Vision of the Spirit Ch. 05bywilderness©
A gentle tug on Tom's arm woke him. Only half-aware, he clutched Hannah tight to his chest in a reflex triggered by dreams of abandonment.
She brushed his cheek, and whispered, "I have to pee, but I'll be right back. I promise."
The curtains faintly glowed with sunrise. Rain and wind tapped on the glass. Tom languidly stretched, and enjoyed a lazy Sunday morning contentment. His thoughts floated between dream and reality. The warm bed felt like an ideal place to spend the day. After a few minutes, he rolled onto his side and watched for Hannah's return from the bathroom. The door opened and she emerged from the dark. Her hair was unbraided, and flowed in waves of black silk over her shoulders and breasts. Tom's heart beat a little faster when he pulled back the covers, and she slipped in.
Hannah kissed him with minty-fresh breath, and said, "Good morning." A cool hand slid across his hip. "Where's that nice stiffy you poked me with a few minutes ago?" She found what remained and then super-sized it with one adept finger, tracing its contour.
Tom rolled out of bed. "My turn."
Impatiently, he brushed his teeth, while waiting for the erection to subside so he could relieve the pressure in his bladder. He washed the important parts and hurried back, ready to start the day off with a bang. The dim light revealed an empty bed. The front door was slightly ajar. "Not again." Thoughts switched from passion to rejection in the wink of an evil eye. Still naked, Tom swung the door wide, and yelled, "Hannah!" into the storm. The rain sizzled against his burning anger.
Without warning, Tom's head was struck from behind. He spun around to find a pillow at his feet. Mischievous eyes peeked at him from over the far side of the bed. Relief coursed through his veins, muscles relaxed. The joy he felt surprised him, his attachment to this woman unnerving.
Slamming the door, Tom marched around the bed to confront the crouching sniper, hidden temptress. "If you think you can punk me without payback you're in for a rude surprise."
Hannah screamed, "You'll never take me alive!" and crawled away, over the bed.
Tom caught both her ankles, dragged her crosswise on the mattress, and lay on her back.
"Oh, you're cold!" she said, as he pushed her hair aside to kiss her shoulder. The struggle soon faded. Their skin temperatures reached equilibrium and then began to rise simultaneously.
In a thick, distracted voice, Hannah whispered, "I surrender."
His fingers raked down her sides, grazing each breast, while his lips followed the ridges of her spine to a firm, round bottom. Kneading each globe, he kissed one side and then the other, sucking the flesh long enough to leave red welts for days. Grasping her hips, Tom flipped her over and reversed direction, up the front of her body, until his hands cupped her face. He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, and asked, "Why should I believe you?"
Hannah broke eye contact, seemed to consider a number of answers, and said, "I promise, I'll never runaway from you again. I won't leave your side until you let me go. Is that what you want?"
"Hmm, that sounds about right," he said, as his index finger twirled a proud nipple.
She closed her eyes, and smiled. "Last night, you told the old man I was your girlfriend. It sounded nice. I haven't been anyone's girlfriend in a long time."
The curve of her breast teased his lips, until he enveloped a nipple with a gentle suction. Her hands cradled his face, while his tongue flicked the hardened tip. He blew a cool breeze across the wet peak. She shivered.
"Well, Hannah, you can be my girlfriend, for today, at least." Tom liked the idea very much. Commitment had never been important. But Hannah was still a mystery, a lovely enigma worthy of emotional risk. In fact, the risk heightened the thrill.
Her soft palms guided him to the other breast.
While his tongue teased around the areola, Tom decided unconditional affection must be nonexistent in her life, and wondered how she would respond to an unrequited orgasm. "Hannah, What do you like?"
"What do I like?" With eyes closed, her brow furrowed in thought. Then softly she sang, "Raindrops on roses, And whiskers on kittens, Bright copper kettles, And warm woolen mittens, Brown paper packages, Tied up with strings, These are a few of my favorite things . . ." The song stopped, and she arched her back when he finally sucked on the pleasantly tortured breast. "I like what you're doing now very much, too."
"Roll over, I want to check your cuts."
The bemused stare before turning over pleased him. He'd surprised her.
Gathering her blanket of hair and placing it off to the side, Tom inspected the scratches that striped her back. Satisfied with their progress, he massaged her shoulders, saying, "Physical therapy always speeds recovery."
