Author's note: This is a rewritten and restructured version of "Music and Revival at Nude Creek." The story is about the quest of a couple to find themselves and reinvent their relationship, staged in the 1970s.
Dear Readers! Thank you for making it this far.
In this last chapter, April pushes Ken's boundaries in different ways. She discovers the emotional and maybe spiritual elements in sexuality. Ken makes a confession.
My turn for a surprise
Our next stop was Milwaukee. Ken was excited to see the Harley-Davidson motorcycle factory, and there was some kind of anniversary celebration to boot. We had days of traveling alone before then. It was a little like we were dating. Ken and I seemed to take extra care of each other, enjoying each other's company. I was thrilled to see him excited; he talked about the upcoming motorcycle factory tour endlessly, and his energy was infectious.
Just outside of town, we stopped at a small motel and started to unpack. I had days worth of laundry to deal with. Ken said he'd figure out some dinner.
I returned to the room just as a motorcycle pulled up, and the rider with his passenger stiffly got off. The man was short, around 5'4 feet? Built like a bodybuilder, his face tanned and wind-burned--a week's beard growth on his face. The woman was much taller, maybe almost 6 feet. She removed her helmet, and two long auburn braids fell free. She looked over at me, in a T-shirt and cut-off jeans, then she looked me over. I felt a small thrill at being assessed like that, to be honest, but I turned away and met Ken in our room. We spent the night together, relaxing and watching TV.
The next day we arrived at the HD motorcycle factory; there were already bikes from all over the country there, lined up in the parking area, bikers in leather and babes in tight pants milling about. Ken was excited, but he wanted to take the tour early, so we went up to the factory and got in line.
On the tour, we actually ran into our Motel neighbors from the night before. Then they introduced themselves as Bob and Monique, who had just arrived from northern California. They cleaned up fairly nicely, it turned out. Bob was wearing leather chaps over jeans, boots, a black T-shirt, and a leather vest under his jacket. His leathers fit so tight it looked as if he was poured into them. They accented his musculature and squeaked when he moved.
Monique was dressed similarly, except she wore black spiked heels and a tube top under her jacket. She didn't walk as much as slink; it was fascinating to watch her. They were a good-looking couple, and Ken was excited to take the tour with a real biker couple. He and Bob talked endlessly, Monique and I in tow. Later, Monique helped me pick out a sexy beaded leather vest, g-string, and even a collar and restraints from some of the local vendors. I giggled at that last purchase, but she assured me it was money well spent. After a day at the factory, they invited us back to dinner, and Bob had brought a few bottles of California wine; we readily agreed.
After dinner, we were relaxing outside in front of our room, Bob and Ken still taking bikes and touring, traveling, and camping. Monique leaned over to me and whispered, "Bob and I like to swap--are you and Ken open-minded?"
The entire day, I was aware of Monique; she towered over me, her breasts at my eye level. She was both feminine and dominant at the same time; it really had an effect on me. I'd been marinating and aroused by her all day. Her face was close to mine, her dark red lips parted, her warm breath on my face. I leaned in and kissed her softly.
She lingered on my lips for a moment, then said, "Let's see if we can get the boys to shut up for a while."
Monique rose up and then took Ken's hand. He shot me a nervous glance, but let her lead him into the room. Bob looked at me and smiled, then took my hand and, once inside, shut the door.
The room was small but clean, with a queen bed, a table with two chairs, and a door leading to a shower and sink. Cinder block walls, a threadbare carpet. Very plain. The men sat in the chairs, and Monique led me over to the bed.
She kissed me again, this time taking my head into her hands. I had to stand on tiptoes; it felt as if I was submitting. I loved it. Slowly, breaking the kiss only when we had to, we undressed each other, oblivious to the world. Nude, we lay on the bed.
Monique leaned in and kissed me slowly and passionately. I felt her hands sliding through my hair as she worked my mouth; her tongue slid along my lips, and I responded in kind.
When she moved back slightly, she arched her back and let me move my hands to her shoulders. We kissed again and again, soft, lingering kisses that left me breathless. She closed her eyes and let out a sigh as I kept steady but light contact with her face. I traced along her lips, down her chin, and then gently felt down between her breasts.
Her breathing was slow and measured. We kissed again as I stroked her erect nipples and I felt her hands on my own breasts. She rose slightly, leaned over, and pulled me towards her. I kissed her tanned skin, my tongue lightly tracing her neck and her shoulders. Her breathing became deeper and more intense. I felt her breasts and began a slow, methodical massage of them both, feeling her nipples harden under my familiar touch. Our mutual breast and nipple massage went on, building up our mutual arousal, our exploring fingertips alternating with soft teasing kisses that became longer with every minute. I lowered my hand to her pussy, as she spread her legs invitingly. Softly, I touched her vagina, ever so lightly running my fingers from the bottom up to her swollen clit. I pulled my fingers away for a moment.
