It was a miracle that Tom was able to hold back his orgasm. If Hannah had touched him, or thrust a few more times, he couldn't have prevented a seminal eruption. Fortunately, things worked according to plan, or didn't work in this case. Determined to show her that she was more than a sex object, he willfully fought against pleasure. While she fucked him, he mentally inventoried his truck, balanced his bank account and calculated his modest investment dividends to the end of the year. There was money to be earned, if he intended to buy the Midway motel.
Now resting naked on his lap, Hannah looked up at him and stroked a bundle of her hair, wearing the familiar face of concern. "Do you want me to play with you some more? It feels so weird when you don't come."
He hugged her and said, "No thanks. We'd better get out of here while the rain's slowed." His dick began to stiffen again, as he watched her dress. Hastily, he pulled on his pants.
Tom descended the hayloft ladder first, intending to grab some firm ass when she climbed down. He'd made it halfway, when the barn door opened and Mr. Wentworth came in, followed by two men, leading three horses.
Quickly, Tom climbed back up and whispered, "Hannah, stay here. Don't come down until I tell you."
"What's wrong?"
"Maybe nothing, but we've got visitors -- men with horses. And one of the horses looks familiar." Without another word, he rushed down and walked toward the new arrivals. They stopped when he approached. The two strangers gave him an angry glare, like he'd killed their best friend. Tom smiled, and said, "All finished with the cabins, Mr. Wentworth." He pointed. "Did you want the cart put in the storeroom over there?"
"Yeah, that's where it goes. What were ya doin' back there?"
"Just looking the place over. This is a cool old barn. How old is it?"
"Damned if I know." The old man grabbed Tom's arm and pulled him back the way he came, saying over his shoulder to the horsemen, "Put the nags in the stalls that got sawdust. The kid's gonna throw down some hay for ya."
When they were out of earshot, the old man whispered, "I got a bad feeling about these swabs. They got pissy attitudes. Go get 'em some hay, but don't talk to 'em. They ain't said ten words since they got here. I don't wana give 'em any reason to wreck the place. I've seen some assholes slink across the boarder before, and these guys fit the mold."
Wentworth pointed up. "There's a trapdoor right in the middle of the floor. Toss down a fresh bale."
"Okay, Boss." Tom smiled.
The old veteran shook his head and cackled. "You oughta take your girl up there sometime. Nothin' more fun than a real roll in the hay."
"Thanks for the tip. I'll remember that," he said, climbing back up.
"Maybe I should rent the hayloft by the hour, like them city whorehouses."
"Maybe."
Hannah waited impatiently at the top. "Was it them?"
"I think so."
"Oh my God," she hissed.
"Chill, Hannah. Just stay out of sight. It'll be okay." He grabbed a bale of hay and carried it to the trap door. "Stand back." The hinges squeaked as it swung open. "Look out below!" Tom kicked down the hay and dropped the door. "I'll come back for you when it's safe."
Hannah groaned and stroked her hair faster.
"It's okay. Just stay put."
Tom hurried back down, pulled the twine off the bale and threw slabs of hay into the stall feed racks. As he worked, he ignored Wentworth's advice. "Where you guys from? Been up in the mountains? Beautiful up there, isn't it."
They stood silent, with arms folded, and watched him work.
"I like horses, but I'm always afraid I'll get kicked. They can do some serious damage."
No reaction.
Wentworth broke in. "Why don't you fellas go get settled in your rooms. We'll take good care of the hay burners."
They looked at each other. One gave a head tilt signal to leave, and they did.
"What the hell were you doin'. I told you not to bug 'em."
"Sorry, Boss. Just trying to put the customers at ease."
"Bah… give 'em a descent room and leave 'em alone. That's all they want."
Tom finished up, and they walked back toward the motel. The horsemen were hauling familiar black duffel bags from the horse trailer to cabin number 3.
"You think they're drug smugglers?" asked Tom.
"What? What made you say that?"
"I don't know, just a hunch."
"Well, don't go stickin' your nose in where it don't belong, unless you wanna get it wiped…off your face." The old man laughed.
"So, how about a job?"
"Are you good with your hands? Maybe I should ask your girl, Pocahontas."
"You're a dirty old man. You know that?"
"It's all talk, Chief." He turned and headed toward home. "All I got left is bullshit."
"I want a job!"
"Ask me tomorrow."
Tom waited until the men had closed the cabin door, and then went back to collect Hannah.
She was so frightened that she didn't even react to his hands fondling her ass as she climbed down the ladder. "What'll we do now?"
"I don't know yet, but somehow, I'm getting the cops to check 'em out."
She clutched his arm, as they sneaked through the brush to the back of their cabin. "I should tell you something."
"Uh-oh. That sounds bad."
Seconds passed before Hannah continued. "I think Mr. Wentworth is related to Toby, the pilot of the airplane. His name was Tobias Wentworth, and he told me he knew the mountains and lakes in the area, because he grew up around here. I didn't even think of it, until now."
