© Copyright 2003 - Hagster - Used by permission
Storycodes: Sbf; con; X
Dinner was later than usual and no one had much to say. Mom and Dad were in deep anticipation of their nearing vacation, while I was anxious to get on with my upcoming session. After the dishes were washed and put away, we all agreed to call it a day and went to bed early. Being as I did not do any work today, I didn’t build up any kind of a sweat and decided to forego an evening shower. Morning showers, on the other hand, were a must.
I closed the door of my upstairs bedroom and turned on the radio. I have a penchant for late night talk and call-in radio shows and had the presets programmed into the tuner. All I have to do is punch the appropriate button on the remote.
Bending over, I reached down and pulled off my tennis shoes. I generally leave them loosely laced so I can slip them on in a hurry. Or is it because I’m sometimes lazy? That’s a fine line I’m not ready to get into. No socks today. The hardwood floor was cool against my bare feet so I stepped onto the circular braided rug I liked so much. I reached down, undid the buttons on my cut-offs, and let them fall around my ankles. Lifting my left foot from the heap, I flipped the shorts into the dirty clothes corner with my right and they landed with a muffled thud. Next I grabbed hold of the bottom of my T-shirt with both hands and pulled it over my head, shaking my hair side to side to untangle what the neck of the shirt had ruffled. It too was tossed into the corner. I’ll start some laundry the morning of the family’s departure.
There I stood in my room with nothing on but my white cotton panties and gray sports bra, which although mashing my tits against my chest, also enabled me to wear light-colored T-shirts without my nipples ripping through the fabric when I sweat. My parents mostly tolerate my attire, but draw the line at the exaggerated exhibition of “normally” covered parts of the body. Whatever. I slipped my fingers underneath the bottom of my bra and tugged it up over my head and tousled my auburn mane once more. I shook my head side to side again and threw the bra into the corner. I massaged my breasts to re-familiarize myself with their flesh. I gently rubbed my left nipple, then the right with my index finger. They quickly reacted to the attention and sprang to life. I whispered an apology of sorts to them for the neglect they have suffered of late. (Damn that Allen!) I leaned over to the end of the bed and grabbed my blue silk cami top and slid it over my head. I ran a finger up through the straps to smooth out the fabric, then removed my panties. They too went into the clothes pile in the corner.
The cool, night air wafting in from the open window caressed my moistened lips, both pairs of them. My tongue wet my lips with a layer of saliva and I pursed them together to remove the excess. I couldn’t help but run an eager finger gently between my lower lips and slowed the exploration when it reached that wonderfully sensitive nub. I shuddered and that spot along my spine just below my shoulder blades caused my body to convulse. If there was an area on my body that was any more responsive to either touch or arousal than that particular area on my back, I’m not aware of it. I’ve made it a point not to tell many people of this erogenous zone as it could easily be exploited against my better judgment, and used to force me into an otherwise avoidable sexual encounter. I ceased the stimulation and donned the matching tap pants. Sexual release would wait until later, now only three days away.
I flipped off the light switch and threw back the covers on the bed. The cool sheets felt so good against my bare skin and I slid my feet into the end of the bed and moved them around enjoying the comfort of the covers. The silk panties and top gently rubbed over my skin as I nestled into a comfortable position, pulling the covers up tightly to my neck, preventing the cool breeze from invading the warm cocoon which I had made for myself. I tried listening to the banter on the radio talk show, but soon slipped off to sleep. All night long, visions of sex, and bondage, among other things danced about in my mind. Was I prepared for what I was about to do to myself? Only time would tell.
The Waiting Game
It was a long and restless night. Luckily the lack of sleep was offset by the quality of what sleep I did manage to get. The cool night air forced me to make a Sammy Joe-stuffed bed blanket burrito. I was sooo warm and cozy under the covers and knew the hardwood floor would be pretty damned cold on my bare feet. This is one reason why I have such a hard time getting out of bed in the morning. As if waking up wasn’t punishment enough. Why must I persist in torturing myself by sleeping in the cold? Oh, well, it’s great rest and besides, that’s what hot morning showers are for. I threw off the covers and leapt toward my slippers in nearly one motion, then quickly donned my robe and opened my bedroom door. We had a full bathroom upstairs and it was right next to my room, so I didn’t have far to go.
I closed and locked the bathroom door behind me. Friday morning. Only two more days until Dad and Mom and my brother Joe and his wife leave for a week leaving me all alone. Joy! They had planned to leave Sunday morning in the hopes traffic would be much lighter on their trek westward. Mom had prepared a list of things she needed from the market and I had a few things of my own I needed if I were to survive the week. I removed my robe and slippers, then took my razors and shaving gel from the cabinet. Might as well shave my legs and underarms, and trim my pubes while I’ve got the chance. I decided to run a hot bath (instead of the usual shower) and settled into the tub after taking off my top and panties. My God, the bath felt good. I could feel the stress and fatigue from last night’s restless slumber draining from my now-limp body. The bar of soap glided effortlessly over my skin. I worked up a lather and rigorously scrubbed myself from head to toe with hands and washcloth.
