The Foreigner Ch. 05

Author's note:

When chapter 4 was written, I had no idea how to finish the story in a way that wasn't boring so I ended it at a point I thought reasonable. I tried thinking about other stories, but my mind kept returning to this one. l hope you enjoy the result.

As always, ratings and comments are appreciated.

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It's been three weeks since I arrived in Nevada, a person on the run. Now that I was no longer in danger I tried to think of a reason to stay longer but I couldn't. Kat's mission was here and mine wasn't. It was time to leave and I was having a difficult time saying goodbye. We sat in the two chairs we always did after she came home from work when I started the conversation I was dreading.

"You know I have to leave. My assignment won't let me stay."

"I know. Is Chicago still your destination?"

"That was my first idea but I'll pass through a few big cities before I get there. Who knows? Maybe I'll choose one of them instead. All I know for sure is that I'll start my journey by traveling east on I-70. I do have two requests though, before I leave."

"Name them."

"First, I'd like the two chairs to remain where they are. It'll feel like I'm still here when I call."

"And the second?"

"Tomorrow, I'd like one more kiss to take with me."

"How about two, one now and one tomorrow?"

We both stood up and embraced. It wasn't like our first kiss. It was a much more intimate kiss, expressing our feelings for each other. Whether it was born out of the crisis we went through together or it was love, the answer might not be known until we were both home on our planet.

"Kat, I hope you understand that I don't want to stop but we have to."

"I don't trust myself either but I want us to video chat later. I have something special planned."

Later that night, after we retreated into our rooms, I made the call.

"Hello?"

"Frank, I have a confession to make. I'm not the shy, sweet woman I've pretended to be. Nine years in the desert changed me. As the years went by, my sexual needs grew. You might be amazed at the large collection of toys I have, but after a few years even they weren't enough. We both know the dangers of pregnancy. I couldn't get the satisfaction I really wanted and so I turned to the comfort of women. At the inn I could pick out the women who were looking for more of an adventure and I took them home for the nastiest sex you can think of. There was no love. It was pure, raw sex. When you first came to me and told me your story it was you who needed my reaction. Now the tables are reversed. I need to know how you feel about what I've just told you. Are you disgusted or disappointed in me?"

"Neither. I'm happy you were able to find a sexual outlet."

"That's what I hoped, but I needed to be sure before I said anything else. This house holds many secrets. You used the bulletin board to create a new identity. I used it for more selfish reasons. I asked for an electronics expert to rewire this house. My excuse was that I wanted to feel safer and I wanted a security system installed but that wasn't my real motive. Cameras and recording devices were installed all over the house to record my play time, and large high-definition TVs were installed so I could enjoy watching the action again later. Some people put mirrors on their ceilings to watch themselves having sex. I had cameras installed in all the overhead air vents."

"I wondered why the guest room had such a large TV. It seemed too large for the room. Wait... have you been watching my late night sessions?"

"No, I'd never do that without your permission, but I hope our situation will change tonight."

"What do you have in mind?"

"Turn your TV on and use the remote to go to channel 967."

When I did that, I saw the image of Kat on the big screen.

"From this point on I'll control what you see on your TV. I've programmed several of my favorite play dates into both of our TVs. While you're watching them, my screen will have a picture-in-picture option displayed. The large part will be focused on you to see how you respond. The small picture will show me what you're reacting to. I want to know what excites you the most. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Now we get to the main event. As you lie in bed looking at the screen, I want to watch you stroke yourself until you cum. Will you do that for me?"

For the last six years that was all I'd done while watching porn. I decided to see what would happen if I made it more interesting by raising the stakes.

"Under two conditions. To be fair about this, I should have the same option on my screen to watch you while you're naked. And, since my little image of you will be without sound I want us to keep our phones on, so I can hear you and maybe direct you a little."

I saw a smile cross her lips as she said, "We have a deal."