"You're the doctor."
Trailing his fingers lightly around the wounds, Tom soon worked his way back down to her bottom. Each round cheek fit nicely into his kneading grip. After a long fondle, he traced his fingers along the center cleft, until he cupped her sex underneath. Hannah remained still. Tom wondered if she'd fallen asleep. He began to stroke the mons and play with the meager tuft of hair. Hannah groaned and raised her hips, proving she wasn't.
"Did that hurt? Tell me if it did. Therapy shouldn't be painful."
Rolling onto her back, she raised up on her elbows, and smirked. "No, it didn't hurt. In fact, I think it's just what the doctor ordered." Her smoldering gaze burned down his body, until it rested on his throbbing cock. "Would you like to take my temperature with that?"
"Lay back. I'll decide the best form of treatment."
After a wicked grin, she did.
He fingered her bellybutton ring, and said, "Do you mind if I take off the hardware?"
Tom removed it, and then kissed her tummy. The smooth skin undulated in response, as his lips pecked here and there, landing in random, unexpected places. When he pushed apart her legs and knelt between them, Hannah reached for his jutting erection. He slapped away the hand, and said, "The patient must remain still during treatment. Put your hands over your head and close your eyes."
With a big smile, Hannah did as she was told. "Yes, Doctor."
A vision from his wildest dreams lay before him. Tom rocked back on his heels, just to enjoy the view. The black hair fanned out to frame her face. Aside from the scratches, her skin looked unblemished, except for a freckle beneath her right nipple.
One eye cracked open, and she asked, "What are you doing?"
"A body scan. You have to be still and you have to be quiet for this to work," he said, just before kissing the freckle. The patient's body tensed under him. When Tom lay down on top of her, the soft skin-on-skin friction ignited all his senses. It wouldn't take much to set him off, and he hoped she felt the same way. But realistically, he was just another man using her body for pleasure and maybe she wouldn't feel much of anything. Damned, if he wasn't going to do his best.
Her face looked serene.
"Don't make a sound unless something hurts. Okay?"
"Shhh! What did I just say!"
A silent laugh wiggled her body and jiggled her breasts. It felt and looked wonderful.
"Here we go." Therapy began at her throat and moved down. Between kisses, Tom said, "Stimulating the nerve endings in your skin will speed healing. So, just let yourself go." A nipple poked into his palm. "I think you're body's responding," he added, tweaking the evidence. Hannah's mouth showed the effects, as well. Although silent, her lips changed from a smile to a round "oh" when treatment affected her positively. Empirical response would be his guide to her healing pleasure.
"Try to remain still," he said, cupping her sex. "This may feel uncomfortable at first." A finger slipped easily between the moist lips, telling him quite the opposite was true. With one hand, he spread the lips open, while the other positioned its middle finger at her entrance. "I'll go slow." And gradually the finger disappeared. He licked the index finger on the free hand, and rubbed her clitoris with it. Her hips bucked off the bed.
Above her head, Hannah clutched two fistfuls of sheet in the strain for stillness. Tom's cock twitched at the idea he could do this. He could make her feel good. Although she'd been responsive before, he was never sure if it was authentic or pretend. She was a professional, after all.
The middle finger was joined by the index finger, moving in and out. He bent down and sucked a nipple.
Hannah groaned and shivered.
"Be quiet! You'll ruin the test results." Tiny quivers squeezed his fingers inside her. Either she was very good at faking, or she was on the edge of something big. The need to know drove his mouth between her legs. While one hand fondled a breast, and the other plunged her depths, Tom kissed the little swollen nub of Eros. Her body jerked as if shocked. "Don't move!" He sucked her clitoris harder, which resulted in the same involuntary spasm of pleasure. "You're going to ruin the test results if you keep moving." Fun was fun, but now it was show time. Doubling his digital encouragement, Tom applied full oral stimulus -- tongue, suck, nibble, and hum -- until Hannah lost control. With a high pitched squeal, her back arched, trying to push his head inside.
He wrapped his arms around her hips, and continued to suck the life out of her climax. Finally, she flopped down and pulled his head up by the ears. Their fingers entwined on the mattress above her head, and he kissed her. She kissed back with a lusty fervor. After a long, tongue-twisting embrace, Tom pushed away. "I told you not to move. You ruined the scan. So, now we'll have to do it all over again, later."
