THE BEGINNING
A tint of orange was already in the sky as Mark and Helen drove along the lake. Being the middle of Fall, the days were already noticeably shorter. The roads were mostly devoid of traffic, which was certainly welcome to the young couple.
Their honeymoon was an unusual one. Instead of traveling to a gorgeous beach in a tropical climate, they had instead opted for a very remote, very lonely stay in the near-wilderness of northern Michigan. They still planned to hit the beaches in Cancun or Key West, but they decided that trip would be best during the coming cold winter. For now, their trip consisted of a week in a private cabin nestled deep in the woods for a week, followed by three days of driving along the shore of Lake Superior before catching a plane and heading home.
Helen snuggled close to her new husband, a permanent smile graced her lips as she took in the scenery. The stay in the cabin had been wonderful, romantic, and full of satisfying sex, but the scenery had actually grown to familiarity and there was something wonderful about wondering what they would encounter around each turn and in each town. The first day of the trip was behind them, and now the second was drawing to a close as the Fall sun was starting to approach the western horizon.
With no schedule to meet, except their plane ride home, Mark and Helen took their stops at leisure. They did have bookings in three separate hotels along the journey, but the check-in times were extremely flexible. So when they approached a series of old-fashion homes and found themselves on a Main Street with the quaintest shops, they eagerly parked their SUV and got out to explore.
The number of people was low, but there was still some life moving up and down the street. Being after Labor Day, the prime tourist season was over. But the weather was unusually warm, summer weather really, and the people basked in the late-season sun in shorts and t-shirts.
Evidently most of the people were locals, Helen reasoned as she noticed the people stop their motions and start in her and Marks direction. Apparently they were surprised to see them. Regardless, a number of them approached Mark and Helen offering "hellos" and "how-do-you-dos."
"Where are you from?" they asked. Mark and Helen answered.
"Why are you here so late in the year?" they explained a little about their honeymoon.
Congratulations flowed readily, and Helen half-expected one of the older women to invite them for dinner. Instead, a stranger question arose from a man who had mostly remained silent. He was a younger man, at least compared to the others. He was also dressed much more formally in a suit and tie. Atop his head was a black derby hat.
"Have you been to our gift shop?" he inquired.
Mark and Helen both answered no. The other townsfolk grew quiet after the question and looked at the man in the derby.
"You really should go, they have some lovely things."
"Yes, lovely things" a few of the others joined in. "Go to the gift shop, you're sure to find something very nice."
"They would love to have you." The man in the derby added, seemingly addressing Helen directly.
"Ok." Mark smiled. "We will check it out. Where is it?" The crowd pointed in unison over Mark's shoulder. About forty yards away was a very nice old-looking house. It appeared to be near the edge of a cliff of sorts, as the reflecting light of Lake Superior flashed in their eyes from behind the shop.
"Shall we?" Mark offered his arm to Helen. She took it with a grin and waved goodbye to the strangers. She chuckled together at the blatant attempt for tourist dollars. Without speaking, they assumed the same thing in that all they would find would be cheap trinkets and postcards.
They entered the gift hop, giddy with the delight of exploration and the romance of the honeymoon. Sure, they would buy something as a remembrance of the trip and the friendly locals. The house itself was completely charming, right down to the white picket fence surrounding the property. The shop seemed mostly empty, but they did notice a few people browsing the items. In addition, they noticed an older woman, probably the owner, behind a register. She was smiling at them, as if she could recognize and share in their joy from one glimpse. She didn't speak at first, not until Mark and Helen took a few more steps into the store and broke their eyes from each other long enough to survey the multitude of collectibles surrounding them.
"Hello." the said with a particularly broad smile. Her eyes seemed lit up, and her face full of excitement. Mark reasoned they must have looked like sure-fire customers for the woman to be so pleased with their arrival.
Mark and Helen returned the greeting and then made their way about the store. They didn't look with any particular interest. They just noted the wind chimes, the cuckoo-clocks, the coasters and the many other items to themselves. Mark secretly hoped he could find some little memento, some symbolic purchase, that his new wife would cherish the rest of their lives. But he didn't want her to see him buy it. He released her hand nonchalantly, and she seemed to interested in some blankets she was eyeing down a flight of stairs in the other section of the shop. She moved to the short flight of steps and Mark knew he had a golden opportunity. He rationalized he should just go to the old woman and ask if they had anything particularly wonderful buried in all their junk. He stepped over to her. He was about to speak but she hadn't turned to face him. She was still watching Helen. Intently. Mark waited a moment, and still the woman did not break her gaze. Perhaps she was concerned with shoplifters, Mark reasoned. He decided to search for the memento on his own. He turned his back to the woman, and started to walk away.