There are no strip clubs in Alamo so I guess she learned her moves watching porn too. By the time she was dressed in only a thong, I wasn't sure I'd last before the videos even started. I watched as she crawled onto her bed and sat with her back pressed against pillows placed along her bed's headboard. Lying next to her were what I assumed were two of her favorite toys. Looking straight into one of her cameras she slowly raised her hips and slid her last piece of clothing off. Then, as she touched a button on her remote control she said, "Enjoy the show, I know I will."

I learned quickly that behind that quiet exterior was a wild woman. She had no problem using language as nasty as the action on the screen. Mixed in with her comments were fantasies of what might have happened had I been with her. I won't lie. The videos were hot but my attention was more focused on Kat's live performance. Her toys were too tempting an invitation for me to ignore and I instructed her to use them. It wasn't long before the videos were forgotten as each of us became absorbed in satisfying our needs. I was glad Kat's neighbors weren't closer. The sounds we made that night would have brought the police.

The next morning, as we ate what we knew would be our last breakfast together, I broke the silence. "Thank you for last night. I'll have something to remember for a long time."

"So will I."

"I never asked, when is your return flight home?"

"Nine months, three days and, according to my watch, thirty-eight minutes."

"If you're that exact, you must be looking forward to it."

"After last night, not so much."

"We'll always have Paris."

"I don't understand."

"It's a line from a movie called Casablanca. Watch it if you get the chance."

I knew the time had come. Stalling any longer wouldn't make the situation any easier.

"Before I leave, you promised me another kiss."

I might be wrong but I sensed a deep sadness as we had that final soft kiss. I loaded my possessions into my car and headed east. I didn't look back as I drove away. If I did, I knew I wouldn't have the strength to leave.

My thoughts kept drifting back to Kat but I knew I had to concentrate on my driving. The difficulties of traveling on I-70 through Colorado were well known. It would have taken over eleven hours to reach Denver if I drove non-stop and, near the end of the trip, I'd have been in no condition to handle the steep grades and numerous turns through the Rockies. It was such a treacherous strip of highway that there were ramps for runaway vehicles cut into the mountains. My plan was to make the trip in three days. At each stop, a good air conditioner, a TV, a warm shower and a comfortable bed were all I needed. Oh, and cell phone service. I wanted to be able to call Kat each night.

I arrived in Richfield in four hours, too early to check in but late enough to get something to eat at one of those fast food burger places. It was a far cry from the home-cooked meals I'd enjoyed for the last month, another adjustment I'd have to make as I traveled to Chicago.

That night, Kat picked up my call on the first ring.

"Thank God you're okay. I was so worried. Where are you?"

"Richfield, Utah. What's wrong?"

"Turn your TV on."

"Any particular channel?"

"Any channel."

I turned it on and immediately saw a banner across the screen with the words "Breaking News." A newscaster was reporting the story. "Rescue crews have been dispatched to the scene. To repeat, earlier today, Colorado's unusually rainy weather created a huge mudslide which has buried cars and trapped others on I-70 between Glenwood Springs and Denver. I-70 is now closed indefinitely between those cities."

I watched as I realized I could have been in one of those cars if I'd tried to make the trip in one day. "Sorry to have worried you. I'll have to change my plans of course, but I'm okay. Let me do some research and I'll call you when I've figured out what I'm going to do now. How late can I call?"

"I'll be up til midnight. After that, send me a text and call me tomorrow."

"I should know in the next thirty minutes. Bye."

Going through the Rockies wasn't going to work so I had to go around them. I-80 seemed a much safer route. After canceling my hotel reservations and making a new one, I made my second call to Kat.

"Table Rock, Wyoming will be my next stop. I haven't figured out anything after that. I only had one thing on my mind, hearing your voice again. Well, that isn't exactly true, but I did want to hear your voice."

"Batteries don't last as long as they used to. They wear out after four hours."

"Four hours?"

"I needed to do something to keep my mind off that story."

"But, four hours? I'd need to be recharged after less than that."

"Are you saying, you're not as good as my toys?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just saying I might need a rest after two hours. Can we agree on that?"

"Maybe."

"Now, I'm definitely going to have trouble getting to sleep. I'll call you from Table Rock tomorrow night at 10. Good night, Kat."

"Good night."

