A Walk in the Clouds

This was an occurance at the race shop after a race in Atlanta and before a race in Riverside, California that involved a friend of a friend in a more intimate moment.

 

 

INDEX

These articles, stories and accounts of my life, as I recall them, and are copywrited. Unauthorized use will be pursued at my determination, to the degree that I am inclined. Any hard feeling caused by memories that don't match yours are unfortunate and you'll just have to get over it! Feel free to contact me if you have a request for their use.


It was late one unusually warm and pleasant South Carolina afternoon, and as I glance up toward the road, I am drawn to four gorgeous legs in two of the thinnest sun dresses that I had seen for quite some time, and they were headed right towards the shop. With the sun at their back, It was easy to distinguish the contours of their legs that were outlined by the sun, and creating a kaleidoscope of shadows as they walked towards us.

As I continued to peer from the back of the Thunderbird quarter panel, I immediately recognized my girlfriend of two years in the light blue dress, but the more tanned pair of legs that were making the hem of the darker blue dress swing back and forth, was not readily identified. As they stepped onto the concrete pad area out side the shop, and headed towards the large garage door, it was obvious that they were both aware of the noise being made inside the shop as they glanced at each other and purposely decided to step more heavily with their high heel shoes, in matching step, in an attempt to offset the clatter in the shop and thereby get noticed.

And noticed, they were, and they each had wide grins, exposing two gorgeous sets of white ‘pearlies’ as they approached me, knowing full well they were having the desired affect, not only on me, but on the other workers as well. I had four fabricators hard at work in the shop at the time. One was welding up an aluminum dry sump oil tank, one was grinding and sanding on a recently shaped right front fender and the other two were fitting the front radiator hoop on the nose of the car, being careful not to damage the expensive fins on the aluminum radiator.

I was sitting on a roll around shop stool, working on fitting the gas can filler nozzle insert when they both sauntered right up in front of me, stood about two feet apart from each other with their hands on their hips and their legs slightly parted, with that “what do you think of this” attitude written all over their face, and the shop went dead silent. At that point, my girlfriend Lindy, facing me and with her hips no more than a foot from my face introduces me to her friend Kylie. Lindy was the slightly taller of the two, but they were similar in stature, differing mainly in their hairdos, as Lindy wore her blonde hair in a medium length, slightly curly arrangement and Kylie had jet black, smooth flowing hair that extended about six to eight inches below her shoulders.

These ladies knew they had disrupted the entire shop, and they didn’t give a rats’ ass, and neither did I. Our crew repeatedly works 60-70 hours a week, some times more, in this line of work, and one of the few, but most pleasant perks of this job is the feminine attention that the cars and their crews attract. This was no exception, and we all stopped to take in the attention that we were being given. One of the most exciting parts of this line of work, for me, is the contrasts of circumstances and environments and the comparisons of different worlds colliding at a particular point in time.

In a matter of moments, this particular room had changed from an environment that was inhabited by a group of hot, sweating men, intent on bending sheet metal and welding steel while creating sparks and noise, as smoke and the pungent smell of grease permeated the corners and the walls, to at once a suddenly quite room, with a totally different atmosphere. Just a moment ago, the entire crew was applying their individual efforts to noisily and forcibly muscle to conclusion, the mechanical endeavors they had been assigned, while for the most part, working heads down in the midst of all the electrical cords, welding cables and torch hoses that were strewn about the floor over the accumulated coating of grinding dust, metal shavings and left over car parts, but, at this particular moment, it was silent and every one’s attention was focused in one area, and that was at the feet and legs of these two gorgeous women. Their toe nails were brightly colored and their perfumes were a welcome scent, starkly contrasting with the smell of steel grinding residue and the argon welding gas odor.

Lindy, knowing that we had to leave for a race in California in the morning, had stopped by the shop to introduce me to a friend of hers that she had spent some time with while living in Florida, and wanted to know if the three of us could order in pizza and beer this evening and dine at my house that was situated up nearer the road. Duh!!! Who would pass up a chance to spend time with a pair of honey’s like this! They shifted back and forth, their hips undulating in a calculated manner that ensured they would be watched intently as they exited the shop and made their way up the path to the house to prepare for the evening.

