Trip To Self

"Thanks. I like doing it for you." She giggled, still giddy with the excitement of having won again.

"You are a beautiful little creature." Crawling onto her, they kissed, and she reached under her skirt, feeling the wetness in her thong, rubbing her pussy through it, pinching her clit.

She moaned out loud, grabbing the bed, and he bit her exposed neck, down to her blouse, pushing it aside with his nose, finding her nipples still exposed, and sucking on them. Her fingers ran through his hair, and she purred like the satisfied kitty that she was, feeling him turn her fire up, stripping away her clothes, kissing her all over.

It was a dance she enjoyed more then she could express in words, as he held her naked form in his arms, touching and kissing her all over. He was rough with her, demanding, and she would push back, not giving in easily to what he wanted, getting herself man-handled for her troubles, the feeling of his fingers pinching her nipples and his hands slapping her ass so exquisite, so delicious, the forbidden nature of their roughness turning her own that much more.

She tried to push off the bed, pulling at his shirt, and he let it go, but then bounced her back against the mattress, flipping her over. She tried to pull away, but he held her down, pushing into her from behind. She moaned out loud, pulling herself along the bed, but he was in, and holding her tight.

He was by no means a gentle lover, and whenever he fucked her, it was like wild animals, like a lion claiming his lioness, and mating her because he could, and she had no say in the matter. It drove her wild, made her crazy, her pussy on fire with his fingers toying with her clit, and his cock pounding into her very being. Screaming out his name, she felt him exploding in her, her body shaking in orgasm.

With ease he flipped her over, and dove into her pussy. She cried out, trying to hold him back. No matter how often he did it, it always drove her crazy. He would cum in her, then eat her pussy, his hot juices swirling in her as he sucked her clit to earth shattering orgasms.

She was left laying on the bed, body shaking with the after effects of his attention, mind reeling from the assault he performed on her, as he stood and pulled his pants back up, then kissed her forehead. She purred again, and he opened one of the water bottles they had picked up earlier, handing it to her.

"Thank you." Sitting up, she sipped the aqua, stretching. "When are we going to the keys?"

"Whenever you are ready."

"Well, I mean we turned north in Miami, that was your idea."

"You were on a roll, so we hit Lauderdale and Boca. But we can head south whenever you are done caressing chrome."

She laughed, and stood on unsteady legs, walking over to the small table he had come to rest at. "Why do you want to go to the Keys?"

"I own a house down there."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I told you I'm from Florida. Key West, to be exact."

"Wow. I didn't think anybody was actually from Key West."

He laughed, pulling her into his lap, and feeding her several bites of his chicken. She leaned her head against his shoulder, kissing him softly on the neck, feeling his cum leaking onto her leg.

"Are you going to send me away?"

"What do you mean?"

"When this is all over, when we get there, are you going to send me away?"

He looked up into her eyes, then slowly picked her up, and carried her back to the bed. Together they undressed him, turning of the light at some point, and they kissed, long and hard. It started from there, not the frantic attack they normally went through, but a slow, deliberate wandering of each others bodies, touching, kissing, licking, tasting, feeling, exploring.

She gave him what he wanted, the attention that he craved, while he turned her on the way that only he could, strong hands and fingers teasing her, until they both could not take it any more. They both wanted it so bad that when it happened it was natural, unhurried, slow, languid movements, kissing all along, fondling and caressing one another.

Wrapping her legs around him, long, dancer legs sliding up and down his sides, she held him close, kissing his face and neck, feeling him moving in her, feeling his lips on her, feeling the tension bleed away, the heat they shared, the emotions coursing through both of them.

When they climaxed, it was a shared even that brought tears to both their eyes, kissing each other softly, whispering to one another, holding on tight, not wanting the moment o end, clutching to the present in fear of the future, until finally they had to relax their grips, and slide apart.

Slowly she stood, and walked into the bathroom, now really needing to use its facilities. She could see him moving around, sliding back into his jeans, and eating again. The knocking on the door made him perk up, and he pulled the door to the bathroom shut, smiling at her.

Secure that he was alone in the room, he looked around, pulling a shirt over his wiry frame, and digging around in his bag for a second. Another knock, this one more insistent, and he stepped across the room, standing next to the door.

