Vision of the Spirit Ch. 08bywilderness©
It was a miracle that Tom was able to hold back his orgasm. If Hannah had touched him, or thrust a few more times, he couldn't have prevented a seminal eruption. Fortunately, things worked according to plan, or didn't work in this case. Determined to show her that she was more than a sex object, he willfully fought against pleasure. While she fucked him, he mentally inventoried his truck, balanced his bank account and calculated his modest investment dividends to the end of the year. There was money to be earned, if he intended to buy the Midway motel.
Now resting naked on his lap, Hannah looked up at him and stroked a bundle of her hair, wearing the familiar face of concern. "Do you want me to play with you some more? It feels so weird when you don't come."
He hugged her and said, "No thanks. We'd better get out of here while the rain's slowed." His dick began to stiffen again, as he watched her dress. Hastily, he pulled on his pants.
Tom descended the hayloft ladder first, intending to grab some firm ass when she climbed down. He'd made it halfway, when the barn door opened and Mr. Wentworth came in, followed by two men, leading three horses.
Quickly, Tom climbed back up and whispered, "Hannah, stay here. Don't come down until I tell you."
"Maybe nothing, but we've got visitors -- men with horses. And one of the horses looks familiar." Without another word, he rushed down and walked toward the new arrivals. They stopped when he approached. The two strangers gave him an angry glare, like he'd killed their best friend. Tom smiled, and said, "All finished with the cabins, Mr. Wentworth." He pointed. "Did you want the cart put in the storeroom over there?"
"Yeah, that's where it goes. What were ya doin' back there?"
"Just looking the place over. This is a cool old barn. How old is it?"
"Damned if I know." The old man grabbed Tom's arm and pulled him back the way he came, saying over his shoulder to the horsemen, "Put the nags in the stalls that got sawdust. The kid's gonna throw down some hay for ya."
When they were out of earshot, the old man whispered, "I got a bad feeling about these swabs. They got pissy attitudes. Go get 'em some hay, but don't talk to 'em. They ain't said ten words since they got here. I don't wana give 'em any reason to wreck the place. I've seen some assholes slink across the boarder before, and these guys fit the mold."
Wentworth pointed up. "There's a trapdoor right in the middle of the floor. Toss down a fresh bale."
"Okay, Boss." Tom smiled.
The old veteran shook his head and cackled. "You oughta take your girl up there sometime. Nothin' more fun than a real roll in the hay."
"Thanks for the tip. I'll remember that," he said, climbing back up.
"Maybe I should rent the hayloft by the hour, like them city whorehouses."
Hannah waited impatiently at the top. "Was it them?"
"I think so."
"Oh my God," she hissed.
"Chill, Hannah. Just stay out of sight. It'll be okay." He grabbed a bale of hay and carried it to the trap door. "Stand back." The hinges squeaked as it swung open. "Look out below!" Tom kicked down the hay and dropped the door. "I'll come back for you when it's safe."
Hannah groaned and stroked her hair faster.
"It's okay. Just stay put."
Tom hurried back down, pulled the twine off the bale and threw slabs of hay into the stall feed racks. As he worked, he ignored Wentworth's advice. "Where you guys from? Been up in the mountains? Beautiful up there, isn't it."
They stood silent, with arms folded, and watched him work.
"I like horses, but I'm always afraid I'll get kicked. They can do some serious damage."
Wentworth broke in. "Why don't you fellas go get settled in your rooms. We'll take good care of the hay burners."
They looked at each other. One gave a head tilt signal to leave, and they did.
"What the hell were you doin'. I told you not to bug 'em."
"Sorry, Boss. Just trying to put the customers at ease."
"Bah… give 'em a descent room and leave 'em alone. That's all they want."
Tom finished up, and they walked back toward the motel. The horsemen were hauling familiar black duffel bags from the horse trailer to cabin number 3.
"You think they're drug smugglers?" asked Tom.
"What? What made you say that?"
"I don't know, just a hunch."
"Well, don't go stickin' your nose in where it don't belong, unless you wanna get it wiped…off your face." The old man laughed.
"So, how about a job?"
"Are you good with your hands? Maybe I should ask your girl, Pocahontas."
"You're a dirty old man. You know that?"
"It's all talk, Chief." He turned and headed toward home. "All I got left is bullshit."
"I want a job!"
"Ask me tomorrow."
Tom waited until the men had closed the cabin door, and then went back to collect Hannah.