Damn, she knew that wearing a dress like that, having her toe nails painted, and smelling like that would put me ‘in the mood’ and it made me look forward to this evening, but I was unsure as to what kind of hindrance there might be, having her friend around.

“Back to it boys” I yelled out, trying my best to get the guys back to work but to no avail, as we all began shuffling around a bit, and then I noticed that I was probably not the only one not wanting to get vertical right away and move around, as we all seemed to share varying degrees of a bulging impediment.

That is just a reality of being in this business. Those of us that were full time racers, particularly the ones that were members of the over the wall pit crews, seemed to share a common outlook on our congested life. “You will not outwork me during the day,” and “you will not out love me at night.” Having these ladies in the shop this afternoon blurred that line and we were all having trouble deciding which part of the day it was. That was a dangerous realization to me and so I called it a day. Whatever you do to prepare a high speed race car, you are saying ‘trust me’ to the driver, and it seemed to be a bad idea to continue working on this car with the chance of half-assed work being done while the guys had ‘full-ass’ on their minds. Damn, the remnant of their combined perfumes still wafted over the area, and I might have been the most effected of the bunch, as I had a history with this tall blonde lady, and was already envisioning what lay ahead this evening. We usually only got to ‘play hard’ when I am not on the road and this clearly looked to have the possibility of one of those evenings.

We all cleaned up our respective areas of the shop, hanging the electrical cords and welding hoses in their places and making sure that all the welders were turned off and the welding tanks tightened down to prevent an explosion in the shop area during the night. When attaching new sheet metal body panels, we use contour templates and they have to be handled by two guys to prevent them from becoming distorted and making us get ‘busted’ in the inspection bay prior to qualifying, so we all took care getting them hung on the walls of the shop in their correct positions. I had two of the guys take one last look thru the race hauler, to make sure the road course car was fastened down tightly and close it up, preparing for the long trip in the morning. All that remained was to hook up to the truck and we’d be ready to ride.

Before I actually turn out the lights and close the door at night to the race shop, I have a habit of turning back and making a sweeping view around the room. I just want to remember what it looks and smells like. As I turn out the light, it feels like I have left one thin layer of me behind, perhaps to keep in touch with the ongoing creation that will linger in the dark.

The transformation is beginning! As I walk towards the house, leaving the hot, sometimes acrimonious smell of the shop behind, my anticipation is growing regarding the change that is occurring in my environment. The day and the night are at a cross roads. My days and the nights are quite similar in description, but devoutly differing in their feel. My days are spent molding and shaping cold, rigid steel and aluminum, along with varying textures of rubber and metal surfaces. Coaxing a certain shape, using intense heat to get the desired contour, then to apply the coloring, resplendent with shades and tones that complement each other. Then, with the hood removed you install the heart of your mistress, nestle it into place, apply appropriate libation and with the flip of a switch, it roars to life. Your creation lives, nourishing your soul, and your body tingles from eyebrows to toe nails. The smell of engine oil, gasoline and burning paint leaves you drunk with satisfaction. As stroked as you are, you need to caress her lightly, as one incorrect touch and she will leave you burned or bleeding. You have transformed cold steel to blistering heat. It’s a feeling that no one can provide you. You cannot buy it, but you have earned it. It is the climax to your endeavor!

As day transforms into night, I look forward to the evenings where with a certain comparable sequence of dedicated effort has the distinct possibility of having the same desired conclusion. The onset of darkness is expected to start out with at least a modicum of warmth, with the anticipation of an increase in temperature as the night progresses. I am not disappointed as I open the back door and step into my house, already being warmed by two of natures finest.

There is an immediate and strong physical and mental heat exchanged as my lady puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me a kiss, while wrinkling her nose and telling me it’s time for a shower. “Alone” she says, laughing. I glance over at Kylie, and notice the way she watches the interaction between Lindy and me. It’s as if she approves, but does not quite understand.

As I head back to the bedroom to take my shower, I hear Kylie ask me what I want on the pizza, and I yell back, ”whatever you guys want, but no onions or mushrooms”. I turn on the shower, get undressed, attend to some shaving and brush my teeth as I have company this evening. I have been in the shower about two or three minutes when I hear Lindy ask “What do you think about Kylie?” I tell her that I think she is quite attractive and that I love her tan, and Lindy begins to tell me about Kylie. “She was born in Hawaii to Samoan parents and that is not a tan, but her natural skin tone” I asked if that meant she had no tan lines, to which she replies “You will have to find that out for yourself.” That seemed a strange answer, but I continued the shower and wash my hair.