"Who is it?"

"My name is Marianne Smith. I'm looking for my daughter Alexis."

He relaxed, then peeked out the window. There were two men standing behind the woman, standing off to the side of the door, out of the view of the peephole. To bad they had not been trained the same way he had.

Undoing the chain, he unlocked the door, and let it slip open just a bit, his foot blocking it. "You are Alexis mother?"

"Yes. Is she here?" The woman took a step back when she saw the man behind the door, and Chris considered that maybe the shirt was not the ideal wear for meeting the parents. The black t-shirt displayed a bloody skull, held up by a skeleton dressed in full battle rattle. The writing underneath read "Take a number, punk." It had been his team's motto.

"Yes, she is. Who is with you?"

The older man stepped forward, and he recognized him as her father from the pictures she had shown him the other night. The other guy had not looked anything like these two, so that only really left one option for him.

Stepping away from the door, he flipped the light on, and waved them in, dashing to the bathroom door, and slipping inside.

Alexis looked up from her nails, which she had been painting when he closed the door behind him, stepping up to her, his hand covering her mouth. "Your parents are here." She almost screamed, but he had anticipated that, so it went into his hand. She gave him a look, and he pulled it away.

"In the room?"

"Yeah."

"How did they find us?"

"Not sure. What do you want me to do? Get rid of them?"

She smiled at that. His fiercely protective streak had displayed itself on one or two other occasions, and she really liked it. But not now. Shaking her head, she wrapped a towel around herself, made sure it was secure, then looked at Chris.

"They alone?"

"No, I think Martin is with them."

"Blond hair, blue eyes, about six feet, around one eighty or so, kinda skinny a bit, good hair cut, dressed kinda preppy?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Sweet."

Pushing into him, his arms enveloped her. They could hear them moving around outside, and she squeezed him, her arms bumping something in his back. Reaching under his shirt, she pulled out the massive black handgun, staring into his eyes.

"What, there was somebody knocking at the door?"

"How long have you had a gun?"

"Since I was twelve."

"We'll talk about this later. Are you going to support me to my parents? I know why they are here."

"I'll support you against anything."

Her mother and father were sitting in the chairs by the table, with Martin leaning against the wall behind her mother when they stepped out. Everybody rose when she walked in, and she smiled at them. "Hi." Alexis smiled at everybody, picking some clothes out of her bag. "Hang on!"

Dashing back into the bathroom, Chris smiled at them, then picked up the bottle of wine from earlier. "Drink, anybody?" Her dad was the only one that bit, but it took up the time until she reemerged, now fully dressed.

"Ok…good to see everybody…what's up?"

"Martin tells us that you canceled the wedding!" Her mother seemed truly upset by this development, but her father appeared more amused.

"Well, he more did it then I did."

"You would not come home!" Martin was off the wall, and she saw Chris flex, the muscles in his arms pumping. Wow, his arms were probably about twice the size of her former fiancés. She had never realized how much bigger Chris was.

"No, I was not yet ready. Why are you in such a hurry to get married?"

"Let's see, I'm trying to get my jobs lined up, buy a house, you know, do married things, start our life together."

"If it is a life together, why can't it wait a couple of months? Not that it matters. It is not even an option anymore. That part of my life is over."

"And what part are we in now?" Her mother was spitting venom, the question more aimed at Chris then Alexis. He looked as if he would respond, but she stopped him, gently touching his arm, and answering.

"The part where I get to do what I've always wanted to do. I get to be free for a bit, see some things, and try something new. I even took some of your advice dad."

"You danced naked in the moon light?"

"No, I did that with my sorority in college."

"Really?" Chris perked up at the mention of naked dancing.

"Yeah. You aren't surprised, are you?"

"Not really." He laughed, but nobody else got it. Except for her father.

"You didn't!"

"Yes, I did. Several times, actually." Alexis got up and grabbed her purse, pulling out the envelope that had now taken over the duty of holding her money. Flipping it over, she looked at her total column on the back. "And I've made over five grand doing it." "What are you people talking about?" Marianne could not stand not knowing what people were talking about.