The next morning I checked out at 9:00 am. Including stops for gas and a quick meal, it was a seven hour drive from Richfield to Table Rock. According to the map on my phone, I'd head north toward Salt Lake City before turning east onto I-80. There were very few large cities on this stretch of highway. Table Rock was a town with about two-thousand residents and one motel. In many respects it was similar to Alamo.

It was a boring but easy trip with only my radio to keep me company. At the last gas station I picked up a map of the United States. Paper maps still had their uses. It was easier to see the big picture of the route I would take.

The silence of the hotel room in Table Rick reminded me of the loneliness I felt when Kat was at work. I looked forward to our call later. I already missed the conversations in her living room, the comfortable routine of talking at the end of the day.

"Hi, Kat."

"Any problems with the drive today?"

"No, it was pretty easy. I'm going to limit my driving each day. There's no reason to push myself."

"Will I get to see you before I have to leave this planet?"

"There's no way I'd let you leave without seeing you again. Chicago is only four hours from Las Vegas by plane."

"If circumstances were different, do you ever think about what might have been?"

"For what it's worth, I know now, I wouldn't have put you on that plane. The irony is that, in the end, the result was the same, we separated."

There was a very long pause before Kat replied, "There's nothing we could have done to prevent it. Life's a bitch."

Those few words summed up our situation perfectly. I promised to call again the next day and we each said good night.

The map made it easy to see Cheyenne, Wyoming would be my next destination.

It was 6:00 pm when I arrived at the hotel. I was tired but I needed to wash some clothes. I had forgotten to do a wash at the house before I left and my dirty clothes were starting to pile up. Luckily the hotel had a laundry I could use. The only problem was that I was the only man doing laundry and I kept getting strange looks from the women. I guess they thought "real men" don't do laundry, their women do. I got the feeling that they thought either something was wrong with me or I was gay. So, when my clothes came out of the dryer I just threw them in the plastic bag that I had brought and did the folding in my room. I didn't want to stay a second longer than I had to. It had been a long day. I hoped my conversation with Kat would brighten my spirits.

At 10:00 pm I made my nightly call to Alamo.

"Hi Kat. What's that noise in the background? Are you having a party?"

"It was too quiet without you here, so I'm lying in bed with my toys watching the video of our last night together."

"You recorded it?"

"Well... yeah."

"You continue to surprise me."

"When you get settled, I'll send you a copy. You really need to enjoy it on a big screen not a tiny phone."

"I agree, although I'll have to wear headphones when I play it. Wouldn't want the neighbors to get the wrong idea."

"I still haven't decided whether to clean the sheets that were on your bed or keep them as a trophy."

"You're a bad girl."

"Is that a problem?"

"Not for me. In fact I'd guess that, at one time or another, every guy dreams of a woman like you."

After that phone call, I lay in bed thinking. I'd spent six years in LA. Now I was headed toward Chicago and would probably spend my last four years there. This trip would probably be my only chance to explore the country so I made the decision to take a slight detour. Rocky Mountain National Park was only eighty-nine miles south of Cheyenne. Unfortunately there was no lodging in the park other than campgrounds so I chose a town as close as possible. It was early May so there was no problem getting a reservation. At other times, tourists filled every available room. I chose a place called the Stanley Hotel and after checking in I drove through the park. If I could, I wanted to see some of the wildlife in the area. Bears, moose and bighorn sheep are not something you see in LA or the desert.

Later that night I received a text from Kat saying not to call. She'd be "busy" but she promised to give me all the details the next time we spoke. There was nothing to do now but try to get a good night's sleep although I wouldn't have slept a wink if I had known what I found out later. It seems the Stanley Hotel was the inspiration for a movie that gave me nightmares for a week: "The Shining."