Lindy then said that she had something that she wanted to tell me. That generally scares the shit out of a guy, but I said go ahead, what is it, and she blurted out that she and Kylie had been lovers on a couple of nights when they both lived in Florida, but for me not to get any ‘ideas’ because Kylie was a confirmed lesbian, and was just passing thru Charlotte on her way to Canada and had an overnight layover, and wanted to say hello while she was in town. She continued to say that Kylie had expressed an interest in visiting a race car shop because her dad had been involved in stock car racing at one point, and when he found out there was a layover in Charlotte he had suggested she try to take a look at one of the race shops if possible, thus the call and the connection.

“Too freakin’ bad,” I said, “Kylie has a great ass, and her tits look about like yours” I continued. “Right on both accounts,” she replied. “And she’s a good kisser too.” Lindy laughed, and continued to tell me about how smooth her Polynesian skin felt as well, and that her skin was most attractive when she was sweating slightly. All this talk was giving me a raging hard on and as I was rinsing off, I said to Lindy, “how ‘bout you getting in here with me to finish this conversation”, at which point she pulls back the curtain, and there is Kylie standing behind Lindy with one hand cupping each breast, and a grin on her face like a Cheshire cat, including that gorgeous set of teeth.

Here I am, naked as hell, with a raging hard on, and all three of us red faced for some reason. Just then the doorbell rings and it’s the pizza guy and Kylie goes to deal with him and Lindy says “save it for later big boy, she is just visiting, and besides, I have a better shot at it than you do”. I am damn disappointed, but I don’t want to screw up what I already have, so I get dressed, commando, dry my hair and get to the kitchen just as the bottle caps fly and the smell of an all meat pizza fills the small kitchen area.

Well, we eat awhile, drink awhile and shoot the shit for awhile, and I learn that both Lindy and Kylie had entered the Miss Florida pageant a number of years back and that is how they met. Kylie was now on her way to interview for a job in the Canadian health care system and was nervous about the amount of work that might be involved, should she get the job and was concerned about having to move. I wasn’t getting the sense that there were any ‘sparks’ flying between the two of them, but It didn’t keep my mind from wandering, as I was anticipating what might lay in store for me later that evening and made the comment that I better go to the living room and try to relax a little. Lindy followed me in to the living room and said that she would rub my back now, if I would give her one of my special warm oil massages later. Kylie burst into the room and said “warm oil massage? “How can a girl get one of those” she queried.

Lindy told her that I would often give her a full body massage using warm oil that seemed to relieve both muscle and mental tension and always provided her with a feeling of relaxation.

“That’s what I really, really need tonight” said Kylie, almost begging.

I was usually interested in giving Lindy a massage because it usually ended up with us in the sack, but Lindy was quick to point out that I have also been known to give her a special ‘trust’ massage, where it was understood from the start that there would be no ‘hanky-panky’ during or following the massage.

“That’s what I need” chimed in Kylie.

From her perspective, I understood why that would be important to her, and I agreed that if it was OK with Lindy, I would give her a massage with the warm coconut oil.

Lindy told her that I use fractionated coconut oil because it is good aromatic therapy and is light and non-greasy so it will shortly soak into the skin and it doesn’t stain the sheets if I spill it. After warming, Lindy continued, I put the oil in an old sweetener squeeze bottle with a small hole in the end to minimize the temperature difference if squirted onto a sensitive area, and minimized spillage if I tip it over during the massage.

Lindy continued to tell Kylie that there was a reason it was called a ‘trust’ massage because she would have to trust me completely. I could see that Lindy was starting to get worked up as she continued to describe that it would require Kylie to be entirely nude and that I would be touching every inch of Kylie’s body. Kylie was appeared to be getting excited as well, as evidenced by the continued crossing and uncrossing of her legs, and it was clear that she was pondering the attraction of the message versus the fact that she had just met me and was concerned that I would be not able to restrain myself.

Lindy looked her straight in the eye and said , “Don’t worry, you’ll be safe. He is a man of his word.