"She's been stripping!" Her father sounded as if she had won the lottery or something, his hands balled into fists, pumping in the air. Martin looked as if she had just told him that she had run over his dog, then backed up to make sure it was really dead. Her mother buried her face in her hands, and her daughter was sure she was going to cry.

"Listen. It's not like I plan on becoming a professional stripper!" She had actually given that some thought, but it seemed like the thing to say at the moment. "Yes, the marriage thing is off. But your presence here, with Martin, indicates to me that somebody wants it to be on again. Is that the case?"

"Yes." Martin finally detached himself from the wall, taking a deep breath, and stepping forward. He took a sharp turn, putting Alexis between him and Chris, dropping to one knee, and producing a small black box. "I'm sorry about what happened with Sarah. It was a mistake. I realize that you are the one for me. That was my trip. Maybe I had to take it, like you had to take yours. But please, please come home to me now. And marry me." With one smooth motion that she was sure he had practiced, he opened the box, and showed off the diamond ring that he had been saving for.

Chris let out a low whistle, unable to contain his initial instinct. He had to admit, the rock was pretty neat. Better then what he had bought his wife, way back when. But then again, Private First Class in Uncle Sam's service did not pay well, no matter what the recruiter had told him. Two smaller rocks flanked the big one in the center, and he suddenly realized that he had seen that exact thing on TV recently in and add working on the past, present, future angle. Apparently one stone was out, three were in, and this guy had enough dough to pull that off. He felt her squeeze his leg, and gently touched the small of her back, looking over at her.

Alexis was starring at the ring, her mind in turmoil, but her emotions clearly pointing her in the right direction. Casting a glance over at Chris, she saw the same soft smile that she saw in the rearview mirror when hugging his body, that relaxed contentment of the open roads and the freedom of not knowing what came next, of just heading in one direction, and getting there when you get there.

"I'm sorry Martin. It's over between us." She smiled her most conciliatory smile, and the man nodded softly, admitting defeat. "You'll make somebody very happy someday."

"You can't be serious, can you?" Marianne interjected herself back into the conversation, despite the best attempts of her husband to silence her with glances and hand gestures. "What are you going to do, ride around America with this guy?" The wave of her hand was probably meant to indicate Chris, who did not respond.

"For a while, yes." She shrugged, and then wrapped her arms around the man next to her, closing her eyes as the heat from his body overwhelmed her. "We are having fun, I'm learning new things, and I'm earning enough money to support myself for a while. How did you guys find me, by the way?"

"Calling card. You made your last call from here, and we traced it through ATT." Her father jumped to that one, before anybody else could. She smiled, remembering that after all, the calling card was tied to her parents home phone account, a lifeline in college, but now more of a leash. It would have to go.

"Listen, thank you guys for being concerned, but…"

"Should we leave you guys alone?" Chris hands clearly were indicating himself and Martin, but the man looked suddenly pale. The nod from the father was enough, and before anybody could move, he had wrapped one arm around the frail man, dragging him to the door. "Come on, buddy! I'll buy you a beer, and you can tell me funny stories about the little 'lexis."

The two walked out of the room, the door slamming behind them, and she turned back to her parents. "Listen to me first. When I left home, I flew to San Diego. Hung out there for a bit with some sorority sisters of mine, then rode to a place called Yuma, in the Arizona Desert. They had a fair going on, so I hitched on that to Phoenix. That is where I linked up with Chris. We've been traveling together ever since, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, down into Florida. We had just hit Florida when I had that conversation with Martin."

Her father nodded, trying to look interested in that part of the story, but he could really care less. In the choices of son in law, he would rather have Chris any day. He already had two boring ass squares, and another one lined up. If this daughter got herself somebody interesting, he was all for it. So he asked what really mattered. "Where did you start dancing?"

"You'll be proud."

"Vegas?"

"Better."

"What could be better then Vegas?"

"Guess!" She started digging in her bags, holding something just out of sight as her father thought about places between San Diego and Miami that could be better, his mind tracing the interstates. Then the light came on.

"You didn't!"

"We missed Mardi Gras by two weeks, but close enough."

"Can we get back on topic here!" Her mother looked truly angry now, so her father let it go, but it was clear he wanted to know more.

