Woman Lawyers Pt. 04

Part 4 - On the Road

My wild women were in their element. Taking their newly granted vacation, renting a roomy RV, and hitting the Interstate. After two hard days, we were in western Nebraska on the track of the pioneers. Ahead, in the late afternoon sun, was Scottsbluff, the famous limestone monolith that guided pioneer wagon trains into Wyoming and the high plains.

"I demand a photography stop soon."

"You are not in charge, but we will consider your request." Cynthia was behind the wheel of our thirty-foot RV, doing her best Thelma and Louise imitation. Fortunately, without the drugs. Christy was riding shotgun, her blazing red halter top showcasing the jock body.

Karen and I were at the settee, nestled into each other and talking. If you could call it that. She had been watching Christy with me at home, and heard the whispers about reinventing the young lesbian lawyer. Ever since we had left yesterday, she had been after me about reinvention.

None of her legal colleagues would have imagined a need for reinvention. She and her team had just won a major case whose reward was a partnership. Weren't you supposed to toast that success and get back to work?

There were problems standing in the way. Actually, one big problem and several minor ones. Her tall brawny son was home from his first university year and seemed to have taken charge of the household. She was no longer allowed to mope about losing her husband in an accident two years ago. Her unsuccessful search for male company had been abandoned, the result of an encounter with Eric's big cock. The forbidden cock that she couldn't get out of her mind. The giant shaft that she rode every morning, screaming her fool head off.

"Eric, I can't just be your slut, can I?" She stuffed my hand in the front of her shorts, where things were warm and wet.

"No, you are about to be famous, artistically that is, and have to maintain standards."

She twisted and tried to cuff my head. I silenced that with a hard kiss and my finger rubbing in her cleft. She relaxed and said, "Eric, I never should have let you submit those images."

"Nonsense. We all talked about it. Besides, nobody ever got an acceptance from that exhibit jury in twenty-four hours before.

She took a deep breath and said, "You have screwed up my life and I expect you to unscrew it!"

That had some intriguing possibilities, but Cynthia was pulling into a rest stop and I ran for my gear.

The late afternoon light was excellent. As they exited the toilet, I pointed the women to a spot where the background was natural, with a limestone cliff in the distance. As I assembled the tripod, I pushed their minds back in time.

"Imagine a modern version of the awe and tiredness which must have gripped wagon train families as they stopped near here more than a hundred and fifty years ago. Stopped, but not done for the day, with animals to be watered and fed, cook fires to be started, dirty children to be cleaned up. Men disappearing into the brush hoping to flush out fresh meat for dinner."

"Eric, we are tired just hearing your voice..." I was clicking away at wonderful expressions and a spectacular background of the monolith. I arranged Karen sitting in the dust, her daughters kneeling by her side. All three in short shorts, with legs now covered by white pumicy duff.

"Yes, today there is no more walking to Oregon, but you three are on a mission of your own. In search of a crazy place in your heads that will provide the drive and motivation to practice law with the same intensity these frontier women used to make their difficult journey west."

Detached, but in the moment. Hands and arms squeezing each other. I couldn't ask for more. Click, click, click.

"Relax in the dust for a minute. Feel the dirt the way they did. I am checking a place I saw in the brochure."

Five miles ahead was an expansive, and expensive, country B&B. Over the phone, the desk clerk said they had a cottage unit available, and it had been recently remodeled to include a spa. I took it, but only said to the women, "We have a reservation at a place about a half hour ahead. It should have a decent shower. One where you don't have to worry about emptying our fresh water tank."

They looked dubious. Cynthia said, "I haven't been this dirty since I was a kid and decided to play Pigpen with the girl next door."

Three dustbins approached with evil in their eyes. "Eric, you are way too clean. If this doesn't work out, we will roll you in the ditch."

The B&B's gate and gravel drive were intended to draw one into the past. I handled the registration and carefully parked our large vehicle by the side of a beautiful cottage, painted all white and beckoning guests.

Inside the elegant front door, Karen got an arm around my neck and hissed, "This is so clean, I feel bad even standing here in my filthy clothes."

"Karen, come quick." She padded down the corridor and joined the screams coming from the giant bathroom, with a stall shower and big tub in the floor.

