A Day Away…


Dear, Avid, a much, more gentle story this time. Though, what some might consider a sort of shaggy dog story (not another werewolf one though), perhaps? You know how it is, a song gets stuck in your head (if your lucky it isn’t an annoying LCD inane piece of drivel), well this story was like that and I knew that until I finished it those thoughts would continue to reverberate around my cerebal cortex. The question is can you spot the inspiration for it???? I hope you enjoy it all the same…





The rain lashed down against the windscreen as the wipers struggled to sweep the deluge aside. The twin beams from the headlights faded each time they dropped away. I wound the side window down a fraction to let some fresh air into the car, breathing deeply filling my lungs as I peered into the dark outside world. I could imagine the warm house waiting for me at the end of the road trip from hell. Maybe the embers from the fire would be still glowing in the grate as I closed the heavy oak door behind me, banishing the dismal weather from my sight. She might be curled up on the couch, the heavy red blanket pulled down from the back of it, her present choice of read still open in her hand as her head rested on the arm. I’d smile as I knelt before her listening to that tiny whistle as she gently released each breath. My secret! She didn’t even know that she did it.

I’d brush the light blonde hair away from her face just so I could watch her eyes move rapidly beneath their lids. Hoping that she was dreaming of me! Sometimes I would just sit and watch but not tonight as I move closer trying to steal a kiss before she woke. I can feel my heart beating, hammering in my chest, rapidly thumping… far too fast… like it’s going to tear out of my body-



I come awake in an instant. The steering wheel in my hand is vibrating hard as I realise I have drifted on this lonesome highway and the tyres are running across the cats eyes dotted along the hardtop. My hands and feet go cold instantly as what feels like a gallon of adrenalin is dumped into my bloodstream. It takes me a few moments to realise I am in the centre of the road and I ease back into my lane. I lift off the accelerator and let the car coast to a stop on the hard shoulder. “Shit” I mutter to no-one but myself. The shakes set in once I pull on the hand-brake.

It takes me a good ten minutes and two cigarettes till I feel confident to pull away. Just as I check my mirrors the downpour pauses for a moment and I catch a glimpse of a red neon sign in the distance. I offer up a silent prayer to a God I don’t believe in. Barely a half mile further on the there seems to be a ray of light offering a safe haven.

The red light shimmers through the rain and I’m barely a hundred yards from it when I can read the sign, “The Victory Motel”. The next moment and it disappears completely. I slow to a crawl and edge forwards until my struggling high beam illuminates the dark shape of the roadside refuge. Chewing my lip as the motel now seems to be completely dark. I turn into it and the bright green doors stand out in the darkness below the covered walkway. A dark figure wrapped in a bright yellow fisherman’s Sowester scuttles through my field of vision, the hood turns towards me to stare for a moment, the features beneath a blur through the water pouring down the windscreen. It disappears into the darkness to my right and I see the flicker of a torch held in its hand as it steps from beneath the protection of the walkway and into the downpour. I swear beneath my breath and twist the steering wheel following the dark figure.

They stand under a small shelter on the side of an outbuilding, a brief look over their shoulder as my headlights provide illumination and they drop the torch to the ground, a brief muddy splash at their feet and the torch flickers and dies as they fumble with a white plastic hatch in front of their head. I watch from the dryness of my car as they eventually open it and stare inside. Something about the set of the shoulders of this unknown person tells me that they are swearing aloud before they close the hatch and pick up the dead torch and trudge through the mud back to the shelter of the walkway. I put my car into reverse and pull backwards till my headlights once again light up the motel rooms. The figure in the bright yellow oilskin is sat on the floor against room No. 7 as I kill the engine.

Taking a deep breath I grab my overnight bag from the passenger seat and open my door to the onslaught. Luckily, I manage to make the cover of the walkway without falling but I can feel the rain has still managed to soak me through to my skin. I grimace silently as I know my linen jacket is probably destroyed anyway. Shaking my head liberating a small spray of water, I look down at the forlorn figure. “Hello…?”

The figure lifts their head, their features unseen in the darkness, “Hello” they answer and for the first time I realise the stranger is a woman. She drops her head and looks at the mud splattered torch in her hand, giving it an ineffectual shake. “Power out… somewhere down the line I guess…” she states in a Southern drawl as much to the rain as to me. “I guess strictly speaking we’re closed” the head tilts upwards and for an unknown reason I feel a smile spread across my mouth.

“I’ll happily take a discount?”

I feel her eyes lock on mine although I can’t see them as she raises her arm for a hand up. I hope that there is a smile beneath the hood as I help her up. My eyes slowly become accustomed to the darkness as she stands before me, a good 10 inches shorter than me, as she drops the hood revealing a tangle of dark hair atop her pale face. “Well I guess you won’t be using the hairdryer or the pay-per-view so…” her voice trailed off and she turned and walked down towards where I had originally seen her appear. I followed, still grinning, my eyes flicking downwards to see her bare calves above a pair of much worn site boots and below the oilskin which would have probably been too large for me.

