The Temptation of Felice

Rafe stepped back. I slumped, only upright because of restraining hands.

"Now, I have a little problem. I should kill you. I should just haul you out into the desert and cut your fucking Jody throat and let the coyotes and ants chew on you. But you are also government property, and I have been trained not to destroy government property. I can't even smash your fucking face because you would probably go whining to the sheriff. But I can fuck you up in other ways." He slapped me again.

I could not resist as he scientifically beat me to a pulp. Repeated gut punches did the trick. No broken bones, little bruising, not quite any internal injuries; merely debilitating pain. I passed out.

I crawled back to consciousness - and wished I had not. A siren woke me, the siren of the sheriff's patrol car that rolled toward me on the narrow desert highway just after sunrise. I was tied to a folding steel chair beside the highway. I was naked except for a sign tied around my neck. A sign that said, 'Jody'.

The sheriff was not the bad part. Being tied naked to a chair beside the highway was not the bad part. Hurting was not the bad part. No, the bad part was when cameras started flashing, clicking, whirring, capturing images that made the regional news.

The chunky detective leaned against a wall in the Desert Medical Center emergency room and watched me being prodded and ointmented and taped.

"So you didn't see anything, huh? Didn't recognize any voices? Don't have any enemies who'd want to do this to you? Uh huh." He handed me a business card. "Call me if your memory improves, okay?" He walked off. "Dork," I heard him mutter.

Trina and Leonie retrieved some clothes from my shack so I did not have to leave wearing only a hospital gown and robe. I did not really need to be rolled in a wheelchair to and from Trina's car but they insisted.

They also insisted on laying me in my bed naked (except for the medical tape), undressing themselves, crawling on each side of me, and giving me a long, languorous double blowjob. They snuggled me. I slept.

Trina left for her ranger work. Leonie stayed beside me and answered my phone. The ambulance association no longer needed my services; they would send someone to retrieve the emergency VHF radio. Various media outlets wanted to interview me; no, I had nothing to say. Various cranks called to say cranky things. And on and on.

Trina returned that evening. I received another full-flesh double blowjob for pain relief. And another in the middle of the night after I stood on my own to empty my bladder. And another in the early dawn before Trina left again.

I felt much better by that evening, especially when Trina rode my tongue while Leonie rode my cock. And then they swapped. Yes, much better...

Rafe and friends whomped me the night before the long Memorial Day weekend. I was pretty ambulatory and not-scary-looking by Tuesday. End of semester was only a couple weeks away. I had my AA degree in hand. I was unemployed. It was time to get out of Dodge, i.e. amscray, i.e. book it, i.e. move on.

I packed light - only my station wagon and a smallish U-Haul rental trailer. The trailer was loaded with milk crates filled with books, duffels of clothes and bedding, a chunk of kitchenware, shelving, and not much else. My bike was strapped to the back of the station wagon. Inside, with the back seats down, were layers of sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, a clothes bag and snack box - a rolling bedroom. I wasted no cash on motels.

Those last weeks passed. Trina and Leonie left me alone occasionally. I fucked them goodbye two days before my departure.

Friday, my (hopefully) next-to-last day in the Mohave Desert, I was at my kitchen table finishing my paperwork for (un)employment, landlord, school, and the county. I had arranged a transfer to an Army Reserve unit up north near Santa Cruz, on the coast below San Francisco, and to enroll in college there. My local affairs were wrapped.

A hand knocked on my front screen door. I turned to see Felice peering in.

I rose from my chair and regarded her through the screen. "Hello, Felice."

She looked nervous. "Ron, can we talk?" Two suitcases stood beside her.

I shrugged. What did I have to lose? "Come on in." I was not helpful.

She left the suitcases on the porch. She scanned the nearly-empty building and then looked at me. She nicely filled her lemon-rellow sundress. A big floppy handbag dangled from her arm. She stepped close but not too close, a yard away. She set the handbag on my table.

"Ron, what Rafe did to you was awful, terrible. I never knew he had such violence in him. Ron, he's an animal! I can't stay with him. I left him."

I stared into her face. "I'm leaving."

"I know." She did not smile. "Take me."

"Just like that?" I stared harder. "Take you? Take you where?"

"Wherever you're going. Wherever you're staying. Just take me."

She bent to slip off her white tennis sneakers. She reached behind to unsnap her dress's neck strap. The dress fell away. She stood naked. She twisted her wedding and engagement rings off her hand and set them on my table next to her handbag. Her blue eyes pierced me.

"This is what you wanted. This is what you can have. Take me. Fuck me."

Did I still want her? Had my obsession for Felice been beaten out of me? There she stood, the object of my desire for so many months, naked, an arm's length away, sweating slightly. A paranoid thought intruded.

"What about Rafe? Where is he now? Won't he come here and kill me?"

She shook her head. Her dirty-blonde hair fluttered. Her breasts jiggled.

"He's at a training base in Panama for a week. His unit left last night."