"Clothes please. The registration clerk said there is a washer-dryer on the back porch."

They smiled and threw items of clothes and underwear at me in the doorway. "I can see the dirt from here. You'd better rinse in the shower before using the tub. I will bring drinks after I start the wash."

Lounging deep in the tub, they smiled at their naked barman and said, "You are to take us one at a time in the shower and shampoo our hair. If you do a good job, there will be rewards. Later."

I held out my hand to Christy and raised her from the tub. "Don't touch me! You are still dirty."

I rinsed the worst of the dirt from her head and squeezed a large ribbon of shampoo into my hands. With the water off, I pressed her front to the wall and massaged deeply into her scalp. The moans were heart rending as her thighs parted to absorb my hard cock between them.

"Oh Eric! Oh, oh, oh... Aieee!"

The stall door was yanked open. "What's going on?"

"You said to take her in the shower."

They barged into the enclosure, making a mess of shampoo suds and writhing flesh. Christy howled, "Please! More! Finish ME!"

They squeezed between her and the wall, sudsy hands working everywhere. My fingers continued their scalp massage as she bent forward, ass pushing me back, every interior muscle freezing into climax.

I retreated and they held the shuddering body up. I directed the nozzle spray to her head and rinsed it clean and shiny. She edged out of the enclosure, leaving me with two slippery horny women who wanted more of the same.

I coated my hands with shampoo and wrapped them in Cynthia's wet hair. She knew what to do, plastering her body tight to the plastic shower wall. My fingers working deep, I whispered, "This is so erotic. I've never been this hard, so wanting you."

Karen pushed me to one side, gesturing to let her soapy hands with the sharp nails attack Cynthia's curves as my cock drove full length again and again. This was a symphony of lust, hands in her hair, hands on her breasts and nipples, a long thick cock attacking her clenching cunt.

Several moaning orgasms rolled through before a fainting collapse. Karen held her tight while I rinsed. The door opened and she fell into Christy's arms, comatose.

The last one had it in for me. "This better be good. You've destroyed those women."

Her head dropped to my chest as I worked in the shampoo. Both of her hands were stroking my cock.

Softly, "Stop. I want you. I want to finish this in you."

She washed him clean of soap as my hands left her head to raise and lower the body slowly down until I was fully buried. She wrapped legs and I pushed her hips against the wall as I returned to the lush hair.

"Don't be in a hurry. This is very nice."

We played the game of squeeze and thrust as I turned to rinse her head, using one hand to keep us tight.

"Now!" she squealed, with a final clench that sent us over the top.

An outside hand reached in to turn off the hot. I dallied under the freezing spray, loving the kiss, the pounding hands, the feet beating my ass.

Still drying, we entered a bedroom with two vixens on their towels, lotioning each other, eyes still slitted.

Karen and I found places to lick and bite until they screamed, "Enough!"

Pairs of bodies worked towels, brushes, dryers and combs.

"That was totally evil. You have spoiled us forever. Every time I think shampooing, I will remember your incredible cock driving me insane." Christy was teary and laughing at the same time. She flattened me and flexed her hips into mine.

Cynthia smiled and said, "Sex makes me hungry. Do you suppose there is any room service? I really don't want to scrounge in the van."

Hair under control, we lay there in a heap, loving the warm skin contact. They hummed and I softly caressed the beautiful boobs and tight behinds. They had lost their inhibitions, and no longer reached for underwear when we were lounging together.

I was just thinking about uploading the camera when Karen said, "I suppose you have a magazine you want to send those images to?"

The young ones said, "Go ahead. Let us worry about food. We will inquire. Karen can rescue the drinks and top them up."

The twelve inch screen of my laptop didn't do the photos justice, but they were very good. A little bit of Hopper, some of Walker Evans and his photo-journalism. A little, I hoped, of Eric and his stories to get the women in the right mood.

"Food is coming," Cynthia and Christy announced, as they sat on the edge of the bed with fresh drinks to see what I had.

"Oh my, Eric, you have done it again." I paged slowly through image after image. A remarkable number were exactly what I had been seeking.

Karen pulled my head back on her thigh. "He is becoming an artist. We are lucky to be his models."

