Take a Hike

They started to walk towards the car. "There must be something we can do. Maybe involving that dick."

"Goodness! I am offended... that it took you so long to bring it up."

--

That surgeon really put Rosie through her paces. Those knowledgeable, strong hands worked wonders, and Rosie felt so much better. Rosie had a slight thing for doctors ever since they'd made a connection with a futa physician who took her vacations at the houses, starting her stay with a rudimentary checkup for all the current residents. During that time, and that time only, was she allowed to wear her long coat in the house. She wore nothing under it, of course.

It was that allowance that helped Rosie argue to the others that she should be allowed to wear her cloak on walks, to avoid her getting another bad sunburn. The cloak would not help her avoid heatstroke, so she would also try to take walks only at times where the sun would be at her back, maximizing how much direct sunlight would land on the cloak. Rosie had not had a complete uninterrupted walk since that first day with Jessie. Perhaps it was because the red cloak drew so much attention, perhaps it was just luck.

Rosie hung her cloak on the wall-mounted coat rack with most of its pegs missing. This was a feature of the original house that obviously saw little use other than this. She entered the first floor bathroom, the door wide open but the shower running. Julie was in there, attractive white suds all over her nude body.

"Pardon me, Julie." Rosie walked in behind her and took her preferred bath wash and loofah out of the rack at the back of the shower.

Julie turned towards her. "Could I convince you to stay?" She asked, the suds washing away, water droplets scattering off her large breasts.

"Not right now. I'll just use the tub. You know how much Kitty loves the smell of strawberries."

"She could learn to love the smell of..." Julie looked at the bottle of shampoo. Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. "Head and Shoulders 2-in-1? Who has dandruff here?"

"I think it was on sale."

She walked back out through the living room. Simona was at the foot of the couch, as she often did. Crystal's feet were soaking in a stout plastic bucket. She pulled them out and set them on a folded towel on the coffee table. Simona took another soft towel and dried them off, bringing her lips close to her toes and blowing at them.

"You going to keep that foot out of your mouth this time?"

Simona ignored her, continuing to focus on the work at hand. These women should feel lucky that she knew what she was doing. Walking everywhere could be devastating to nail health if they didn't have her to maintain them all with the precision of a gardener trimming a topiary. How she wished that everyone would line up along the couch, they she could do each step in turn like an assembly line. But that would be a breach of sanitation procedure, so she instead kept her focus on one customer at a time.

'The tub' Rosie had referenced was a stainless steel basin just big enough to sit or stand in that wast just outside the house, near the now empty pool. Removing her shoes and socks, she stepped inside and turned on the hose, setting the sprayer to its gentle 'shower' setting. She soaked her whole body, washing the small bit of sweat she accrued on her short trip. She turned the hose off, added a pink dollop of body wash to her loofah, and gently scrubbed her body with it.

"How was the walk?" Asked a voice.

Rosie started a bit, having previously assumed that she was alone.Mary was sitting just beyond the nearly empty clotheslines. She sat on a piano stool, a small towel draped over the seat. She had a slightly rickety looking desktop easel on a TV tray. The canvas was slowly being transformed into a watercolor facsimile of the desert mountains in the distance. She had a disposable plastic coffee cup as her brush water.

"You want me to pose?" Rosie grinned, rinsing herself with a gentle spray from the hose.

"I'll need to get better with watercolors before I even try to paint anything as lovely as you."

"Flattery will get me hard..." Rosie stepped out of the basin and towards Mary. "That's looking really good."

"I really hope it turns out good enough to sell." Mary said. "We don't really need a painting of what we can see through our window."

Rosie pulled the last towel hanging from the clothesline and used it to dry herself. Towels that were dried in the desert air always had an unpleasant stiffness, but the majority of futa living here would rather their bed sheets went through the dryer and got the delicate treatment, as they touched those for much much longer than the towels.

"Don't worry about the financial part. Just paint because you want to."

"I know... I just want to contribute my fair share."

"You do plenty already." Rosie put her hand on Mary's shoulder. "Just paint because you want to paint."

Rosie looked to the cups Mary was using for the rinse water. She recognized the brand of coffee shop they had come from.

"Where did you get those cups?" She asked.

"I think Kitty put them in recycling. But I rescued them."

Rosie paused. "That's interesting." She said softly. "But it's good to use it if we've got it."

"That was my thinking." Mary said. "I don't drink coffee, so this makes certain that I won't accidentally drink from the paint water."

Rosie had finished drying herself off, the arid desert air doing its part. She threw the towel back over the clothesline to dry again and returned into the house.

She walked past the couches to get to the staircase. Now, Simona held Crystal's foot with one hand, alternating kisses between Crystal's big toe and the ball of her foot. Crystal panted vocally as she whacked herself off.

Rosie walked right past the spectacle. Thank God those two found each other, she thought. How nice it was to find someone so like you.

In the last eighteen months split between the houses, she had met more futa than she ever had in her life. All of them were different, from Rosie and Mary's art, to Maggie's suet bird feeders, to Julie's menagerie of claw machine plushes, to Crystal's retro video games, to Michelle's crossword puzzles, to Veronica's true crime fascination... to Anna's inexplicable love of porn starring skinny white dudes. It was hard to find two futa who were that much alike.