After rinsing the soap from my skin, I picked up the electric razor and trimmed my already small patch of pubic hair. Allen likes the way I keep it trimmed with a vee cut at the top and tapering down towards my bald lips. I like the short hair because it’s easier to keep clean and looks better when wearing bikini bottoms and thongs. I then ran the electric razor under my arms and managed to make them silky smooth. I prefer a safety razor and shaving gel on my legs. Sometimes the old fashioned ways are best. About ten minutes later, I rinsed the remaining lather from my legs and rubbed some bath moisturizer on them, my underarms, and my pubic area, then squirmed around and got on my hands and knees to wash my long, wavy auburn hair. I wetted my hair by dipping it in the bath water and squeezed a bit of lavender scented shampoo into my left hand and began to lather my hair. Like most people, I merely lather and rinse, but don’t repeat. I guess any future lawsuit against the shampoo manufacturer will be thrown out because I so blatantly ignore the plainly printed instructions. Lavender scented conditioner followed suit and was thoroughly rinsed with the hose attachment. I wrung out my hair with my hands as best I could, rose from the soapy water, and grabbed one towel from the rack to wrap around my head and another to dry the rest of my body. I stepped onto the bath rug and gently rubbed myself dry, then grabbed some after bath moisturizer and rubbed it over the entirety of my still-moist body. I slipped on my robe and slippers, grabbed my sleepwear, opened the door and stepped back into my bedroom.
I dug out a fresh pair of white cotton panties and yellow sports bra and threw them on the bed along with my tap pants and cami top. Then I opened another drawer and picked a pair of dark blue denim cut-offs and a white tee shirt and tossed them onto the bed as well. I slipped of my robe and clad myself in the day’s attire, picked up a belt, ran it through the loops of my shorts and cinched it tightly around my waist. There was a bottle of foot powder on my dresser and I sprinkled a little into each shoe and placed my feet into them. The towel came from around my head and fell to the floor. I ran a pick through my tangled hair, grabbed the towel from the floor, and went back to the bathroom. After hanging up the towels, I reached for my toothbrush and paste, brushed my teeth, applied some deodorant and body spray, and strode down the steps and into the front room.
“Morning, Sam,” Mom managed to say while washing the breakfast dishes. “You want something to eat?”
“No, I’m fine,” I replied while feinting a yawn. “Have you got that list of things you need from the store? I thought I would go back into town today and kick around a bit. Won’t have much of a chance next week.”
Mom dried her hands on a dishtowel and grabbed a piece of paper. “Yeah, honey, here.” She also handed me the farm checkbook and a fifty-dollar bill. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you take your father’s truck to town instead of your own? We thought you could fill up the fuel tanks on your way back home.”
Dad recently bought one of those monster super-duty Ford F250 4x4 diesel Fords with a standard bed and four doors. They mounted the fiberglass shell last evening. I love my Dodge Dakota. It’s just the right size for me. But Dad’s truck is just way too big. He should have just bought a school bus, which is how big the truck seemed. “Sure, that’ll be fine. I probably won’t be back until 3 or 4:00 this afternoon. You won’t need to have it before then, will you?”
“No, we’ll be busy getting everything in order before we leave and your father has one of the farm trucks if we need to go anywhere. Just go have some fun and be back whenever you’re finished.” Mom waved at me and turned back to her dishes.
“Okay, I’ll see you later.” I grabbed the keys and my purse and walked out of the house. I clambered into the truck and started on my way. It would be close to 10 AM when I rolled into town. Most everything would open by that time.
The trip into town was uneventful and pleasant. Figured I would stop by the video rental store first thing and rent those movies I have been longing to see. We don’t have a theater in town, and I’m usually too occupied with studies, among other things, while classes are in session. I pulled the family truckster into the parking lot and found a suitably large space, removed the keys, and walked into the Movie Shack.
“Hey, Sam!” Trish, one of my other good friends, has worked at this store ever since her parents opened it several years ago. “Kristen dropped by last evening and said she had seen you. What have you been up to?”