The soft kisses had a lot of passion in them. I closed my eyes. "Lucky."

There were three beds in the cottage but, not surprisingly, four bodies occupied the one king.

"Karen, he is going to win a prize for those first portraits of you. And inflated offers to buy all the available images. Then Christy and I are going to be discovered. Then his photojournalism at Scottsbluff. Yesterday afternoon's shots are probably going to pay for this whole trip. What are we going to do?"

My sexy loving mother was squirming under their attack, mumbling, "Aren't three smart lawyers supposed to figure that out?"

I had a bowl of homemade chili with all kinds of delicious additions and sat to one side, smiling.

They stopped wrestling and lay back, grinning at me. "Tell us another story."

I had been waiting for an opening and began,

"The young man had finished high school with top grades. His home room teacher, who also taught English, arranged a lunch date at a secluded spot out of town, saying she could do it without getting in trouble because he was no longer her student and was over eighteen.

The food was delicious and she made sure they finished two glasses of wine apiece. He filled the conversation with anxious questions about his freshman English class at the local university. Finally, she said, 'Come, we will go to the lake cottage, which is only thirty minutes away. I will answer questions there.'

The cottage was isolated and private. Handing him another bottle of wine and glasses, she led the way to a dock at the water's edge. He was just sitting down at the rustic table when he noticed she was discarding clothes.

'Come swim with me. Questions later.'

He was about to say he had no suit when she dropped her underwear and dove in, swimming strongly out into the lake. He had no choice except to follow.

When he caught up, she splashed him and said, 'I heard you broke up with Melanie.'

He tried to push back. 'That's not teacher gossip,' he said, knowing full well it was. She closed with him, found his lips with hers and dragged him under, wrapping legs and arms tightly.

Back at the surface, breathing hard, she hissed, 'You are mine for the rest of today. I don't have a boyfriend and you don't have a girlfriend, so we can do anything we want.' She rubbed her tits on his chest and said, 'Take us back. Use your backstroke.'

They had no towels. She shook like a dog and walked straight into his arms. 'You can have me right here over the table, or we can go inside.'

I halted my tale and stood, offering more dinner. Eyes flashed. "You can't just stop there. Tell us what happened."

I walked away to groans and oaths. Minutes later, I returned with an assortment of dishes and said, "There are several endings. Which do you prefer? She has an incredible body, but he is not sure they won't get in trouble for having sex, even out here at the lake."

"Eric, she is all worked up. His cock is hard and pointing at her. She has been reading porn about young guys falling for older women."

"You're right, Christy, she can't take any more waiting, but is worried she will scare him off with the full body press she is applying."

Karen had caught on to my game and said in a calm voice, "Eric, they are both horny as sin. His big thing is poking her in the belly. She makes a lot of noise when she has sex, but doesn't care. All that matters is getting his cock inside her, right now."

Cynthia joined the story circle. "He is surprised but holding her close. No girl has ever come on to him before. On dates, he spent most of the time convincing Melanie she needed to relax and enjoy some makeout. And never got very far. He wonders what his teacher feels like inside. His cock is only inches away and is shouting for him to get busy. All his inhibitions disappear and he thrusts forward. But suddenly, she has fainted and fallen away."

Karen moved dishes out of the way while the other two stripped my clothes off. They hadn't bothered to put anything on after the shower and rubbed moist parts on me.

Now I was in a fix. Four bodies were hot and wet. The formerly hostile faces pink with desire, wanting his cock and wanting the rest of the story, which they hadn't finished.

Christy jumped in, upending the tale. "She cries out, 'I can't, I can't! I am a lesbian! I am so sorry!' "

I cheered to myself. Another fine opening. In a few seconds, she was straddled over my hips, facing the others as my hands forced her wet tunnel firmly down over my throbbing shaft. My growl was fierce, "What happens to women who tease about wanting hetero sex?"

She relaxed into me, sighing. "Eric, this is too close to home. I come on your cock every time but I'm still confused."

I pulled Karen closer, bending Christy forward. "Kiss your lover. Tell her your dark secret. Let it all out!"

They wailed, collapsing as I pulled out and took Cynthia into my arms and walked us out on the back porch.