Are you shitting me? My girlfriend is telling this gorgeous girl that I am going to be rubbing every inch of her glorious naked body with warm oil, and I am going to be ‘a good boy?’ I’m already hard as a rock from just talking about it, but Lindy looks me in the eye and says for me:”Take good care of Kylie now, and I’ll take good care of you when you’re done.”

“As a matter of fact” said Lindy, “take her to the big truck and ‘do her’ there.” “She is only in town for this one night and she should get the royal treatment, don’t you think?

I was OK with it, but surprised as Lindy was the only one that I had given a massage to in the sleeper of the big 18-wheeler rig that we used to pull the 45 foot long race trailer with. Earlier in the summer we had spent more than 6-weeks filming the Burt Reynolds movie ‘Stroker Ace’, and had come away with enough cash to buy not only the new race trailer, but some new shop equipment, race car parts and additions as well as some new pit guns and some motor parts, but the favorite new ‘toy’ for me was the new quadraphonic stereo system that I had installed in the sleeping compartment of the big race truck. It was installed with the intention of being able to relax in the sleeper while your partner drove the truck. A run to the West Coast takes two days of straight driving thru day and night and you would welcome a change of scenery and a place to unwind without having to stop the truck.

I knew why Lindy wanted Kylie to be in the truck during the massage, and it sure wasn’t just for the music. She knew that I would start and run that big Thunder 400 motor!

So, it appeared settled, as Lindy gave Kylie her flip-flops, hugged her for a moment and told her to relax and enjoy it. I went to the bedroom to get the massage oil, slipped my tennis shoes on over my bare feet, tucked my tee-shirt into my jeans and we headed out the back door, down the steps and out into the warm, but cooling night. As we started down the path to the shop it momentarily caused the twin Dobermans to get a little jumpy as they began to growl and whine, as they did not recognizing Kylie right away. Noting that she was not an intruder quickly calmed them down, and they continued to follow us at a distance as we continued our trek towards the truck. There was a very small breeze this evening and the back yard was home to an abundance of widely spaced pine trees, their branches scattering the moonlight into a slow dancing pattern upon the needle laden ground, providing a weaving carpet for us as we made our way past the guard gate, down along the chain link fence to the shop, neither of us speaking a word.

Earlier in the day we had unhooked the truck from the trailer and placed it on the concrete pad facing the large shop doors so we could wash the cab, detail the large fuel tanks and polish the chrome bumper and mirrors and the like. In this position the moonlight reflected off the galvanized steel roofing of the shop and directly into the sleeping compartment at the rear of the cab. It was a White Road Commander COE with a 400 Cummins motor, that had been loaned to us by a North Carolina trucking company, and it had been well taken care of.

“Wait here” I said as we had approached the truck from the rear and I wanted to reach up and open the passenger door. “I need to open the door first because it will take both hands to help you up the ladder and into the truck.” She had to reach out and hold onto me to maintain her balance as she raised her left foot high enough to reach the lower step of the ladder. I then explained that she should place her right foot on the next step, then move her left foot up and into the cab, but as she started into the cab, she faltered and to keep her from falling, I had to quickly grab her and palmed each of her butt cheeks in each of my hands.

Damn, this is going to be difficult to complete in the correct manner.

I close the door behind her and go around to the other side and jump up into the driver’s seat and quietly close the door. She is still in the dress she had on earlier in the day and the reflected moonlight highlights the upper contours of her cheekbones and smooth, narrowing contour of her jaw, and as she turns to speak our eyes meet and I ask if she is still thinks this is a good idea.

She nods to me that she does, and says “I am actually getting quite excited about the idea.”

Reaching for the drink heater that we keep in the truck, I notice that it still has some old coffee in the cup from earlier today, and that will save me from having to go into the shop for some water. I plug it into the cigarette lighter, set the coconut oil bottle down into the cold coffee and tell her that it will take a minute or two to get warm and that I will get the truck running and turn on some music in the meantime.

It was warm enough outside that I did not need to turn on the glow plug, and as I reach towards the ignition key as I turn to Kylie and say “Hang on, here goes”. I hardly turned the engine over twice and I thought that she was going to soil her doilies, as the motor abruptly roared to life. The 5” diameter exhaust pipes began to bellow just outside of the cab, inches from where she was sitting, and that big 400 motor began to shimmy and shake the cab ever so softly, causing her to grab the seat, not knowing what to expect next. I looked over at her and said: “cool, huh!” and she immediately began to smile, letting go of the seat. She was beginning to see why Lindy wanted me to bring her down to the truck. We were almost 8 feet in the air and the entire truck was vibrating with a constant deep, throaty roar that could be felt blow the skin surface.