“Oh, not too much, just working around the farm and staying out of trouble,” I replied with a smirk. “How’s business?” A loaded question, as they had the only rental store within twenty miles. Trish didn’t go off to college after graduation. She had managed to receive her business training in the real world. In fact, she basically had total control over the store, even while still in school. Her parents are well off and have a variety of other businesses, particularly the supermarket and hardware store. Susan, the busybody at the hardware store, is her mother. Every town has them, the family who owns everything. The local “money”. But, Trish has always been levelheaded and unpretentious. For some reason, she always dresses fairly conservatively with jeans or slacks and either button down blouses or sweaters, and sneakers or other types of sensible shoes, never heels. And she’s really cute, too. Her neck-length straight blonde hair and bangs highlight her fair skin and slight features. I wish she would date a little more, though, if she dates at all.
“Really good, actually. Lot’s of blockbusters and big name actors this year. Everything’s a must-see,” she enthusiastically responded. “Are you looking for anything in particular? You’re early, so most everything is still on the shelves.” She stepped from behind the counter and we made a trip through the store. “Kristen mentioned your parents were going away for a week and you’d be all alone. Must be nice. I wish my parents would leave for a while, but they think the world would blow itself up because of their absence.”
“Yeah, it should be a pleasant vacation for me as well.” I smirked again. “Kristen wants to come out some time next week, and I’d like to have you out as well. It’s been a while since we’ve been able to get together. What do you think?”
“Sure, why not. I can pretty much make my own schedule. Just give me a call,” she eagerly replied. The strange thing about Trish was that although her parents are wealthy, and she is popular and pretty, she has not dated for years. I think that one of her boyfriends hurt her emotionally several years ago and she never recovered, although I have never had the courage to ask any of the specifics. She’s always been a bit of an introvert, until she gets accustomed to someone. But, she’s always been really shy. I think that’s one reason she has excelled with her business. I’ve never met a person who is as knowledgeable of the cinema as Trish. She knows every plot and every character of almost every movie ever made. She is always quoting some movie line or acting out a scene. I suppose she can relate to the characters in a non-confrontational way without losing her grasp on reality. It’s almost sad, in a way. But, she seems happy and fulfilled, so who am I to judge?
She helped me pick out several videos and we walked back to the counter. I opened my purse and pulled out some money as she rang up the rentals. “Bring ‘em back when you’re done. Don’t worry about the due time. Just give me a call and we’ll call it even.”
“Thanks, Trish. It’ll probably be early next week,” I responded with a smile. “I’ll have some loose ends to tie up before I can have anyone out.”
“Fair enough. Let me know,” she grinned. Say ‘Hi’ to your parents for me.”
“Okay, I’ll do.” I picked up the bag of tapes and walked out the door. “Call you soon.”
I started the pickup and drove towards the supermarket. Mom’s list wasn’t too large, but many of the items were somewhat bulky. A couple of 50 pound bags of dog food, two four pound bags of cat food, three twelve packs of soda pop, bags of bread, lunchmeat, chips. In other words, picnic fare for their trip. Money is no object on new vehicles, but my parents are cheap bastards when it comes to eating out. I grabbed a shopping cart from the corral and walked through the automatic sliding doors.
After unfolding the shopping list, I made my way around the store and
picked out all of Mom’s items, then picked up some food, snacks, and drinks
for myself. Too far to drive for a quick takeout order and no driver
will go that far out of town to make a delivery. “Batteries?” I quizzed
myself. “The value pack of eight should be sufficient,” I thought.
And a small package of condoms completed my small list.
There wasn’t much of a wait for checkout and I paid for the two grocery lists separately. (Joe would include Mom’s receipt in next year’s tax return for ‘business travel expenses’.) I declined the offer for help out to the truck and pushed the cart out of the store and unloaded most of the goods into the bed and the more fragile items into the back seat, returned the cart to the corral, and motored out of the parking lot. All I had left to do was to fill the truck up with diesel, but I felt like driving around for a while. It’s amazing how quickly things in small towns change while one is away and I just wanted to cruise town and the outskirts and take in the sights.
A little over an hour later, I drove into the service station and maneuvered the truck to the diesel pump and inserted the nozzle into the first of two filler neck openings. My God, this truck holds a crap load of diesel, and good thing, too, because it really likes the stuff. Luckily the nozzle clicked off before the pump rolled around to fifty dollars. Trish’s dad Bill owns the station and prefers cash. He and Dad have been best friends since grade school and members of the same lodge for years. I pulled the Fifty out of my front pocket and walked up to the cash register. “$48.50 in diesel,” I mentioned to the clerk, as I handed her the bill.
“$1.50 is your change. Thanks and come again,” she replied with a smile.
I smiled back and collected the money. “See you later,” I spoke
as I walked back to the truck. With a twist of the key and a puff
of black smoke the truck roared to life and I pulled onto the road and
made my way home. Time was drawing nigh and I had but only one day
left to wait for my peaceful and satisfying time alone. The drive
back was quiet as I went over the planned scenario for my future session.
More to Come in Part Seven