Rosie stopped at the empty doorway. Jessie was sitting on the mattress at the back corner of the room, reading a book. She didn't look that much different from when they first met. Instead of the office togs, heels and stocking she first wore, all she wore were a pair of well-worn sneakers, socks and a belly chain around her waist. Her hair, previously straightened, had returned to much more natural curls that tickled her shoulders.

They were perhaps not as visibly different as they could be. Rosie never believed in 'opposites attract,' either. She just loved this babe so much.

Clapping her book shut as she saw her, Jessie jumped up and hugged her.

"Hey, Kitty." Rosie grinned.

"Hey, Red." Said Jessie.

They kissed.

"That must be a sexy book. You're already so hard."

"Been like that since I heard you over the radio. I've missed you."

"I missed you, too."

Rosie wanted to throw her down onto that mattress and do all the stuff to her that she did to that surgeon, and have Jessie do all the stuff to her that the surgeon couldn't do to her. They were great together, choosing each other more than any of the other cornucopia of dicks to which they had access.

And yet...

"Jessie..." She stepped back. "Mary was painting downstairs, and she had these plastic cups from a coffee shop, and she said she got them from you."

Jessie had a flash of shock, quickly extinguished. She was surprised, but then again... she did nothing wrong. If she had hidden the cups or specifically driven them somewhere to get rid of them or melted them... that would be suspicious. She had made no attempt to hide where she had gone.

"Oh, yeah?" Jessie said, slightly guarded.

Rosie came out with it. "You went to Bukoffee."

Jessie nodded weakly. "Yeah, I did."

"Why? When?" Rosie was confused.

"Remember when I drove out to pick up Abby from Albuquerque on the first of October?"

Abby was one of the few members who had not been collected from a walk. One of the cavalcade of women this group had pleasured had told a friend about her encounter, unaware that this friend was a futa. She found the address of where she picked up the hitchhiker and sent a postcard with an email address. She asked to meet with them, and after a short vetting process, was allowed to come. However, the only flight she could book was to Albuquerque International Airport, leaving her four hours away.

"When I was in town, I stopped by Bukoffee to get a coffee for me and her. I used to do it every day when I went to the office."

"I guess that makes sense. We all have creature comforts we miss from the city." Rosie shrugged. "When I'm in civilization, I always get something fried, just because it's impossible to replicate out here."

"It was more than that." Jessie admitted. "I honestly thought about... telling the ladies who work there about us."

"There's no point." Rosie responded. "Those futa are ungettable. Why would they come here to not make tons of money and... let's be real here... why come here and have LESS orgasms?"

"I left a six-figure job to live out here." Jessie reminded her. "And I've never been happier."

"Yeah, but they had just pushed you into a job you hated."

"Well, lucky for me, I got that big severance package." Jessie added. "Partially thanks to that helpful testimony from my counselor about my known fear of flying."

Rosie smiled tightly. "Might have bent a few rules that day, but... what are they going to do? Take away my license? We all have to contribute however we can."

"I wish I could contribute in other ways besides making sexy videos and driving people places."

"When are you going to give Guy Fieri back his convertible?"

"It's NOT a Camaro." Jessie grinned. "It's just a... sweet red convertible."

"Well, it makes a great backdrop for videos, too." Rosie admitted. "It makes it look like we... live a little better than we do."

There was a sharp whistle, the kind only Julie could do. She was the only person Jessie had ever known who actually whistled by putting her thumb and finger in her mouth.

"Come on, someone's going out! I need to get them the other walkie!" Rosie tried pulling Jessie out of the room by the arm, as she always did when she was eager.

Just as always, Jessie stood firm. "I'll be out in a bit. I just need to find my bookmark."

Rosie stepped forward and pecked Jessie before scampering off down the stairs.

Jessie closed the door, and not to keep the air conditioning in. She returned to the book she was 'reading.' Inside was a junk mail catalog that had somehow escaped Regina's merciless scissors and glue. This particular one sold exotic women's underwear.

Shiny satin pink-purple bras. A semi-sheer teddy with embroidered flowers covering the nipples. Undies in a dark blue-green color called 'peacock' for some silly reason. Red open cup brassieres where one nipple was hidden by the model's arm and one hidden by her long blonde braid. Semisheer stocking that stopped in the middle of the thigh. Tiny silver thongs that were definitely too small for any futa to wear.

Jessie had access to porn, all the porn she could handle through the wireless internet. (One of the more tech-literate futas had set up their wireless router to be invisible to passing cars.) Even that seemed unnecessary, considering the unlimited pussy waiting for her downstairs, quivering at the very thought of her.

Even so, eventually, everyone craved some 'alone time. This catalog, and its slightly airbrushed and entirely conventional and ordinary beauty, with their silk garments that served only to conceal their nudity, the way a present would be wrapped in silver paper... what would her sisters think if they found this? Masturbating to this in a house filled with such an ample supply of eager pussy was like going to Disney Land and hiding in the bush outside the ticket booth.

It made as much sense... as opening an umbrella in the desert.

And yet... the very thought of hiding something in a house where nobody wore clothes... Jessie could not deny the thrill this glossy mini-magazine sent through her heart.

She pulled the catalog out of the book and hid it in that most common hiding place for printed pornography, underneath her mattress. Jessie put the book on the shelf and walked down to join her sisters outdoors in the ceremony.