I tested the temperature of the massage oil, and finding it not quite warm enough , suggested that we turn on some music and in doing so, mentioned that if she had spent some time in Florida, did she like any of the Allman Brothers music, and she said “hell yes!” I reached over and behind her to retrieve one of their early albums from our portable tape storage case and inserted it into the tape deck. We listened to some Midnight Rider and In Memory of Elizabeth Reed for a time and then finding the oil getting warm, I said again “are you sure about this?” and her response was to move forward on the seat, take off her dress and crawl up on to the engine cover and back into the sleeper.

Damn, watching that narrow ass crawl over the sleeper threshold sure made me wonder if I could get her to change ‘teams’. I took out the Allman Brothers cassette and inserted some Lionel Ritche and set a Phil Collins tape nearby.

The size of the sleeper made it impossible for me to get on either one side of her or the other making it was apparent to us both that I would have to straddle her for the duration of this encounter. My jeans were too binding to permit the wide stance needed to straddle her, so I removed them and tossed them in the front seat, and as I turned back toward her I saw her wide smile as she was checking out my ‘stuff’. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just shook my head and continued by straddling her stomach. I told her that I wanted to start by working on her head and neck area before I put any oil on my hands, because the long length was going to make it difficult to keep from getting any oil in her hair. I worked around her temples with my thumbs while at the same time caressing behind her ears with my middle fingers while I gently ran my little fingers down the sides of her neck. Then leaning off to one side, I motioned for her to roll over onto her stomach, and spread her arms about 45 degrees, and as I swung back over her and straddled her back I am sure she was aware of the effect that she was having on me, but made no mention of it.

I continued to work on her neck and head, trying to not rub too hard or create friction between my fingers and her hair. Continuing, I attended to her ears, caressing both sides at the same time as I moved about her neck area, dwelling in the crevasse at the base of the skull and the upper area of her spine. I could tell that she was getting more comfortable and beginning to relax, so I began to speak to her softly and said to her “you know I am going to see you in your entirety don’t you”. “yes” she murmured. “You understand that you will be naked in my presence”. “Yes” she murmured again. “You know that I will be touching every inch of your naked body?” “Mmmmm” was all she could say. This time, rather than rolling to one side, I slid backwards, down to her feet and told her to roll over and take off your underwear. She rolled over, sat up, and looking straight at me the entire time, reached behind her and unhooked her bra, laid it at her side, then raising up on the soles of her feet she slid her panties down to her knees and continued by pulling her knees upward and slipped them over her feet and handed both her bra and panties to me. I turned and leaned forward to hang them on the knob of the gear shift lever.

I imagine that it was an overwhelming experience for us both, but I was most drawn to the contrast of her plain white underwear to her olive toned skin, highlighted by the reflected moonlight. I found it most breath taking, and when I turned back towards her, she was still sitting up on one arm looking directly at me with those dark eyes and with each deepening breath, the movement of her breasts and nipples were creating moon shadows that danced across her chest.

“Back to work” I say to myself! This is going to be a test for me, I can tell.

I tell her to lay back with her arms to her side and her legs parted slightly. I then tell her that I only want her to speak two words until I am finished. If I am doing something she really likes, but would like more pressure, she can say “more”. If she would like a softer touch, she can say ”less”. If at any time she wants me to quit, she can say “stop” and we will immediately go back up to the house. I ask her if she understands, and she responds by nodding her head.

Reaching for the oil I move down below her feet and reaching under one knee, I pick it up and begin to apply the soothing warmth, working it into her calf, first with a kneading motion, then with long strokes up and down her calf to just above the ankle. I repeat this effort on her other leg, and then I work my way back up to her upper thigh and applying more warmth and soothing aroma, I work my way around the upper area of both legs. Then, switching back to the other leg, I lift her foot and cradle her ankle as I start to apply warm oil to each of her toes, making sure that I touch all the way around every one of them and then spend several moments caressing the entire ankle with varying amounts of pressure, then returning to the soles of her feet and I spend a lot of time in circular motions with varying pressure.

