The sign right outside Fields said Frenchglen--52 miles. It was a beautiful drive, through the Catlow Valley, past the Roaring Springs Ranch, aptly named for all the springs gushing out of the hillside right above the ranch house. Cattle in pasture after pasture, there must have been thousands in those fifty-two miles.
This side of the Steens is so much different than the east side; it's lush, green, a gentle slope, and has ranch after ranch. The other side, where my battery died, is hundreds of square miles of the Alvord Desert, an ancient, dry lakebed, perfectly flat, another place like the Bonneville Salt Flats where racers try for world speed records because of the long, smooth, hard-baked terrain, then the rough, vertical cliffs extending thousands of feet to the summit; two completely different worlds.
The Steens Mountain Loop Road, South entrance, took off about halfway to Frenchglen, a loop I'd researched. The little guidebook said that it was usually closed until around the first of August from snow, and that there'd be hundreds of wild horses on the loop, not that I was overly interested in them that evening, I had other things on my mind.
A little later after about a ten-mile, curvy downhill stretch, I came to the town (I guess it's actually known as a town) of Frenchglen. There's no store, a tiny post office, an ancient hotel, and four houses. It made Fields look like a metropolis, I think it had six houses, AND a store. But alas, no hotel. I guess that kind of evens them out a little more.
Right at the edge of town is a road taking off to the east, the North Steens Loop and Page Springs Campground, where Naomi, my new friend (and hopefully, in a few hours a MUCH better friend) said they were camped.
There's an old historical ranch barely out of town. I stopped there alongside the road to make some minor 'adjustments'.
Such as makeup, check clothes, etc. I would have loved to have my vanity from home, but the little sink and mirror in my van would have to do. Luckily, I'd brought along my travel makeup kit, just in case. My skin is kind of a light olive shade, very soft. I started with a little BB cream, applying it in circular motions to even out my skin tone, then my eyes -- a ginger-rose eye shadow. I'd done this many times, so even with my eyes closed I could blend in the colors on my eyelids. To make the look even more dramatic, I applied my extra black Perversion eyeliner and extra volume mascara, all of it from 'Just for Redheads'.
When I opened my eyes and looked, I couldn't help but smile at the way they 'popped'. I was sure that both Jason and Naomi would like it.
I brushed a little Coralista blush to my cheeks and finally opted for a deep red Maybelline lip gloss. I thought the look was stunning, even if I did say so myself. The face in the mirror looked like a foxy vixen, exactly the kind of look I wanted.
Next, my hair. I love my hair, flowing to my shoulder; sleek, straight, and silky red. I brushed it and got out my curler, giving it deep waves, then took a quarter of it from the top and pulled it to the back, so it was part up, part down, then clipped it in the center with a large black flower decoration. I thought about spraying it for a little hold, but preferred it softer and loose.
Perfume, I need perfume. I'd put in several from home, (why? Just because I like to smell nice, even if it is only me) pleased when I saw the one I wanted, chuckling a little that I'd even brought it. It was the sexiest, most man-crazy that I owned, one I'd bought from Victoria's Secret for my wedding night. I sprayed a little on my wrist, rubbing it on the other as well, then my cleavage and neck. I smiled, thinking how naughty I was, adding just a little 'down below'.
I love that perfume, so sexy, the smell of jasmine, coconut, and magnolia filling my nostrils. If Naomi had been wearing it, there'd be no way that I could resist her.
Lastly, my outfit. I looked at myself, liking what I saw. Like I said before, I worked hard to maintain what I thought (Aaron confirming it regularly) was a very attractive, sexy body. My shorts would have made the real Daisy Duke blush, not much more than the matching bottom to the thin, skimpy bikini top I was wearing, I thought a little mystery would add to the mystique, so I dug out the bikini's matching coverup. It was a silky, flowery material, not really intended to hide anything, plenty sheer to show what is (and isn't) under it.
I didn't have any heels, which wouldn't have been appropriate anyway, but I did have a nice pair of strappy sandals I like a lot. (so does Aaron, but I could wear a burlap bag with cutouts and he'd think it was sexy).
I checked one last time in the mirror. Sometimes, a girl is her own worst critic, but I liked what I saw, my rock-hard nipples visually demonstrating how I was feeling, sexy as hell. I was hoping that Jason and Naomi would like, too.
There had hardly been another thought in my mind the last few hours besides this moment. Now that it was here, I was scared out of my mind. My nerves have been less when giving closing statements in court, trying to keep a client out of prison. Who would have thought, when I discovered that dead battery this afternoon, that this would be my evening, tonight?
Finally ready, I drove through the campground, seeing their pickup in front of a big travel trailer almost around the circle, with an empty campsite right next to them. I pulled into the space, hoping I wasn't stealing anyone's camp spot, and got out of my van. True to Naomi's word, Jason was outside working at his grill, now watching me with a huge smile on his face, always a boost to a girl's psyche.
He put down his turner or whatever it was he had in his hand, and almost ran over to me, giving me a big hug and starting to kiss me before pulling away, "Can I?" he asked.
I giggled, thinking the question was a little absurd after what we'd done earlier that afternoon -- and I was here, wasn't I? I answered by wrapping my arms around his neck and giving him another 'peck on the lips' that quickly turned into exactly what I'd intended, far more than any 'peck'.
"That answer your question?" I asked him, panting, my lips about an inch from his. "Your wife still okay...? He scooped me up and twirled me around, his tongue in my mouth.
"That answer your question?" he repeated my words back to me.
I was getting very optimistic that this was going to be a delightful evening, already feeling his hardness pressing against me. And then it dawned on me, we'd just fucked, less than three hours earlier... and he was already this hard again? I thought older men... never mind.
I guess he wasn't ALL that much older, forties, maybe? I was thirty-two, if you believe the statistics, probably close to my sexual peak. And in this case, I do believe, if anything, still on my way up.
"God you're sexy!" I heard him mumble, watching his sparkling eyes traveling up and down my body, seeing 'that' look on his face, the look any woman loves to see on a man who she's trying to seduce, obviously enjoying his view very much, as was I of him. He'd changed into shorts and a t-shirt, emphasizing his muscled chest and arms. Smelled nice, too. My most secret lady part was threatening a flood. Then, "Come, we'll ask her," he said, taking my hand and leading me to their trailer. On the way past, I noticed three steaks, not two, already on the grill. The man obviously was nothing, if not optimistic.
"This pretty lady has something she wanted to ask you," he told his wife before turning and tending back to his grill.
"You want to know..."