She was so frightened that she didn't even react to his hands fondling her ass as she climbed down the ladder. "What'll we do now?"
"I don't know yet, but somehow, I'm getting the cops to check 'em out."
She clutched his arm, as they sneaked through the brush to the back of their cabin. "I should tell you something."
"Uh-oh. That sounds bad."
Seconds passed before Hannah continued. "I think Mr. Wentworth is related to Toby, the pilot of the airplane. His name was Tobias Wentworth, and he told me he knew the mountains and lakes in the area, because he grew up around here. I didn't even think of it, until now."
Tom stopped and thought for a while. Then he grabbed her by the arms, kissed her, and said, "Thanks for telling me, Babe." He pulled out his wallet, gave her 40 dollars and the keys to the truck, saying, "Go into town and hide. Get something to eat, go to the store, the bar, anywhere. Don't come back until after 11:00."
Her eyes grew big and round. "Don't do it."
"Don't do what."
"Whatever stupid thing you're about to do."
"These guys are dangerous. I don't want you to get hurt… or worse."
In a voice harder than he intended, Tom said, "Do what I tell you. Remember, you belong to me now."
Wrapping her arms around him, she laid her head on his shoulder and hugged. They stood quietly for long seconds, before she walked away without a backward glance.
The drive to town took only five minutes. That left four hours and thirty-two minutes to kill. Hannah would do whatever Tom asked. She owed him her life, and liked being indebted to him. She liked belonging to someone that wanted her for more than a good fuck. The thought of losing him frightened her. The thought of food made her nervous stomach queasy. So she drove back to the strip mall, sat in the parking lot, and envied the families strolling in and out. As the night wore on, traffic became light. The grocery store was the only business open after 7 p.m.
A pregnant woman in a green sedan parked next to Hannah. The woman smiled at her through the window, and then frowned briefly when her eyes focused on Hannah's scratches. Twenty minutes later, she came back with a cartload of bags. She opened the trunk, stood up straight and rubbed her belly for a while.
Hannah rolled down the window, and asked, "Do you need some help?"
The pretty redhead smiled. "No, I'm just feeling the baby kick." Then she became serious, and said, "How about you? Do you need help? You look a little banged up."
Tired of feeling worried and lonely, Hannah got out and limped over. "I'm okay. My life just sucks sometimes." She started transferring the bags from the cart to the trunk.
"Thank you. You're very kind. If my husband knew I was out doing this, he'd be mad. He's a little overprotective. Thinks because I'm pregnant I shouldn't work too hard." She grimaced and declared, "I'm delicate."
"He sounds like a good man."
The woman sighed, and said, "Yeah, he is. Too good a man to have any fun with, sometimes. But, since he's a cop, he has to set a good example. So, I give him some slack." She laughed. "I can't believe I just said that."
Setting in the last bag, Hannah said, "Your secret's safe with me," and then thought to herself, she's a cop's wife. I could use a friend like her. "Your husband works at night?"
The cutely freckled face laughed again. It was a light, easy laugh of happy contentment. "Actually, he's the police chief. That means he works all the time. They call, and he's gone."
"So, he got a call tonight?" Immediately, she thought of Tom and what might be happening at the motel.
A troubled look darkened the woman's grin. "It's nothing much, a minor disturbance." She held out her hand, "Hi, I'm Annie. Nice to meet you."
Smiling at one another, they shook hands.
"Hi, I'm Hannah. Nice to meet you, too."
"Okay Hannah, spill the beans, what's your story? What's a pretty girl like you doing in a parking lot like this, all scratched up and limping?"
"Whoa. Now there's a question with a complicated answer." The bizarre truth could not be told, so she hedged. "I've had some trouble. I'm just waiting for it to blow over."
Annie stared at her, and then raised her hands in disappointment. "That's it?"
"How long are you going to wait?"
"Well then, why don't you follow me home and wait there. You can help with me with the groceries, so when Big Willie gets home he won't be angry. We can keep each other company."
"Big Willie?" Hannah laughed. "Police Chief Big Willie?"
Annie touched Hannah's arm, leaned in close and whispered, "Please, don't tell anyone I called him Big Willie. That's my personal pet name for… him." A blush colored her face.
"You're trusting me with a lot of secrets, Annie. And you don't even know me."
"I'm a good judge of character. I know I can trust you, because I can tell that you keep secrets of your own." Annie gently rubbed Hannah's arm, and added, "Maybe later you'll share some with me."