"You have a very lovely wife."
Mark turned to her, figuring she would now be able to help him. She was still staring at Helen, almost as if she was analyzing her.
"Thank you." Mark returned to his search.
Helen, meanwhile, had been examining the soft blankets that lined several shelves. She didn't rally plan to buy one, unless she found just the right combination of colors and softness.
"May I help you find anything?"
Helen looked over her shoulder to the old man who had just walked up to her.
"No, thanks, I'm just browsing."
"I see. Well, please feel free to ask for any assistance."
"Thank you, I will." Helen smiled the man, but he didn't notice it. His eyes were moving up and down Helen's body. This wasn't unusual for her, as men often had a tendency to familiarize themselves with her curves, proportions, and shape before paying her any real attention. But the fact this old shopkeeper was checking her out made her somewhat amused and uncomfortable at the same time.
She returned to examining the selection of blankets. She laughed inwardly of the old man and his eye for the young ladies.
"You know, we do have another room of merchandise if you fail to find anything here that interests you."
"Really? I thought this and the upper level were the whole store."
"Most of the time they are, my dear. Most of the time they are. Please, follow me..."
Helen was a little confused by his statement but followed as asked. The man led her to a door that had an "Employees Only" sign above it. Had the man been younger, and had her new husband not been with her, Helen would have never followed him. But as it was, she felt little threat from the shopkeeper, even as he had to unlock the door to gain entrance. She did, however, stay back until he turned the light in the room on and she saw that sure enough, there were shelves and displays and merchandise in the room. She followed him in.
The door shut behind them and the old man put his hand on Helen's shoulder. But it was a nice, friendly old man way not a seducing, or possibly worse, sexual way.
"Please feel free to take your time. I'm sure you can find something in here that you will like."
Helen stepped away as the man stayed at the door. She wondered why they kept part of the store locked off from their customers. But the answer became evident as she really looked the items for sale. The first to catch her eye were some little sculptures. They appeared well-crafted and professional, but each figured a couple in differing sexual positions. From standard missionary to sideways to well depicted from-behind action.
Helen wanted to laugh a bit, and wondered if the old man had sculpted them himself. One thing she was certain of: he got more than a little pleasure by bringing attractive young women into the room and displaying his "merchandise."
She looked around the rest of the room. She started walking as she gazed at the items for sale. The sculptures went from those of couples to those of threesomes and foursomes. All depicted multiple men, but only one woman.
"I'm sorry, I don't think anything here interests me."
"Are you sure? What about over here?"
He lead Helen to the next aisle. The shelves here were lined with vibrators and dildos of varying length.
"These models are especially unique."
Did she dare ask? "Why is that?"
"They ejaculate." He said calmly. "Multiple times. To simulate the experience of many men." His face had taken an eerie look to it. It frightened Helen. She hadn't thought rape, not from an old man, but his look was still plenty disquieting.
"I'd better be going." She said and headed for the main area of the store. The old man followed close behind.
Mark was close to the door and smiled as he saw his wife.
Helen didn't stop her movement. "Ready to go?" She asked.
Mark stood as she brushed by him. He was about to insist that she stop and explain her hasty exit when the old man's hand came to rest on his shoulder.
"You have a very lovely wife."
Mark looked at the man and quickly deduced he had somehow made his wife uncomfortable. He quickly left to join her.
Helen was laughing about the situation before long. She explained the sexual figures and the dildos to her husband. He laughed as well, figuring the old man still had the urge to get off somehow.
"You are really very lovely..." Mark teased as they sped down the road.
"Oh really? Why thank you."
Mark look his wife up and down. She was lovely. Gorgeous. He had thought so the moment he lied eyes on her. Had fell in love with her shortly after that.
Helen was a striking brunette. Her long black hair swept don onto perfect shoulders, which curved their way into perfectly sized, firm, round breasts. She was a little taller than the average woman, which gave her long supple legs that rivaled those of any woman he had ever seen. The starting and titillation of the old man was nothing new. Men loved to look at his wife. Men loved to indulge in certain thoughts about his wife...
"I bet he was picturing you naked." Mark teased.
"Ewww.." Helen smiled back at him.
Mark paused, then took a moments glance at his wife. "I'm picturing you naked." He said.