I woke up the next morning to the sound of helicopters overhead. From my window I could see four patrol cars in front of the hotel, one with the word "Sheriff" on it. If they were looking for me, I couldn't imagine what I'd done wrong in trying to cover my tracks but whatever the reason, I wasn't going to hang around to find out. I quickly dressed and packed. The bill had been slipped under my door marked "paid" so I could leave without getting into any more trouble and since my room was on the first floor, it was easy to walk out the side exit and get to my car without being noticed. All I could think about was getting the hell out of there. As a result, when I left the hotel, I didn't pay enough attention to the highway signs. I wound up heading south on I-25 instead of north and didn't realize my mistake until I saw a sign for Denver. I pulled off the highway at the next exit and tried to slow my heart rate. I needed to calm down.

I decided to stop at a little diner while I thought about what to do next. I walked to the counter and sat down. Immediately, a waitress came over and, without a word, filled a coffee cup and put it in front of me.

"Hi, honey. What'll you have?"

"Just the coffee."

"You sure? We make a great butterscotch pie."

"Okay, but just a small slice."

"Whipped cream on top?"

"Might as well get the whole experience."

"You're not from around here. I'd have remembered you."

"No, just passing through."

When she left to get my pie, I made a note to myself to get some comfortable clothes. I didn't have a lot and, if possible, I wanted to avoid a repeat of the experience in the hotel laundry room. It was only a minute before the waitress returned with the pie.

"Going to be in town long?"

"Just long enough to get some new clothes. Any recommendations?"

"We don't have many stores that carry fancy clothes."

"It doesn't have to be fancy. I just need some clothes to travel in."

The waitress ripped a page from her order book.

"I'll write down the names of some places and my phone number in case you need any more advice. The name's Sally."

As she walked away I thought of how much my life had changed in the last month. It was crazy. I'd spent six years in LA and got no attention from women at all. Now, with all the phone numbers being handed to me, you'd think I was a rock star. I definitely needed to reevaluate my life.

After stopping at one of the places on Sally's list to pick up some clothes, I decided to continue south to Denver. It was while watching the 6 o'clock evening news at the hotel that I found out the real reason for the police earlier. A hiker had been reported missing in Rocky Mountain National Park. All that worry for nothing. I'd have some explaining to do when I called Kat at our usual time.

"Hi Frank, where are you tonight?"

"Denver."

"Denver, as in Denver, Colorado?"

"Yes."

"But I thought the road to Denver was closed."

"Only I-70. I reached it by traveling south on I-25 from Cheyenne."

"I'm confused. What's going on?"

"I saw some police, freaked out, took a wrong turn on the highway and ended up here."

"Are you okay?"

"I will be. Tell me about your play date yesterday."

"It was amazing! Yesterday, at about 3:00 pm, two women drove up to the inn. They were alone, not part of a tour or group. That's always a good sign that I might get lucky. As I was serving another table I thought I heard one of the two women whisper the word "mistress." That got my attention fast. When I took their order, I mentioned what I thought I heard and asked if it was true. One of the women said yes and I asked what that type of relationship was like. She told me that if I was adventurous and open-minded enough I could find out for myself. I wrote down my address, handed it to her and asked her to arrive at 9:00 pm. That gave me enough time to have a leisurely dinner and set up my recording equipment. I never did learn their names so, I'll just refer to the woman in charge as the Mistress and the other as her sub. When they arrived, the sub had her head bowed. The two of them walked into the living room, the sub walking a step behind the Mistress. It was obvious these women didn't consider themselves equals. The Mistress motioned for me to sit in one of our two chairs as she sat in the other. With her head still bowed, the sub knelt silently at her Mistress' feet. I won't bore you with all the details of their relationship. Just know that within limits they both agreed to, her sub has to do whatever she's told without question or hesitation. The sub could be told to serve drinks to her Mistress' friends while naked or to fuck the pizza delivery guy and it would be done. I explained that in my relationships I was always the one in control but at least once in my life I wanted to experience submission. Her sub doesn't use a safe word but last night I was allowed to choose one that would stop all activity if I said it.

The first thing that came to mind was "Chicago."

She then leaned forward, stared into my eyes and said, "Don't waste my time. This is the last time tonight you get to decide anything. Do you want to continue?"

I replied, "Yes, Mistress."

She then asked, "Which room is your bedroom?"

I pointed to it and we all entered.

In a commanding voice she turned to us and said, "I want both of you completely naked, NOW."