Still, no sound other than Lionel Ritche in the background singing about once, twice, three times a lady…, as the engines’ not so subtle rumbling and vibration is providing the evenings prominent ambiance. I move to the other ankle and continue until I am finished with her lower extremities, and then tell her to close her legs and to move her arms away from her body as I slid up her legs and stop when I am at the juncture of her hips. We can each feel the heat from each others touch, but again, neither of us speaks. I feel myself adjusting and becoming more relaxed as well, as the familiar engine sound and the accompanying vibration is a welcome companion from my many travels and it sooths me.

Rubbing some oil on my palms, I begin at her right shoulder, and like with her legs, I work my way downward, past her elbow to the wrist, then massage each finger in its entirety and squeeze her palms repeatedly with my hands. I have to be careful because my hands are calloused and my forearms and grip are stronger than most because of the years of cutting sheet metal with snips and the thousands of pop rivets I have installed. I finish her other arm from the left shoulder down and tell her to roll over onto her stomach and to spread her arms above her head and to spread her legs slightly apart. She does so without a sound.

I whisper to her that I will soon be touching some of her more sensitive areas and that she can take advantage of that by using her imagination in any way she likes to enhance and heighten the moment. I tell her that her most erogenous zone is not between her legs, but between her ears, and for her to try and explore that imagery as far and as long as she can while we are share this moment. I tell her that she has unlimited mental freedom tonight. Her simple response was “Mmmmmm” making me think that she not only understood quite well, but may even have been a little ahead of me.

I straddled her left leg, and again, I am sure she felt the heat from my nearness again, and once more, no acknowledgment was forthcoming and I proceeded to attend to the rear of her upper leg by applying the coconut oil to the top of her leg and then rubbing it down both sides of her thighs and pausing to give additional attention to both sides and particularly the back of her knee. Then, using both thumbs on the top of her leg, I alternately apply moderate pressure as I work my way towards the top of her thigh while at the same time, using my remaining fingers to simultaneously caress both sides of her thighs, and as earlier, continue to her ankles and spend additional time with both feet. As I move upward and approach the curvature of her butt, I hear her say “mm..mm..more”, so I grasp her thigh again and repeat the process again with additional pressure, and then straddle the right leg and repeat my digital manipulation in the same manner that I have just done on her left leg.

At this point, I reach down and bring her legs together and straddle her in a manner that leaves me firmly nestled directly between the cheeks of her ass, and with a slight upward movement on her part, I feel her clench me quickly and gently, and I am instantly amazed at my ability to control my own movements, but control them I did, as I reached down and starting with her shoulders, I continued. I began to massage and caress both of her upper arms in the same slow, methodical manner that I had attended to on her upper legs, moving on down to her hands and fingers. With another handful of the scented oil, I released it directly between her shoulder blades, randomly applying it over her entire back, and then touching the tips of my thumbs together, I began to slowly, but forcefully manipulate my way down to the small of her back until I am surrounding each of her butt cheeks with the palm of each of my hands, then rotating my hands in a manner that my thumbs are at the base of her crevasse, I alternately run my thumbs upwardly, tracing the base of her crease until I reach the small of her back when, again, I hear her say mm..more”. I repeat this several times, and then return to transverse her back with the remaining amount of oil.

The oil was cooling at this point, so I leaned forward to the top of the engine cover and put the coconut oil back in the drink warmer, telling Kylie that it would be a minute or two, but it was important that the oil be good and warm for the remaining portion of the massage, and that she should roll back over and lay on her back. She quickly did so, and as she was settling down, she spread her legs wide and looked up at me with her eyes wide, but was unable to hold my attention. I could not prevent myself from feasting on this vision that lay before me. Here in front of me was a very attractive young Polynesian lady, completely nude, awaiting my touch, displaying a very firm set of breasts and a prominent hirsute pubic mound, all of which was bathed in the South Carolina moonlight, and the only response I had was to purse my lips and shake my head. I had given my word!

I reached over and retrieved the warmer oil and placed myself between her splayed knees. She was clearly relaxed and fully trusting at this point, oblivious to the condition she had put me in, but it seemed important to me to continue with the task at hand as opposed to dreaming about what might be.