So I am safe for now, am I? Did I still want her?

Yes.

---

Were this a Just Plain Bob story it would end right there. I am not JPB so I have a postscript.

---

Felice took a step closer. I did not move. Another step, right into my face. I half-smiled. She reached to unbutton my summer shirt. I did not stop her.

She undid the buttons, pulled the shirt off me, undid my fly, and pushed my pants and boxers down. We stood naked a foot apart.

I had been frozen away from this woman for months.

I felt her heat. I melted.

We reached for each other, embraced, kissed, merged. Our hands moved across the other's shoulders, arms, back, butt. I pulled her ass closer. Her arms wrapped me; her hands locked behind my back.

Our mouths communicated non-verbally. Yes, THIS is what I want. Yes, I need THIS. Yes, our flavors are right, our textures, our chemistries.

Yes. We want to fuck. Each other. Now.

And we did. Nothing fancy the first time. Well, except the beginning. I picked her up, one arm under her back and the other under her knees, and carried her to the remaining sleep space, a blanketed and pillowed pad on the concrete floor beside the fuel-oil stove. I knelt and set her down. She scooted over and opened her creamy thighs to me.

"Take me. Fuck me." She blinked.

Only a straight missionary position fuck, but slowly, tenderly. I took her and filled her. I fucked her with care. Our mouths joined, and our groins, and our hearts. I felt her heat and spirit flow into me. Her arms and legs wrapped me. Her mouth devoured me. Her pussy contained me.

I moved deliberately. She whimpered. I moved faster. She cried. I pounded, and squirted, and roared. She wailed, the loveliest sound on Earth.

"Oh Ron..."

That was the next-loveliest sound - a woman moaning my name.

We held together. My cock slipped from her. We cuddled. She handled my wet, limp penis, fondled it, explored it. No, not it; ME! She fondled me, explored me. And me responded.

I was erect again, and wet. Her hand stroked me, tickled me, enraged me. Yes, enraged, and engorged. I growled and rolled her over. I entered her lubricated love-tunnel from behind. I slammed into her bouncy ass. I pulled up her thighs to the right pose and shoved as deep as I could.

A woman often groans "oh oh oh oh oh oh..." when I rhythmically piston into her depths. Felice did not. Her voice was a long steady moan, "oohhhhh..." with rising and falling pitches. Her song drove me onwards. I pounded.

Her hand moved between her thighs as I slammed into her. She cried. She wailed. I grunted. I felt my orgasm approach. I roared. I spewed.

We left a wide wet stain on the sleeping-pad's crumpled sheet. We rolled to another position and clung together. Felice's eyes magnetized to mine.

"Oh fuck, Ron. Thank you. Thank you."

After the mandatory cuddling-murmuring-kissing period, I crawled up and pulled Felice from the bed. I stripped the sheet, soaked it in the kitchen sink briefly with a squirt of detergent, wrung it tightly, and stepped naked from my kitchen door to hang it on the clothesline outside. The desert wind would dessicate it in minutes.

I stepped back inside. Felice held me tightly, still wearing only skin and her erotic heat. I had another paranoid thought.

"Are you sure there is absolutely no way Rafe can get back here before tomorrow morning? That's when I planned to leave."

She looked up at me. "Well, that's not really..."

"Uh huh. Tell ya what. I do not need to stay another night. Let's get the fuck away from here now. I mean, NOW." I unwrapped her arms. "C'mon, time is wasting. Who knows what the afternoon will bring?"

We dressed. I gathered the last of my gear and stowed Felice's suitcases into the trailer. A last-minute check, and we were off.

Santa Cruz is 500 miles due northwest of Joshua Tree. As the crow flies, yes. But if the crow has to walk and push a flat tire...

The ride goes faster when the crow is being blown as he drives.

Once away from Joshua Tree I was in no hurry. I had left no forwarding address, only a post-office box. I did not fear a Marine Corps husband's pursuit and vengeance.

Three basic routes were possible.

1) North along the dry east side of the High Sierras

2) Up the great wide Central valley

3) Along the coast

The coast route possessed the most campgrounds. I chose that way.

Felice argued persuasively for the middle route.

"No matter where else we go I would really like to take US-99 north." (The classic Central Valley route.) "I really want to stop in," she named a town, "and see my family, tell them what's up, pick up some stuff, y'know."

"Is this really important? Why there?"

"Well, my family sort of runs the place." The name of her family and the town was that of a prominent agricultural brand. "Look. I have money. I can pay for gas to get us anywhere - don't worry about that. I can pay for rooms too so we don't have to camp constantly. We could go up the coast if you want, and then cut over and see the folks and our lawyer, and then continue on..."

What? I was driving an heiress? With deep pockets? Hot to file for divorce?

I smiled. This could be a fun journey.

THE END?

*****

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia is copyright (c) 2015 and was derived and expanded from Ron's Journal 07. Your constructive comments are welcome. If you like this, join the 1%ers and VOTE!