Saturday night – date night in the mountains
"And you didn't go home with him?"
I had to laugh. Eva's like the bestest friend that a girl could ever have. She took me in after I left Connor and we'd become even closer. She was always looking out for me, and according to her the best thing for me would be a studly man to screw me silly the way that my ex never could.
"Nope." I laughed again. "What kind of girl do you think I am, anyhow?"
Of course Eva knows exactly what kind of girl I am, but I think I've managed to hide from her just how overwhelming my desires can be. As good a friend as she is, I'm pretty certain that her pussy doesn't push her around like mine does me.
For example, I'd had to run to my room and play with myself as soon as I'd gotten home last night. My pussy demanded it, and I was her willing ally. After all, I had promised her that I'd try to make up for not getting fucked by Ethan. I ripped off my clothes, propped up my pillows, spread my legs and took my time giving my soaking slit the attention that it had been clamoring for. I panted and gasped in pleasure when the orgasm took me, and when it was over I curled around my pillow, pretending that it was Ethan Russell. Nestled comfortably in his arms I drifted off to a peaceful nights sleep. I should have known better.
The problem was that one whopping cum wasn't enough to satisfy my supercharged libido. I slept fitfully, and every time I neared consciousness my greedy little slit demanded more. In the middle of the night I masturbated again, imagining that Ethan was watching me. Connor never watched me. He always felt that if I didn't get off from his cock alone then there was just something wrong with me. He thought it was weak of me to still need my fingers after he'd fucked me. Maybe he was right. My imaginary Ethan, however, was delighted and excited to watch my wet fingers tease my clit through another good orgasm. Even later in the night I was awakened by the gentle throbbing between my legs insisting on still more attention. I tickled it through another cum pretending that I was masturbating while Ethan fucked me. When I finally got up in the morning I was tired from keeping my pussy company all night.
Those are the kind of things that I don't tell Eva.
"I know exactly what kind of girl you are," she said laughing. "You're a slut at heart. A tart in training. A gay divorcee who's going to make up for all of those years when you were married to Connor." She laughed and I tried to look demure and innocent and appalled that she would think such a thing, even if it was true. I don't think I pulled it off.
"Baby, you should get to sleep with a hunky cowboy if you want to. You deserve it after Connor. Are you sure he's going to call you?"
"I guess so. He said he would. He'd better." I wished I was as confident as I sounded. The fact of the matter is that a girl always wonders whether or not she's going to be called the next morning no matter how the evening went. And I was having next-morning doubts right then. What if he'd decided that I was only a bit of fluff good for bar company but not worth pursuing? What if he was really married? What if my kiss hadn't turned him on the way I'd been turned on? What if he was having second thoughts of his own? I used my memory of his hard cock pressing against my tummy while he was kissing me to push my negative thoughts away.
But they came rushing back as I realized something – I'd never given him Eva's phone number. I thought back over the evening and I was sure of it. I was screwed. He had no way to find me. Eva saw the realization come over my face.
"What is it? What's the matter?" she said.
"I didn't give him the phone number," I said. I went immediately from giddy and hopeful to miserable, and it showed in my voice and tears welled up in my eyes. I tried to be brave and not actually break out crying in frustration. Connor had changed our number after I'd moved out and I wasn't listed anywhere as long as I was living with Eva. I'd finally met the cowboy of my dreams and he couldn't find me. What was I going to do? My imagination suddenly flashed a picture of myself hanging out at the Rattlesnake Cantina every night for the rest of my life, growing old and fighting off advances from the pretend cowboys while I waited for Ethan Russell to walk through the door. Depressing is way too mild a word.
"Oh, my." Eva thought for a minute. "Well, you know I don't usually recommend this, but I think you could make an exception this time. Why don't you just call him?"
The hope that Eva might have a solution flared briefly and went out as I ran last night through my head. "Nope. He didn't give me his number either."
"Don't look so crestfallen. We're not giving up yet." Eva's tone was buoyant and I borrowed some strength from it. Like I said, she's the best friend a girl could ever have.