From this point forward in the massage I squeezed the oil directly into my palms, not only to help maintain the warmth, but I wanted her to feel only my touch for the balance of time we had left. I started at the top of both shoulders at the same time, my fingers running across the top of her shoulder blades as I caressed her neck and the bottom of her chin with the bottoms of my thumbs. I re-applied a liberal amount of oil this time, and keeping the tips of my thumbs together, I pulled the palms of my hands down directly over each breast, momentarily rotating my hands and reversing my movement in a manner that captured each nipple between the joints of my fingers, followed by gentle undulations of my palms, then continuing, I made my way down her chest, dwelling slightly to play with her belly button and continued to the edge of her pelvis while keeping my fingers busy about the outer edges of her rib cage. I repeated this series several times, drawing a low murmur from her each time I passed over her breasts.

As I paused to apply oil to my palms once more, I felt her shift her legs and widen her stance, apparently in anticipation of what she expected to happen next. I positioned myself between her widened legs, and noted that I have to be careful here, as I had promised not to be intrusive or overbearing in this regard, but the idea here is to provide a physical stimulus that results in an emotionally guided relaxation of muscles leading to the release of tension in all areas of the body. With that thought in mind, I proceeded to apply large amounts of the warm oil to my palms and quickly moved to the inner edges of her thighs where I began to apply moderate pressure with the flat sides of my thumbs from the juncture of her legs up to and tracing along the pelvic bones, then progressively moving closer with each upward passage until I was at the outer edges of her pleasure junction.

Even in the moon light it was easy to discern the reflection of moisture that was present in areas that I had yet to caress, so I quickly added more oil and moved to place the flat edge of each thumb at the bottom of her folds and beginning from that nether region, I softly and slowly traced her lips until I reached the ‘little man in the boat’ at which time she once again murmured ‘more’. I continued repeating this movement, rotating the edges of my thumb inward with each upward stroke until she stiffened noticeably at which time I began to caress the little guy and told him to hang on there for a minute or two.

As she continued to calm down, I ran my hands downward until I reached her feet and began to pamper the soles of her feet and her ankles with slow strokes and varying degrees of rotation. She pulled herself up on one elbow and said “son of a bitch that was nice. Up this high in this vibrating truck is like a walk in the clouds, no wonder Lindy likes your ass”.

Now that I had attended to this ‘project’, I was hell bent to get back to the house to see how the rest of my evening was going to turn out, so I got back into the front of the cab, put my pants on, turned off the music and shut down the truck motor, waiting for it to clank and shudder and to finally stop. As soon as the motor stopped, I opened the door, stepped down the ladder and went around the back of the truck to help Kylie down out of the truck, and just as I got there, I looked up and there was the crack of that girl’s ass, right there in the moon light. She had decided not to put on any of her clothes, choosing instead to walk back up to the house in all her glory. She was obviously covered in oil, making exiting the truck from that height some what difficult, so I reached around her and helped her to the ground
.
She started up the path to the house with her dress in one hand and her underwear and the flip flops in her other hand, and I was more than happy to follow her up the entire length of the pathway in the event that she might drop something. (I could only wish). You can imagine how I was feeling, as I following this naked lady, moistened over her entire body with oil and sweat as she meandered thru the pines with occasional moon beam creating dancing shadows that would drift down her entire body as she walked. It was not difficult to see the path in the moon light, but I was ‘pointing the way’ from the rear as we made our way to the house. Even the two dogs gazed intently, in silence, as she walked back by.
Too soon we reached the house, but I was glad to see Lindy was still awake and appeared to be happy for both of us. Kylie and I both went to the bathroom where she began to shower as I washed off the oil from my hands and legs and headed directly to the bedroom, happy to see my lady waiting for me.

Lindy was an accomplished triple threat lover with switch hitting capabilities, but this evening she and I played a double header, both of which went into extra innings. As I was drifting off to sleep, I was mindful that I had to get up early in the morning and hook the truck to the trailer and get ready for another long road trip.

We had to saddle up for the ride to Riverside. It is a 54 hour trip, a third of which I was going to be sleeping in the back of that same truck sleeper listening to Dickie Betts ripping into ‘Jessica’ and ‘The Midnight Rider’, while my driving partner, no doubt, would be bitchin’ about that coconut smell.

Damn, it’s a good life!