dive joint.

Nate's Bar and Grille occupied the ground floor of an old clapboard building at the wrong end of a Mendocino side street. As we approached, Otis Taylor's Hey Joe echoed out through the half-open front door. An ancient neon Schlitz sign hung in the front window, flickering fitfully. I suspected that Nate's solid on-line reputation wasn't based solely on its curb appeal.

Stepping inside was like being transported back to 1952. Dimly lit. Mustard-coloured walls covered in memorabilia. Scuffed floors, scuffed tables - scuffed everything. There didn't seem to be a thing in there that wasn't at least 50 years old, except for the trance blues playing over the speakers, and the young wait-staff.

The customers were a completely mixed bag: mostly locals, with a few people thrown in from Fort Bragg. Everyone seemed to know everyone, and everyone seemed to be getting along. We loved it.

As the night progressed, the music got louder. Kate and I were having a blast, making up for lost time after four 'dry' weeks in Bali. Now, instead of Bintang beer, we were drinking Tito's on the rocks, and getting hammered much faster than we realized.

By midnight, the place had pretty much emptied out. The music had dropped back down, with JJ Cale playing quietly in the background. Kate and I were still seated at the bar.

The bartender, Jacob, had taken a shine to Kate, and Kate was definitely taking a shine to him - one that seemed to grow stronger with every shot of Tito's. He was in his mid-thirties, looked like he occasionally worked the fishing boats, and had a dry sense of humour.

Only one waitress - Megan - was still on duty. She was in her late twenties, petite but shapely, with auburn hair and large brown eyes. She was very pretty, but seemed quite shy. I don't think she'd said 'boo' all evening.

By 12:15 a.m., the place was empty except for Kate and me. With a nod from Jacob, Megan turned off the Schlizt light in the window, and pulled down the blind on the front door.

"Great," Jacob said. "Another day done. Now it's our turn."

He poured four shots of Writers' Tears whiskey, placed two in front of us, and slid one down to Megan, who was now sitting with us at the bar.

For the next hour or so, the four of us talked surface stuff. Music, US politics, Mendocino. Megan continued to be quite reserved, but opened up when she heard that I'd worked overseas as a freelance photographer. Photography was a passion of hers, apparently. Jacob and Kate's conversation, on the other hand, just continued to get more and more lively. There was definitely a connection there.

By 2 a.m., with the help of the whiskey, we were all the best of friends.

At 3 a.m., we all called it a night. Promising Jacob and Megan that we'd drop by again the next evening, Kate and I wove our way home to the cottage. Kate seemed happy, almost exhilarated.

When we got home, we both stripped where we stood, crawled straight into bed, and fell dead asleep in seconds.

Some time later, just before dawn, I woke to a faint sound coming from Kate's side of the bed. I lay there, pretending to still be asleep, and listened. The bed was shaking slightly, and her moans were slowly getting louder.

Suddenly, she gasped, and the shaking stopped. She'd just brought herself off: a nice, gentle orgasm to finish the night.

I lay there, thinking back over the evening at Nate's. Something was definitely in the wind.

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The next morning we slept late, much the worse for wear from the night before.

"Ack," Kate groaned as she sat up in bed, gently rubbing her forehead. "Jesus."

She slowly clambered to her feet, threw on a sarong, and gingerly stepped downstairs. I heard her fill the kettle and put it on the stove. The shower started in the downstairs bathroom.

A few minutes later, I pulled myself together enough to sit up in bed. My head literally pounded. Way too much whiskey, I thought. Fuck. I badly needed coffee.

Heading down to the kitchen, I glanced into the bathroom to see Kate, still naked, leaning over the sink and staring in the mirror. "Christ," she mumbled at her reflection, "You look like crap." I didn't agree, but kept silent, still fighting my own case of distiller's flu. I slowly sipped on my coffee, wondering if we had any aspirin.

She stepped into the kitchen in her bathrobe a minute later, looking as well put-together as ever. She had the amazing ability to rebound quickly from any kind of excess, and today was no exception.

"Morning," she chirped, smiling.

