Part 1, First Night.
My friend Olga from the Renaissance Faire owned a house in the mountains and had offered her guest bedroom to my wife and me. Well, actually it was a spare bedroom in her house that she used for storage and crafts, but it had a fold-out couch. It was for whenever we wanted a weekend in the mountains; the only pay she wanted was for me to set up her new computer. I knew that my wife Ruth was a bit suspicious of my friend, she probably thought that Olga had the hots for me or that I was after Olga. Actually we were just friends; the most intimate thing we had ever done was a quick kiss in greeting, just a peck on the cheek or lips; no tongue. Well, maybe also a slap on the ass in celebration. But that was pretty typical of the Ren Fair community, in fact most casual friends usually went a bit farther than that. But this explains why I was so surprised when my wife told me about Olga's invitation. She had spoken to Olga on the phone from her office and set up the whole weekend before I even heard about it. I learned they had spent a lot of time talking that day and apparently had come to some kind of understanding or at least a truce. We left our place right after work and breezed along the freeway as fast as we could in the afternoon traffic. Finally reaching the correct off-ramp, we headed up the narrow mountain highway to Olga's place, stopping at a winery on the way. After all, this is California and staying over without bringing wine would be unthinkable.
I looked over at my wife, leaning back in the passenger seat and enjoying the ride. Ruth had her head tilted over so the dry breeze from the open window would play with her short, golden brown hair. She had a little half smile on her round face, partly for the breeze and partly in anticipation of the weekend. If her eyes had been open, I could have seen the expression in their hazel depths. She's short in stature, about 5-foot-3, with a plump, curvy figure that some might call overweight. I think she's just perfect at four inches shorter than me with enough padding to be a joy to hold. Besides, I like her round bottom.
. Me, I'm just an average guy, about 5-foot-7, average build, average everything, brown hair and beard. My wife and I are the same age, mid-forties, while Olga is about two or three years younger than us.
I turned off the highway onto a two-lane road that headed farther into the rugged mountains of Southern California. Following the directions from Olga's e-mail, we located the rather indistinct dirt road that circled around a rise and led to her gravel driveway. Olga's place was in a narrow valley between two ridges, perched on the top of a low hill and surrounded by taller peaks. This was high desert, all rugged landscape and sagebrush. It was very near sunset when we arrived, the sky was still bright, but the sun had already dipped below one of the surrounding peaks.
Olga was standing in the dirt driveway when we arrived, dressed casually in a tee shirt and jeans, her cornsilk-colored hair waving free down to her shoulders. Olga has a longish face and Nordic features, she looks just like her name, even though that's not her real name, it's just what she uses at faire. Her real name was something rather ordinary that I could never quite remember. She greeted us with hugs and showed us to her spare bedroom to stow our bags. She's a couple of inches taller than I am, so she had to bend down to hug Ruth. I glanced down as Olga led the way, long hours at her desk for her hospital job had caused her bottom to spread just a bit, but otherwise her figure was slim and lanky. I thought it was attractive, I like a full, rounded bottom on a woman. Usually I didn't get the chance to check out Olga's bottom while she was wearing the concealing full skirts of her Ren Faire costume. At the door to the spare room, I averted my gaze just in time to avoid being caught by my wife turning around to tell me where she wanted her bag set down.
Back in the front area of the house, the two ladies took the mixed case of wine into the kitchen while I fussed with the new computer. Unpacking the components from their cardboard boxes and setting it up, loading her specialized medical software and transferring her documents from one machine to the other took a while. So did routing the cables and I grumbled under my breath every time I had to snake a cable through an awkward spot on her desk. Finally I got her ISP loaded and the printer, scanner and camera were all working perfectly. I checked my own e-mail, just to make sure things worked. By this time I could smell good things happening in the kitchen and headed there to investigate.