"I've got a computer and I know how to use it!" She walked over to her desk, sat down and started typing industriously. I stood behind her and put on my glasses so that I could look at the computer screen over her shoulder as she clicked on the white pages.
"What did you say his last name was?" she asked.
Like I'd ever forget. "Russell. Ethan Russell."
Eva typed it into the box and hit the enter key. The machine said, 'Sorry, no matches were found.' That was me. No matches. I felt even worse than I had before.
"Don't worry. That probably just means he's unlisted. Let's Google him and see what happens." Good ol' Eva – I wouldn't have thought of that in a million years. This time we were luckier, if you want to call it that. 'Ethan Russell' returned over 300,000 hits. My heart sank.
Eva narrowed the search to Colorado but still got 27,000 hits, all of which had and Ethan and a Russell, but no Ethan Russell. She narrowed the search further by putting his name in quotes, which reduced the hits to 114. We painstakingly went through each link, but they were all for wrong. Wrong age, wrong state, wrong era, wrong picture. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I was beyond discouraged. What was I going to do?
"Well that sucks," I said. I thought I was being pretty cool about it. I wasn't screaming anyway.
"Hang on," Eva said. "I have another idea."
Eva linked her way to a site that displayed public records. This time we got lucky. When she punched in 'Ethan Russell' and Colorado there were only a handful of hits. But in order to access them you had to pay $7.95.
"Do you want to do it?" she asked. At least I think that's what she said. I was already in my room getting a charge card out of my purse and it was hard to hear her.
I was running back to her waving my plastic money when the phone rang. Dammit. I had more important things to do than talk on the phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Is this Miss Shelley?" Ohmigod. It was him. "This is Ethan Russell. From the Rattlesnake? Last night?"
God help me, I liked how he sounded a little unsure of himself. He was so different from the confident man who had pulled my hair and kissed me until my knees went weak. It made me feel sexy and wonderful that talking to me could erode his calm like that.
"Hi," I said brightly. I had gone over what I was going to say when he called a hundred times since last night – saucy comments that made me look clever and happy that he called. But all of my carefully constructed dialogue flew out the window as my pussy resumed screaming at me that she wanted Ethan's cock.
"Shut up," I whispered to my crotch.
"What?" said Ethan. "I didn't catch that."
"Nothing," I said. "I'm glad you called." I was practically purring into the phone but I didn't care. I wanted to be cool, but curiosity claimed my tongue. "But how'd you get my number?"
He laughed. "Yeah, well I realized I hadn't asked you for it right after we left, which pretty much ruined my theatrical exit. But I went to school at CSU, and I have a friend who went there with me. He works in the computer department now. I figured he'd have access to the student database and he did. I owe him a six-pack. Um, I hope you don't mind?" He sounded embarrassed that he'd gone to such trouble, but I was more than delighted. All of that work to find me when he could have just let me go meant that I hadn't imagined our connection.
"No, I don't mind," I said shyly, waving to Eva to try to get her to keep quiet. I felt like a silly junior high school girl with a crush on the boy who's finally called, and not at all like a divorced woman with a libido that drove her to look for cowboys in country and western bars.
"I thought, you know, maybe if you're free, you'd like to have dinner with me tonight? I have a friend that owns a little restaurant up in the mountains. It'd be a long drive, but we'd have a chance to talk."
"That sounds like fun," I said. I was proud of how cool my voice sounded. "I'd love to. But I need to know what to wear. A girl doesn't like to be overdressed. Is cowgirl OK, or is that just for real buckle bunnies?" I figured that even if he wasn't a real cowboy there had to be a reason I found him in a country bar. And I sure as hell wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to pander to his tastes if it would get me into his pants. Stockings? A pantsuit? A dress? I'd wear anything he wanted.
Ethan chuckled. I had totally forgotten how that sound drove straight between my legs. It was like a little sonic vibrator reaching through the phone line and touching my most sensitive spot. A delicious shiver radiated from between my legs.