"Mmmm," I replied. I wasn't ready to form words yet.

"Poor baby," Kate said. "What you need is some sunshine, some exercise, and some fresh air."

Half an hour later, we were dressed and out of the house. We spent the rest of the morning exploring the Mendocino Headlands, hiking along the grassy bluffs and down the steep pathways to the ocean. It was a beautiful, brisk day: clear blue skies and a light breeze.

We both felt much better by noon, and walked back into town for something to eat. We spent the rest of the day exploring Mendocino: visiting the shops, admiring the architecture, and standing on the high cliffs, gazing out at the ocean.

Heading back to the house around five o'clock, we decided to kip down for bit, still feeling off-centre from last night. I stretched out on the couch in the living room, and Kate headed upstairs to the bed.

About half an hour later, I woke once again to the familiar sound of Kate masturbating. This time, she wasn't keeping her moans down, and was clearly enjoying herself. Two minutes later, the noises suddenly stopped. She sighed deeply, and was silent again. Jacob - or maybe Megan - has really got her going, I thought.

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At around 7 p.m., Kate came downstairs, now fully dressed. She was wearing a sheer floral print dress that fit her like a glove, and had her hair pinned up loosely off her neck. She was a knockout.

"Dinner?" she asked.

I was lying on the couch, the remnants of my hangover still throbbing softly behind my eyes.

"Nnnnn," I replied noncommittally.

"Still not feeling great?"

"Nnnnn," I said again.

"Oh." She looked disappointed.

"Why don't you take the car, drive into town, and grab something?" I suggested. "I think I'm just going to lie here and ache."

She hesitated, clearly not wanting to have dinner on her own.

"Are you sure?"

"Totally. Why don't you go back to Nate's? You pretty much know everybody there now, so you won't really be eating on your own."

She brightened at the suggestion, but still looked unconvinced.

Finally, understanding that I really wasn't interested in eating, Kate said, "OK... a drink, a quick dinner, and I'll be back by nine."

"Mmmm," I replied, letting myself drift back towards sleep. Somehow I doubted she'd be home by nine...

A minute later, I heard the car start up and drive away towards town. Rolling onto my side, I dropped back off to sleep.

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I woke up around midnight to a silent house. Jesus, five hours? I thought. I haven't slept like that in years.

I looked around. The house was dead silent. Kate obviously wasn't back yet.

I got up, showered, poured myself a glass of wine, and grabbed some bread and cheese from the counter. After a sleep, a wash and some food, I was feeling halfway human again.

The house was chilly in the March night. I got a fire going, put on some Chet Baker, and settled down with a book to wait for Kate.

Around 1 a.m., I heard the car crunching up the gravel driveway. And her she is... I thought.

I heard two women talking as they walked towards the house. One was Kate, but I couldn't place the other voice. And then I heard Jacob's laugh. Ah - Jacob and Megan. Kate had brought company.

The front door opened, and they walked into the house.

Surprisingly, Kate appeared to be almost stone cold sober. She'd obviously behaved herself tonight. Good thing, I thought, or she'd be a complete wreck tomorrow...

"Hey!" Kate called out; glad to see I was still up. She came over and gave me a big kiss on the lips. "I brought guests!" She looked positively radiant.

Megan and Jacob stepped further into the living room, looking slightly awkward. I noticed they'd both changed out of their bar clothes.

Jacob was definitely Mendocino-casual. Tall and lean, he was wearing an old flannel shirt and well-worn khaki pants. He looked like a much younger version of the Marlboro Man. I could see why Kate was interested in him.

Megan, on the other hand, looked completely different from the shy waitress we'd met last night. Dressed in a tight black skirt and a matching stretch top, she was stunning. Lovely ass, nice full breasts... maybe a bit "Goth" for my taste, but beautiful nevertheless.

Kate looked at me, and quietly raised her eyebrows. So? I could see her thinking. I nodded slightly, and smiled.

And once again we go exploring, I thought. My prick tingled slightly.

"Uhh... I hope it isn't too late. Kate said we were welcome to come back for a nightcap..." Jacob stammered.