We pulled into my home in Fort Smith about 11 pm. I live in a manufactured home on an acre I bought from a farmer right on Old Union Town Rd in Rena, north of Fort Smith. It's got a nice, long circular gravel driveway in front - I'm damned if I'm gonna be backin' up when I bring a semi to my house.
Now, in case you're thinkin' it's some old rattletrap mobile home, it's not. It's a Sun Building Systems, two story, 2200 square feet, 4 bedrooms and 2.5 baths. Its most prominent feature is a cathedral ceilinged great room/living room, with an open loft above it for the bedrooms and two baths. I'm proud of it, and I'm not bragging.
But I AM bragging when I tell you it has hardwood floors, nice carpeting and I had it decorated by Ann Coleman Interiors. I may be a poorly educated ex-military truck driver redneck Arkansas hick, but I will be damned if I don't do my best to have a nice home. A home for Sneezer the cat, and Bruiser and Polly the dogs, and me, when I'm in town.
"Whoah," Virginia said. "Nice place."
"Yeah, thanks," I said. "To tell the truth, I'm lookin' forward to a nice, long, hot bubble bath, followed by a good night's sleep in my very own bed. And I've got a guest bedroom all fitted out for you, and you're sure welcome to a bubble bath, too/"
"With you?" Virginia said, startled, her eyes wide.
"Heh, well, if you like, but I meant in the guest bathroom. I'll be in the master bedroom."
""I didn't mean, I mean, I think it would be fine, uhh, I haven't, I don't.....umm."
"Are you done, honey?" I chuckled. "You're my passenger. Just think of me as your low rent bus driver, and I don't think bus drivers go around propositioning their passengers, do they?" Virginia's face was bright red. Of course, I didn't tell her how much I'd have loved a bath with her...
"It's been a long, long day, sweetie. Let's get us some rest, okay?" Virginia looked relieved as we entered.
"Wow, this is really nice," she said, when we got inside and I turned on the lights. The front door opens directly into the great room, with its cathedral ceiling, so, yeah, it makes a pretty nice entrance. The spiral staircase to the second floor gets some comments too. It's just too bad I've never had much opportunity to have someone over. Relatives were out, hadn't talked to my family in some time. Neighbors were sort of out. With a one acre lot the smallest in the rural area, it's hard to get to know your neighbors, and because I was on the road so much, I didn't have that many friends in Arkansas. And....lovers. There hadn't been any of those.
Thinking about it, I was probably closer to the guys at Arcturus, based in Los Angeles.
"Would you like something to eat?" I asked Virginia. She smiled wearily.
"Naah, maybe just show me where my bedroom and the bathtub are?" she said.
I pointed at the kitchen. "Everything you'll need for eats are there, feel free to root around if you get up before me, okay?" She nodded.
She marveled at the staircase. "Don't you get dizzy?" she asked, jokingly.
"Only when I roller skate down," I replied with a smile. I let her go first. Virginia sure did a nice job of filling out her jeans, and I felt a stirring in my loins, no matter that I'd sort of tried to keep things non sexual. The stories we kept telling each other made that goal kind of iffy.
She held onto the railing as I led her to her bathroom and bedroom, as the hallway is open to below on the one side. "Wow, I feel kind of a vertigo," she said.
"Sorry to say, I hardly notice it anymore, but that railing will keep you from falling, don't worry." I said.
"It's a really nice view," she admitted, referring to the view of the living room from above.
She was thrilled at her bedroom, down the other end of the hall from mine. The decorating had extended to the three bedrooms, the fourth bedroom I'd turned into an office, and it clearly hadn't had a woman's touch, unless you count mine. It was pretty business-like. It was next to my bedroom.
I left her there, after telling her she could take that hot bubble bath if she wanted, and that I'd be in my office catching up on paperwork for an hour or so. I had settled into my desk, reconciling my fuel logs for the last few months. After about ten minutes, it occurred to me that there was no bubble bath in the guest bathroom. So I went to my bathroom, where I kept a spare. There is an herbary in Fort Smith that makes a luscious cucumber melon mix, and I wanted to share it with her, I thought she'd like it.
As I neared her room, I heard subtle noises. I thought, maybe Virginia was talking on her cell phone, but I remembered she didn't have a cell, or much of anything else. Her boyfriend, Mike the Pathetic Ass Hole, had taken all her stuff when he left her in the truck stop. So I eased over by the door, I didn't want to disturb her. It was then that I made a terrible, yet wonderful, discovery.
Remember, I had very few visitors. As a matter of fact, Virginia would be the first in my eight years there. It was then that I discovered the decorator had arranged the Chatham antique dresser, with its mirror above, in such a way that I could see most of the bed reflected in the mirror, but apparently Virginia couldn't see me.
Well, it was a terrible discovery, because I had come up on Virginia masturbating.
And it was wonderful, because I had come up on Virginia masturbating.
God help me, I was transfixed. All I could do was watch. I know it was wrong. But I did it anyway.
Virginia had her jeans off, as they lay puddled on the floor by her bed, on top of her sneakers. She was wearing just her panties and one of my short sleeved tee shirts. She had her legs pulled up to her chest, and she was gently caressing the taut skin of her calves, ankles, feet and up to her shins, first with her fingernails, as though gently scratching an itch, then with her fingertips. I noticed that her nails left little white streaks in her tan skin, like little comet trails, that faded back to tan after a few seconds.
Her bottom, two marvelously perfect and full globes of female flesh, filled out and stretched the thin, pink fabric in that position, until I imagined the cloth of the panties WAS her ass, her beautiful ass naked for me, smooth and beckoning, begging the touch of fingers, and lips to caress that warm, fragrant skin.
I saw as she momentarily pulled her legs closer, her cotton panties pressing against her pussy lips, the space between them dark and darkening the pink cotton every time the fabric touched her. She hummed soundlessly, a melody I couldn't place. Then I recognized it as one of the songs from the Ronstadt CD I'd played for her our first day together. Her voice was soft and sweet. I felt a heat in my own pussy.
Then she spread her legs, still bent, so that her feet were together, nearly sole to sole. The leg holes of her panties didn't mold exactly to her legs in that position, as the muscles attaching her thighs to her hips flexed, causing gaps in the fabric, giving me a small peek inside her sweet mons. I couldn't see her pussy or anything like that, but only more of her bare skin ever closer to that wondrous masterpiece, dark shadows cast at about where her bush would be, and lower, where her slit would meet the flat skin between it and her ass. The fabric teased me with those suspected glimpses of pussy.
She caressed her inner thighs, paler than her calves and lower legs, again as before, fingernails first tracing a sweet pain across her tender flesh, quivering as they passed, then the more tender caress of fingertips over smooth feminine flesh, sighing as they went on their way.
Her fingers playing on her sweet inner thighs, strayed closer to her panties, and the magnificent treasure they hid. Index fingers straying under the elastic, she lightly bit her lower lip, her head to one side, as the barest touch of finger tip to plump, swollen lip on each side sent stray, faint tendrils of excitement through her, as she teased herself.