The compliment and kind touch gave Hannah goose bumps. Making friends with Annie might be a good move. She'd be a powerful ally. "I think I'll take you up on your offer. I don't know anyone else around here."
The house -- a two-story colonial with white siding and black shutters -- was on a dead-end road, set back and hidden by oak trees. All it needed was a white picket fence to be the American dream stereotype.
Annie stepped in the unlocked front door and turned on a light. "Excuse the mess."
There was no mess. A newspaper lay on the floor. Hannah scanned the framed photos hung on the wall and immediately recognized the cop who interrogated them earlier today. "Is this your husband?"
Annie sighed, "Yes, that's my Big Willie." She continued into the kitchen. "Bring the bags in here, and I'll put the stuff away."
After Hannah made the last trip, Annie asked, "Why are you limping?"
"Oh, I've got some blisters."
"Turn on the TV and take a seat on the couch. I'm going to change my clothes. Then I'll make a foot bath and you can soak your feet."
"Don't bother. I probably should go."
"No bother. Go relax."
Hannah thought it over, and decided she'd rather have company, than sit in the truck alone. So, she did what she was told. It was a very cozy, middle-class living room, with lots of knick-knacks to feed the eye. The huge comfy couch perfect for afternoon naps. The inviting smell of a recent meal reminded her stomach it was empty. She envied Annie and Willie, and realized the chrome and neon lights of Vegas had lost their appeal. Someday, maybe her life would be this solid. The possibility of having Tom's baby in the near future made her smile.
"Nice to see you looking happy." Annie placed a tub of warm, soapy water at Hannah's feet. "What were you thinking about?"
While removing her socks, she said, "I was thinking about how nice it must be to have a home like this and a family." When the water enveloped her aching feet, she sank back into the cushions. "Ahhh."
Annie smiled at her. "Feels good?"
She sat down close beside her guest. "How'd you get so scratched up?" When Hannah's body visibly tensed, she said, "I promise, whatever you say won't be used against you."
"Are you a lawyer?"
"No, just an old, bored, married lady, looking for some excitement," she said, and touched Hannah's forehead. "Do they hurt?"
"Not anymore, they kinda itch, now."
For the first time, Hannah noticed the see-through quality of the lacy button-down blouse Annie changed into. It didn't cover her belly completely, or the fact that she was braless. The baggy green shorts were low on her hips, staying up by magic.
Annie's soft finger traced the marks on her face. "You're a beautiful girl, Hannah. Fortunately, they don't look bad enough to leave a scar. Does this feel good?"
It did feel good, a feathery touch, more than friendly. Hannah's experience with latent sexuality and seduction began to ring alarm bells. "Yes," she said, in an apprehensive whisper. This was the police chief's wife. What had she gotten herself into now?
"How'd it happen?" Annie asked, while pushing the long dark strands of hair aside to trace the red lines down Hannah's neck and into her shirt collar.
Hannah closed her eyes and relinquished her body to a stranger, like only a working girl could. "I fell through some pine branches."
"Where do they stop?" The bold woman's fingers unbuttoned Hannah's top two shirt buttons and pulled the loose fabric apart.
Maybe the scandalous truth would stop her. "They don't. I was naked at the time."
Annie laughed. "Oh my. There's a good story waiting to be told." After a few seconds of waiting, she stroked Hannah's cheek with the back of her fingers, and said, "You're wearing a man's shirt. Was it his fault? Did he hurt you?"
Why did everything have to get so screwed up? She thought of Tom, and the danger he might be in. The grim possibilities caused tears to well up and run down her cheeks. Hannah didn't know what to say or what to do. Tonight, everything hung in the balance, and what she did now might determine both their fates. If angered, Annie might destroy everything she hoped for. If pleased, Annie could be an important key to her future happiness. So, under pressure, she decided not to instigate anything. She simply said, "No, he didn't do it. He saved my life. I love him."
The cushions shifted as Annie turned away, and with a new coolness in her voice said, "I hope everything works out for you." She picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Annie held Hannah's hand, while they watched 'Alias'.
Halfway through the program, Annie said, "I think she is so hot."
Hannah smiled and nodded.
Suddenly, Annie grabbed her swollen stomach, "Wow! That was a big one. Little Willie's wide awake." She turned to Hannah. "Have you ever felt a baby kick?"
"No, I haven't."