Her voice was very low. "Was the story supposed to end that way?"

I threw a towel at the wicker swing and sat down. She smothered me with her long hair and asked again, "Was it?"

I reclined so she could stretch out. "I wanted to draw you into an imagination about sex. About uninhibited partner sex. Did it work?"

"Oh god." Eyes closed, head down, she was dreaming in seconds.

We woke later, shivering, and crawled into the big bed with two other bodies.

In the morning sun, their eyes stared at me accusingly. "That was horrible. You messed with our emotions again!"

I crawled around, playing with their boobs, dueling with tongues. "It worked, didn't it? Like a purge? Look how limp you are. I should get the camera and take images of your wonderful bodies sprawled on a bed in morning light."

The sprawled bodies came alive with clenched fists beating me. Cynthia said, "He told me last night we must be uninhibited. Sexually uninhibited."

They sat in a circle, batting at my hard equipment. "He's been reading Kerouac. Trying to make us into clean slates. Ready for a life on the road. Probably has a stash hidden somewhere."

I retrieved some lotion from the dresser and went to work. It was decadent, sensual and satisfying. My cock thought so too, waving at them and threatening their crotches. They held each other's hands and said nothing. I worked my way up calves and thighs, digging deep. Some eyes were closed, some wide open. I arranged their legs apart, drizzling lotion into wet creases. No one said anything as he smoothly was received into them. Small squeezes, small thrusts. No inhibitions. Quiet sex in a remote western bedroom in the morning sun.

I gazed at the relaxed bodies from the edge of the bed and finally said, "On the road, women. The west is calling. I will find coffee and return."

The tray had rolls and juice as well as coffee. They had run themselves through the shower. The lacy underwear looked fine. I got small kisses and whispered thank you's. I was succeeding in getting their minds off work and city life. There was a sustained four-way hug.

We followed the two lane road west and north, heading toward Sheridan, gateway to the Big Horn mountains, scene of many battles with Indians as the Wyoming Territory was settled.

"Listen up. Now that you have been cleansed of all lawyer thoughts, it is time for you to assume new identities and new personalities. If this doesn't work, you can beat me. We are heading for a guest ranch west of Sheridan, at the foot of the Big Horns. We have a streamside cabin all to ourselves, and will ride into the hills every day.

"The reason you are doing this is because your aged parents, who retired in Cody, died within weeks of each other recently, and left you some money with a request that you spend it enjoying Wyoming back country.

"You are the only children, three sisters. Through accidents of divorce, breakup, and indecision, you are each single. For some strange reason, you have invited your young cousin Eric, who is at the university in Rawlins, to come along for company and to take pictures."

I stopped and waited.

"You said we have to assume new identities, new personalities."

"Yes. They have to be based on Wyoming lives and lifestyles. When we take a rest stop break, the young cousin is going for a walk, and the three of you will decide what your assignments are. After that, we will find a second hand shop along the way, and you will purchase appropriate clothing."

There was an extended silence as we drove through the gorgeous countryside, still green from spring rains.

Christy pulled over at a wide spot. "You drive. We don't have to wait for a stop. We are going in the back and pulling the curtain."

I hummed as the RV followed the rising road, one hill revealing another. My anxieties about going on a trip with three brilliant and high strung lawyers were diminishing. They liked my images of their bodies, and they liked the feel of my cock inside them.

Before long we were pulling into Sheridan, an original frontier town now lapsed into a tourist spot. Karen stood by my side, guiding us to an offstreet parking space large enough for the van.

"It's time for the uniform du jour, washed jeans and plaid shirts. You may come along and advise if you wish, but perhaps some photography is in order."

They disappeared around a corner, leaving me to my photography. I had a thought and dug out the medium format Mamiya. A few blocks away, facing down the main drag from the elevated end, I perched it on my tripod, and focused down the sidewalk. Setting the timer to take an image every thirty seconds, I retired across the street with my small mirrorless body and a zoom.

I didn't have long to wait. A mother and son came along, the youngster eyeing the camera and hearing the shutter click. "Mom," he shouted, "it took a picture!" The mother looked around for someone responsible for the camera and was confused. An elderly couple came up to hear the son say, "It took another picture, Mom!"