"So, you want to marry little Alexis, huh?" Chris took a sip from his Corona, regarding Martin with a sideways glance. The kid was seriously sweating, and had already downed half his beer bottle.

"Ahh…yeah…yeah…I did, well…I guess…"

"Dude, relax. Not like I'm going to hurt you." But I could, he left unsaid. But he was sure his compadre got that message anyways.

"Well. Ah…we dated in high school and such…"

"Yeah, she told me the story. You are a loyal kinda guy. I admire that in a guy. I was married once. Didn't like it."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah. She was a cheating whore. You ever seen Off-base amateurs?"

"Is that like…"

"A porn. It's a porn, dude."

"Yeah, I've seen a couple of them."

"She was in three, four, seven, and ten."

"Three…that was…"

"My house."

The kid almost fell of his chair, staring at the man. The woman featured in that one had been amazing, not just in sexual ability, but in looks. Not the worn out porn star kind of look, or the made up plastic surgery victim, but just a naturally beautiful woman who got fucked over and over and over, and just seemed to love her job.

"That was your wife?"

"Yeah. I was in the army at the time, as was she, and anyways, I was away on a deployment somewhere. So, I'm not a big fan of marriage."

"I don't blame ya."

"But I'm sure it will work out for ya." Chris took another sip of his beer.

"Thanks." The sarcasm was apparent, and they both smiled.

"What did you guys talk about?" The water was crystal clear, and she could see fishes darting about. On the water, boats were moving this and that way, and she was giddy with excitement. Only forty more miles separated them from Key West.

"Marriage. I told him about my hate of marriage, and he told me about this Sarah chick. Sounds like a nice girl."

"Sarah went to Catholic school, and bought all that bullshit."

"You go to Catholic school?"

"Sure did, all my life until college."

"Really? You never told me that!"

"You got yourself a real Catholic school girl slut!" She laughed, striking a pose leaning back on the motorcycle, and he had to smile. Walking over, he kissed her exposes tummy, and then pulled her into his arms.

"What are we going to do?"

"You going to send me away?"

"You worry about that, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Stop. You are welcome as long as you want to stay."

"I just wanted to tell you, you are amazing."

"You are awesome! Will you sign this t-shirt?"

"You are the best! The greatest ever! Can I get a picture?"

"Will you do porn? Can I get an autograph?"

She smiled at them all, slowly moving through the crowd, the three massive bouncers careful to only let one or two get close at a time. Even though she had slipped back into the white dress, she still always felt a bit exposed at moments like these. One of them thrust a book at her, and she was surprised, as always, to see herself looking up from the cover, upside down, wrapped around a pole, the title strategically obscuring anything that would make the cover picture X rated.

The book had only been out seven weeks, but it was a NY Times best seller, apparently a lot of people wanted to read about the woman that had stripped her way from New Orleans to Miami, to New York, to Vancouver, and finally to Vegas. And with her picture now having appeared in Maxim, Playboy, King, Stuff, Vanity Fair, and even Cosmo, the face that had last year been just that of a young girl turning down her suitor was now the face of stripping to a nation not yet at grips with its secret sexual obsession.

She signed the cover, kissed the guy on the cheek, leaving a big red lip mark, and moved on. Several more fans later she tapped the lead bouncer on the shoulder, and they plowed a line for her back to the dressing room.

Chris was sitting in the chair she had occupied before the show, sipping from one of her Evian water bottles, the post show glow plastered on his face. When she walked in he rose, pulling her into his arms, and kissing her hard.

"You were amazing."

"You always say that."

"It's always true." They kissed again, and she believed him.

"I got your stuff in the bag already, you ready to go?" He held up the saddlebags, and she nodded, taking one last look around. She was fond of the Gentleman's Club; it was the most upscale strip joint she had seen in North Carolina so far.

Heading out the back door, they climbed onto the matching Harley Davidson Fat boys she had bought with the royalties from her book, sitting for a second, listening to the night.

"How far?" Slipping her helmet and glasses on, she already knew that the rumbling of the engine between her legs, the sight of her sexy companion, and the wind on the thin material would have her horny as hell soon, even in the warm summer night.