Exhausted, she just smiled, nodded agreement, and reached for his cock.
Tom sprang off the bed. "I'm going to grab some clothes from the truck. Let's go and get some breakfast. I'm starved." The confused look on Hannah's face made him grin.
"What about you?" she said, pointedly staring at his bobbing erection.
"This wasn't about me. I did it for you."
Tom quickly dressed, and ignored the naked woman on the bed. Once outside in the rain, his head cleared and he was able to think, a little. Opening the truck cap, he stood under the window for shelter and rummaged through some bags.
Suddenly, Hannah stood beside him, peering into the truck bed. She was wearing the dirty Denver tee-shirt and nothing else. "Whatcha got in there? Look at all those tools. I knew you were good with your hands, but now I see you must be a professional."
Pulling a blanket from the pile, he draped it over her shoulders. "What the hell are you doing? You'll get us arrested."
She hooked her arm around his, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm just keeping my promise. I won't leave your side until you let me go."
Tom's heart quickened. This was going to be a great day. "Well, okay then, you may wait for me inside."
Her bottom lip stuck out, and she simpered, "Do I have to?"
"Hmph," she grunted, and stalked off, into the cabin.
After grabbing the backpack and a garbage bag filled with clothes, Tom returned to the room and dropped them on the floor. Hannah sat cross-legged on the bed, reading.
"One of those Gideon Bibles." She wet a finger and turned the page. "These things are everywhere. I try to read a chapter every Sunday."
The complexity of this woman was beyond comprehension. It must be just another ruse. "When you're done, this bag has clean clothes in it. See if you can find something decent to wear. Then empty out the pack. We'll do laundry after breakfast. I'm going to find out if we can stay here another night." He turned to go. "I'll be right back."
He glanced back. She gave him a don't-be-long smile.
It took several minutes for the proprietor to answer the bell. The grizzled old man opened the office door, and gruffly asked, "You know anything about these damn computers? My daughter sent me a picture of my new grandson and I can't find the damn jay-pig file."
"I think you mean jpeg file."
"I probably can help you out. Where's the PC?"
"In here." The old man hobbled into the next room.
Tom followed and entered a living room much like the cabin's interior. It had the same time warp décor, the same worn 1950's ambiance. After a quick check of the email folder, Tom said, "I don't think you downloaded the file. Do you have dial-up or a broadband connection?"
The old man gave him a puzzled look, and said, "It must be broadband. There's a lot of naked broads on there."
A laugh struggled to burst out. Tom choked it back, while tracing the wires at the back of the PC, and said, "You have dial-up, a telephone Internet connection. Go ahead and connect. It'll probably take a while to download the file."
Fifteen minutes later, Tom returned to the cabin with a free night's lodging at the Midway Motel.
When he recounted his story to Hannah, she said, "That is so cute. You are such a Sweetie," and kissed his cheek.
Physical contact with her always seemed to lead to impure thoughts. A little too abrupt, he asked, "Are you ready to go?"
"You tell me." She held her arms above her head and shimmied in a provocative pirouette.
Even covered by his baggy jeans, rolled up to mid-calf, and a blue flannel shirt tied at her midriff, she was gorgeous. Underneath the flannel, he glimpsed her red, rhinestone studded belly shirt. "That'll work."
"Before we go, can I do one thing for you?"
Suspicious, he asked, "What?"
Hannah pointed at the desk chair. "Sit."
Tom sat down. She moved behind him, and untangled his braid. After fluffing out the strands, she brushed it. When done, Hannah placed her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear, "Now we look like a matched set."
Minutes later, seated across from one another at the Mountain View Diner, they sipped coffee, while reading the menu.
After deciding on the Pancake Special, Tom pulled out his wallet and counted what was left. "Since I don't have to pay for the room tonight, I think I have enough to buy you some clothes that fit."
Dolores the waitress stopped to take their orders.
Hannah said, "I'd like some buttered toast and orange juice, please."
Tom frowned at Hannah, and said, "Bring us two Pancake Specials, and more coffee, when you have a chance, Dolores."
"Okay, thanks guys. It'll be just a few minutes," She waddled off to the next table.
"You have to eat more than toast. When was the last time you had a decent meal?"
Tom stepped across the aisle and picked up a discarded newspaper from the counter. The local headline read, 'Plane Crash in Glacier'. He sat down beside Hannah. "Look."
