Rough Part 1 - A Place in the Desert
He leaned against the door frame, naked and erect. She glanced over from tending the pan of sizzling bacon. Her hair was messy from sleep. The tattered housecoat gapped open at the front, allowing his gaze to fall on her tanned chest with its perfect breasts. Or so he said, making her tingle.
They were feeling rough and this was a rough place. Which came first was a puzzle. Her grandfather started it as a one room mining shack in the Depression. There was no work, so he came out here with a wife and a young child and lived off the land. Tonopah, a rough place itself, was fifty miles away. There was a tiny spring nearby which ran all year and was safe to drink, which couldn't be said of a lot of seeps in this broken terrain.
When the war started, there were plenty of jobs in Hawthorne, at the Army Ammunition Depot. And money to buy a house in town where the youngster could go to school, and Hester shopped for food instead of growing it herself.
Seventy-five years later, Arnold and Angela were shacked up together in the family place that now had two rooms and an indoor toilet. And a buried water tank outside, still fed by Grandfather's spring, and sheltered by the cottonwoods he and Hester planted all those years ago. In the far distance to the south, trucks could be seen but not heard on the modern highway that would take you to Tonopah or Hawthorne in an hour or so.
She snaked the bacon out of its grease and laid it carefully on a paper towel to drain. Staring him directly in his dark eyes, she asked, "Will you have fried or scrambled this morning?" knowing that what he wanted most was her. His absences were irregular, and of irregular duration. She didn't know who he worked for, and guessed that was for the best. She didn't even know exactly what he did, and was less sure she shouldn't know that. From time to time, she asked herself if a man's woman didn't deserve to know what her lover did for work.
His arm around her shoulder was gentle, even though she could feel the lust filling his body, and the large cock touching the cotton cloth covering her flank. "If you don't mind, sunnyside over would be good."
She poured a second cup of coffee and handed it to him with a kiss. This had happened before. His returning after midnight with no warning and stretching a warm naked body along her backside.
Waking with the sun and enjoying his presence, she got to decide whether to stay in the bed until he awoke, or to slip out and begin breakfast. If she stayed, there was sex before breakfast. If she left, there was no telling where and when he would take her, just the certainty of it happening soon.
She broke eggs into the frying pan, watching them cook in the left behind grease and wondering why she was in a literary frame of mind this morning. They called this the Outback House and were careful to protect its location from friends. The only paint in the entire place was on the kitchen table, and they preferred it that way. Rough on rough, she teased him, lying in the narrow bed after sex.
He liked the eggs and the strong coffee. Both disappeared rapidly. He reached a hand for hers. "I need a hike. Been cooped up in a hotel room for a week. Where would you like to go?"
They were seated side by side and all she could think about was sex. He didn't mind the cool desert morning and made no move to dress. She reached between his legs, "If I need to be ready for this, what about the cave?"
"Yes, you need to be ready for some loving. I miss you on these trips. I'll carry the pack with some protection for your backside."
They took the Jeep for the first five miles along a rocky track that no one called a road, or even a trail. Grandfather used it with a mule, and always came back with enough gold and silver ore to keep his family in supplies. Even after the war, when a surplus Jeep was easy to get, he was protective of the route, creating fake dead ends with obvious turnarounds. The cave they were going to was also a fake adit, where he left old mining tools lying around, suggesting a played out dig. His real diggings were farther up the mountain and very carefully disguised. So disguised that even his son, who had helped from time to time, could get lost finding them.
As they bounced along, hair flying, she felt good. Arnie was back, her latest free lance article had sold well, and she was sure several days of hot loving were ahead. Once, when her therapist mother had been in another of her depressions, Angie suggested a visit. Against Arnold's advice, of course. Thinking about it, she laughed out loud. He heard her above the wind noise and glanced over, eyebrows raised.
"I was thinking about Maggie's visit, for some reason."
He chuckled happily, "Best sex I ever had. Except for you, of course." He reached for a hand to kiss and nibble. She thought to herself, "I'd unzip him right here but we'd likely run into a boulder or two."
Angela had warned Margaret that their secret retreat was a rough place, but the reality was hard for a city woman to absorb. Dust and desert in all directions. A raw wood exterior burned dark by many hot summers. A shower head on the back porch, a commode inside with no curtain or anything around it. A large Arnold Schultz that her only child had hooked up with, whose idea of dressing was a pair of torn shorts for dinner and whose all over tan was disconcerting on the frequent occasions she viewed it. Her educated mind rehearsed all the back to the land stories she had read, but came up short. This shack was not an agricultural commune. No, it was a refuge for two busy people who enjoyed the silence and desolation. Who had a small library of books about the early European settlers passing by, and the nomadic Indians they encountered, living in and around the mountains to the west. Two who returned to the modern world juiced up and ready to play its games.
