“I used a drone and military satellite maps.”
Molly started laughing. She was giddy from the Scotch, the wine, the cognac, the hot fire, the beautiful setting, and anticipating getting into bed soon with this sexy man.
“You have a drone?”
“Army Rangers learn all the traditional survival skills, and I use all of that. But we received very sophisticated training in electronic surveillance and GIS mapping. I gathered all the satellite data the army had on the Pasayten and studied these amazingly detailed maps. I wanted a tiny nook off the grid that no one would ever find. It had to be beautiful, camouflaged, extremely remote, with water, grazing for Beryl, wildlife for food, and wood for fire. The survivalist basics are water, food, shelter, and heat. When I found several candidates, I hiked as close as I could with my drone. I sent the drone up with a camera and studied the images on a laptop. I spent an entire summer exploring possibilities until I found my place.”
“Impressive. And nowhere near a hiking trail?”
“Correct. We veer off the main route to animal trails. I’m quite confident no one is ever going to find this place.”
“And how long have you had it?”
“This is my sixth year.”
“How much longer?”
“Don’t know. I’m very happy out there.”
They snuggled into bed naked lying side to side facing the other. She kissed him, a short, warm kiss, but it felt so right. His hands were already lightly caressing her. She liked him touching her.
“Thank you for telling me about your set up. It takes quite the mix of skills to pull something like that off. I’m impressed.”
“It’s what I’m trained to do. Survive.”
She kissed him, short, warm, tender kisses. She liked being naked with him in bed knowing what was ahead. But she was in no rush. The afternoon sex had taken the edge off. She felt very close to him after the wonderful afternoon and evening. Conversation had been so easy and comfortable. She loved his hands on her, his eyes intensely focused on hers.
“Can I take you out to breakfast in the morning?”
“Sure. Or I could make you breakfast here.”
She giggled, “I want to show you off.”
“Attention. Not really my thing.”
She told him about their being seen on his last visit by fishermen and the ensuing conversations with Evelyn and Betsy, including the condom purchase.
“Sorry about that. Do you understand why I like living off the grid?”
“Yes. But I want to put all that to bed. Showing up with you in the morning as a couple will end the gossip. We’re a couple. No secrets. No big deal. Life moves on.”
“If that works for you, fine with me. Shall we buy some more condoms at the store?”
“Maybe we could do that at Fred Meyer.”
The lovemaking that night was beautiful. After long foreplay, side to side, light playful kissing, talking, his hands never leaving her, lips close, the intensity grew slowly. Conversation eventually stopped, the kissing got deeper and more intense, mouths open, hot, passionate kisses, lips and tongues active. Molly felt her arousal everywhere: the blood was hot in her neck and face; between kisses, her mouth was open and breaths were coming in light pants; her heart was pounding; the moisture had gathered below; her groin was throbbing, her body ready; and the kissing went on and on.
Finally, she reached down. He was crowbar hard and big as a horse. She rolled out of bed, retrieved a condom, pushed him to his back, and rolled it on, admiring its magnificence. Getting on top, she snugged her knees against his waist and positioned him at her moist opening, moving in light circles, but not inside. Before insertion, she leaned down and kissed him, a long, hot, passionate kiss, his hands lightly on her. Still kissing him, she pressed down, sending him deep inside in one long fantastic groaning stroke.
Once deeply seated, she kept him there, their pelvic bones mashed tight, as they continued to kiss. Molly’s head was light and spinning, her body completely full. She pulled up from the kiss to whisper, “It doesn’t get any better than this.”
Molly stayed on top, moving into a long, steady, cowgirl stroking rhythm, their eyes intensely locked, his hands never leaving her, his fingers expertly working her hardened ends. She’d been with many cowboys, but she loved the emotional bond. She felt close to him. She loved being with him like this.
Feeling his finish approaching, she moved into a final frenzy, hard, aggressive closing thrusts, until her first contraction coaxed his release. She felt their bodies synchronize and move naturally through the final process. Keeping the connection, she fell down on his body, her breasts tight against his chest, her face on his shoulder, as he wrapped his arms around her back and held her tight. No words. A beautiful, long, warm aftermath.
When she finally released him, he got up and disposed of the condom. When he returned, he rolled over and she spooned in behind. She awoke in the night several times when his body was struggling with bad dreams. She guessed that was remnants from his military service. She held him tight and whispered, “It’s okay” until his body calmed again.
She woke when the morning sun came streaming through her bedroom window.