Annie pulled Hannah's compliant hand over and placed the open palm on her bare belly. Soon, there was the unmistakable sensation of a push. She laughed. "That is so weird. How does it feel inside?"
"I love it. The whole idea of making a baby is a major turn on." She continued to move Hannah's hand around to feel the baby's activity. After a while, she said, "That's my biggest problem."
"What's a problem?"
"Being turned on, all the time. For some bizarre reason, I can't get enough sex right now. My body is like wired for orgasm, and I'm insatiable, a bona fide nymphomaniac. Poor Big Willie is worn out. He doesn't know what to do with me." Annie dragged Hannah's palm upward and pressed it against her breast. She looked her straight in the eye, and whispered, "I'm desperate. My nipples are so sensitive, I'd come if somebody would just play with them."
They'd reached a critical moment. Hannah didn't dare pull away. Was this really what Annie wanted? She waited for a sign.
They stared at one another for tense seconds. Annie didn't release her hand. Instead, her brow knitted together and she pressed Hannah's palm tighter to her chest. "Please?"
In answer, Hannah made a nervous grin and squeezed her boob a little.
Annie loosened her grip and closed her eyes. "Oh thank you, just play with them a little. The way it would feel good to you."
Annie leaned back.
The areolas were clearly visible through the sheer blouse. It was easy for Hannah to tease in the right places. Soon, the excited nipples marked the exact spots. She gently twisted them through the fabric.
"That feels wonderful." Annie stopped her, unbutton the shirt, and spread it open. Her sultry green eyes watched Hannah's reaction at the unveiling.
"You're very pretty. I think your freckles are so cute." Annie's flesh felt soft and hot. Her breasts were heavy.
"My nipples are very sensitive, be gentle."
The splash of the footbath, when Hannah turned to use two hands, broke the mood.
Annie giggled, and pulled her shirt together. "I'm sorry. This is stupid. Here you are, all beat up, and I'm feeling sorry for myself. I'm taking advantage of your bad situation."
There was a prolonged silence, as she waited for Hannah to offer a comment. But Hannah didn't know what was best. Should she act like a victim, start to cry and leave? Should she play the aggressor or the innocent maid? Maybe a neutral statement would suffice. "I think my feet are done." As she dried them off, she added, "They feel much better. Thank you." She picked up the tub and said, "I'll go dump this down the toilet."
When she came out of the bathroom Annie was waiting in the hallway, her shirt still unbuttoned, covering everything but an inch of skin down the center.
"Hannah… I think maybe… there should be a witness to your injuries. Just in case you want to file charges… sometime."
"Really? Then I should go to an emergency room?"
Annie smiled and actually blushed. "No, I thought… if you'd like… I could be your witness. I am the Chief's wife, after all. No one would doubt my word."
The halting statement told Hannah that Annie wasn't familiar with seducing young girls. This wasn't a common occurrence, and probably only a recent manifestation of unhappiness or discontent. She felt sympathy for her. She also realized, whatever happened, no one would believe her story over Annie's. The best option was not to make her angry. "Okay, if you want to."
"Come into the guest room," said Annie, taking her by the hand and leading the way. "If you're ever desperate, and need a place to stay, you're welcome to stay here." She closed the bedroom door behind them.
What a strange thing for her to say. Hannah was touched and confused by the generous offer. "Thank you."
Deciding she wasn't going to play the modest maiden any longer, Hannah stood with her back to Annie, unbuttoned her shirt and let it drop to the floor. A few seconds later, her jeans pooled around her ankles, no panties. She collected her hair and brought it to the front. "How do I look?"
Carpeted footfalls were soon followed by a gentle finger tracing along an itchy scab. A hushed voice near her left shoulder said, "Looks like you're healing fine. Any pain?"
Two hands ran along her shoulders, down her back and stopped on her bottom, one hand on each cheek. Fingers began to knead her flesh, as a small mouth kissed her neck and a bare belly pressed against her spine.
Hannah spun around. A naked pregnant woman stood before her, grinning sheepishly and blushing. Annie was a little shorter, but not much.
"After what happened in the living room, not really." Determined not make the first move, Hannah remained motionless.
Annie's eyes traveled down her body, making a visual inspection. Then one hand reached out and moved the mass of ebony hair aside to uncover the one hidden breast. "You are lovely, Hannah." A freckled hand came up to lie on her right breast, then lightly brushed down over her nipple. "I must look like a fat cow next to you."