Arnie parked the vehicle in a shallow draw they favored and spent a minute loading the pack and tightening his boot laces. Angie pressed herself to his side, "Hey."
He kissed her forehead, "Hey yourself. What brought that Maggie business to mind?"
He always made Angie lead, pretending he needed the view of her fine behind. The other reason was that Arnie was in a tough line of business and even out here needed to be alert.
"Your studly self has got me going and wanting you. That reminded me how Margaret went back to Philadelphia longing for more of your cock."
"It fixed her depression, didn't it?" He reached forward for a quick pinch.
"The problem, Arnie, is that the first chance she gets, there will be another terrible depression that needs a treatment in the desert." She stopped to catch her breath and collect a hug.
He laughed yet again and teased, "You didn't know about my medical qualifications when we hooked up?"
The fact was, he had advanced EMT training, and had used it more than once.
She had a liplock on him, and he wondered if this spot would do for what he needed. The small voice inside cautioned patience. "You'll be at the cave in twenty minutes."
He asked, "What was it that broke her, my walking around with a stiffy, or you crying out in the night?"
She headed upslope, taking sure steps from their years out in the country. They were in a narrowing couloir, with lots of loose rock.
"When you and I get our rut going, lover, the whole shack reeks of sex. That first evening, after the big dose of gin, her eyes were dilated and she couldn't stop sniffing. She was outside when you took me, but I deliberately didn't shower before dinner and made sure she caught me mopping your mess from my bottom."
"That was certainly fun the next morning. When I decided to make a play for her right against the kitchen table, I didn't know whether I was going to get a kiss or a slap."
The couloir opened up onto a small flat area that partly shielded the entrance to the cave. Puffing and taking in the hundred mile views of Boundary Peak and the spine of the Sierra, they leaned on each other.
"I knew she was yours, but watching was sure fun. You made your alpha male noises and she folded. Didn't raise a finger to keep her clothes on. Jumped a mile when your fingers landed in her pussy and all she could do was squeak! I had the worst time keeping from laughing out loud."
Her hiking dress was on the ground and there was nothing else to remove. His big hands wrapped her front and he said, "Do you want a quickie or a snack?"
She was getting ready when they both saw a windshield flash down near the cabin. He quickly got out the binoculars he always carried. "Are we expecting anyone?"
"No. In fact, even family doesn't know about this visit."
He handed the glasses to her. "Two males, looks like."
"Don't recognize either. Definitely not family. I closed and covered the safe before we left."
There was a time when prospectors took care of a cabin if they sheltered in it. Not anymore. The expanded shack had long since gained an armored hole in the ground that was easily covered with dust that made it hard to distinguish.
"No one I know either. What about a cushion against that rock and a snack? Guess I'll have to wait for the other."
Their spot was shady and comfortable. There was a view of the two strangers walking around the house and leaning on a fence post under the cottonwoods. Angie found homemade trail mix and one lonely beer in the pack while Arnie kept the binocs on the men.
"Today is Saturday, so not likely BLM or something like that. We assume trouble until proven otherwise?"
"Yes, but we better stay put. If we go down now they might notice dust floating up here."
He pushed her across his lap to massage the neck and shoulder muscles. "Good thinking. Got any ideas about mischief makers?"
She rolled over and flexed her naked hips at him. "I haven't dumped any lovers recently. What about you?" She tried her innocent girl look on him and got a fierce stare with a growl. Years ago, they might have shared themselves with someone else, but not anymore. She said it was stupid to be so pair bonded, but loved him for it.
"The people I work for tend to cover those bases, but no one is perfect. Can't think of a good revenge candidate lately, and coming after me out here won't put any treasure in their hands."
"What about good guys from our govt looking for help?"
He stood them up, dropped the dress over her head, and grabbed the pack. "Let's work our way to the side here and down the slope where we are out of their sight."
She guessed he was pretty limp, thinking about revenge seekers and government agents. If he was worrying about using the weapons they had in the Jeep, she should be too. It took a year of his patient instruction, but she knew her way around a variety of guns now, and usually hit the bullseye from 50 yards with his rifle. The front door of the shack had armor on the inside, plus a couple of small doors that made good gun ports if needed. She didn't like guns but agreed with him that when you needed one was not the time to think about learning to use it.
At the base of the slope, they inched carefully to the top of a small rise and put the glasses on their house. The foreign vehicle was gone. So was their enthusiasm for the hike and outdoor sex.
"Damn!" he said, heading for the Jeep. About halfway back, he gave her his ancient black cowboy hat, "Tuck your hair under that and change places. When we get to a hundred yards, I'm going to drop off the side and I want you to circle to the east staying out of easy range. Let me walk it in."
He got pistols for both of them out of his traveling case, and dropped behind the front seats.