Together they read the short article about a plane wreck found in the mountains by a hiker. There were no reports of missing flights. A helicopter would fly up today, weather permitting, to locate the crash site.
"I should check in with the police, and let them know where I'm staying."
Hannah remained silent and laid her head on his shoulder. Her hand ran up the inside of his leg and stopped below his crotch. The rest of the news was all small town gossip and tourist information. The weather report looked bad for the next three days. Thunder rumbled in the distance to verify the accuracy of the forecast.
When Delores returned with mounds of steaming calories, Tom asked, "Is there a bus station in town?"
She pointed out the window. "The Greyhound stops at the Post Office once a day, Monday through Saturday. Schedules are inside. You buy the tickets at the bank."
"How about a Laundromat?"
"Around the corner and 5 miles down the road, in the strip mall."
Tom began to devour his stack of pancakes.
Hannah followed his lead by drowning her pile with maple syrup and jamming in a mouthful. With bulged out chipmunk cheeks, she mumbled, "Mm, Good." The next few minutes were all mastication without hesitation. When the last dollop of syrup was wiped up with a crust of toast and devoured, Hannah leaned back, and said, "Wow, what a great morning. I'm totally satisfied, in every way." Grabbing Tom's hand, she put it under her shirt and onto her belly. "Feel how stuffed I am. It's as hard as a rock."
After a quick glance around, Tom let his hand drift up to quickly grope a breast. "Yeah, you are a stuffed shirt."
"Ooo, naughty boy. Let me feel yours." She leaned over and kissed him, while a wandering hand slid over his six pack abs to cup his six-plus package.
"How was everything?" asked Dolores, suddenly standing next to the table and scribbling on the check pad.
"Everything was delicious, thanks."
"You guys look like you're in a hurry, so I won't ask if you want anything else." She slapped down the check. "Enjoy the rest of your day."
Hannah said, "We will. You do the same."
"I wish," said Dolores, and laughed.
They paid the bill, walked out into the rain and hopped in the truck. Hannah collected her hair and stroked the combined thickness hand over hand. She caught Tom watching and said, "What?"
"Why do you do that?"
She stopped, stuck her hands between her knees, and looked out the window. "I don't know. It feels good, I guess. It's just a stupid habit."
"It makes you look vulnerable, like you're worried." He turned on the truck and shifted into drive.
With too much insistence, she said, "Well I'm not. I can take care of myself."
Annoyed, he said, "All I meant was, it touches my heart. I don't think you're as tough as you act."
Hannah glanced at him and then turned away to watch the 19th century, wood-frame buildings pass by. The renovated town center looked authentic Wild West, complete with plank sidewalks, horse troughs and hitching posts. The only concession to modern design was the paved street. Tourists could easily imagine a gunfight or a stagecoach arrival at any second. "This is a cute town. It's so cool, the way they've kept it."
Out of the blue, Tom decided his future. "I think I'll hang out here for a while, settle down near the mountains and get a job at a hotel. I have a degree in management, and I'd like to run my own place someday. It'd be great to live around here. I could get to know Blackfoot history, and hike whenever I want."
"That sounds like a nice life." She kept her face turned away.
Tom placed his arm across the seatback, rubbed Hannah's shoulder, and said, "You never know what kind of thrill you'll find in the mountains." She didn't respond, so he continued, "Yeah, I've had enough of big cities. Give me big sky from now on." Silently they drove on, until the first vestige of modern society appeared, a strip mall with a Kmart. "Looks like they're open. Let's get you some clothes."
Early Sunday morning seemed a retail down period, customers and staff barely there. Pushing a squeaky shopping cart, Tom navigated to women's wear with Hannah on his arm, subdued in a clingy, affectionate way, like a girlfriend. She was a good actress.
After counting his cash, Tom said, "If I can buy what you need for around fifty bucks, we'll have enough for laundry and dinner."
"Are you sure?"
Hannah's first selection was a pair of canvas sneakers for six dollars. The second was a pair of white cotton panties for three dollars. She asked, "Do you think I need a bra?" and then struck a pose with hands on hips and chest out, priceless.
"Uh, no, that would be a waste of money. But don't you need more than one pair of underpants?"
"Why? I don't need any until tomorrow." She smiled and wandered over to some sale-priced jeans, picked up a pair and disappeared into a fitting room.