At the end of the walkway she opened the last glass fronted door and stared into the room beyond, “Fuck” I heard her whisper as she shook the useless torch in her hand. I dropped my hand into my pocket and pulled out my Zippo, striking it alight and handing it to her. For the first time I saw her face in the struggling flame. She looked like she was half my age, maybe twenty-two years of age, her cheeks were flushed and her dark hazel eyes sparkled with the flame. “You know there’s no smoking in the rooms” she said as the corners of her mouth turned up with a grin.

“Twenty minutes quit now. Just can’t let go of the lighter, sentimentality… and sometimes handy to have one, don’t you think?”

“Very!” she replied, her eyes roamed over my face before glancing down along my six foot frame. She turned away and walked cautiously into the darkened interior as I stood at the door. The flame was almost out before she located some candles and the motel office was bathed in the warm, flickering light from a half dozen points. When she was satisfied she turned back to me and again her eyes flicked up and down me before she offered her hand, “Paula, the schmuck, who’s been left in charge here at the Victory Motel.”

“Stuart, the schmuck who thought he could beat the storm. Pleased to meet you.” Her hand was warm and her shake was firm as we stared into each other’s eyes.

“Well, Stuart, no power so no heating and I guess you came from the west as the road to the east has been closed for the last four hours. Looks like the two of us are stuck with each other!”

“You’re alone here?” She nodded in reply and I released her hand, reaching into my sodden jacket and pulling out my wallet. “Look, I’m not a serial killer though  I guess that’s hard to prove so seeing as you are being so kind, please take my wallet and hide it somewhere and then give it back to me in the morning. A little insurance, perhaps?” She leant on the reception desk, a beaten register and a small silent radio plugged pointlessly into a wall socket.

She took the wallet from me and opened it, I felt a twinge of guilt and annoyance as I realised she was looking at a picture of my wife. A look passed across her face for a second and my heart gave a jump as I hoped it was disappointment. For fucks sake I’m old enough to be her father I thought to myself. She looked up at me and handed my wallet back to me, “Could be a fake I.D. just so you can buy alcohol! Who’s to say I’m not Norma Bates or Catherine Tramell?”

“Catherine Tramell?” I asked.

Her grin broadened, “Basic Instinct?”

“Ahh… well, if you are a serial killer, I guess I would prefer Miss Tramell.” Jeez, stop flirting you idiot!

“She did seem to have more fun than Norman.” I was beginning to wonder who was flirting with whom. “You’d better get out of those wet things…” she flicked her arm over her shoulder, a fine spray of water covering the wooden floor as she pointed with her thumb to the door behind her, “there’s a room in back.” I pulled off my muddy loafers (also now ruined) at the door and walked past her in my stockinged feet.

“Thanks Paula” I said as she handed me a candle.


In the spartan back room I quickly stripped off my suit and shirt. I looked at the small cot sat in the corner, the covers thrown back and the imprint of Paula’s body still fresh upon the mattress. A pile of clothes left untidily on the floor, shorts, T-shirt and bra obvious; my foot tapped the floor as I wondered if there was a pair of panties secreted within the heap. I was also aware of my cock, swollen but not fully hard within my boxer shorts. “For Christ’s sake, Stuart, get a hold of yourself!” I grinned at the unintentional pun as I pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a plain white T-shirt from my overnight bag. I glanced at the small sink in the corner and thought about brushing my teeth. “You’re married you idiot, do you really think the likes of her would be interested in you?” I shook my head as I pulled on the fresh clothes. I hung my jacket and trousers carefully over the back of the single wooden chair forlornly hoping that the dry-cleaners might be able to save them before stepping back into the Motel office.

Paula was standing with her back to me at the reception desk with the phone to her ear, absent-mindedly chewing on a hang nail. “I’m done thanks” I said as she put the phone back in its cradle and turned about. She was still dressed in the oilskin but had removed the boots exposing her tiny bare feet, her toenails painted a dark colour impossible to define in the flickering candle light. Remembering the discarded clothes in the back room I wondered what, if anything, she was wearing beneath the waterproof.

“Hmmm… a whole new man” she commented as her eyes flicked to my arms noting the Tattoos peeking out from beneath both short sleeves. “Guess I’d better find something decent to put on…” she took the candle back from me and disappeared into the back room. I stood and stared as she left the door ajar feeling my cock twitch inside my jeans. Slowly and silently in my bare feet I stepped away from the door and sat on the old, but comfy looking, couch pushed up against one wall.

A few moments later Paula stepped back in wearing the shorts and T-shirt I had seen earlier. It took a great effort not to let my eyes wander down her slim frame but I still noted her small breasts, unfettered by a bra with their hard nipples beneath the Scooby-Doo cartoon on her T-shirt. The T-shirt was tucked into the waistband of her shorts, stretched tightly across her torso; the broad khaki belt cinched tightly accentuating her hips. She moved lithely across to the desk and sat on the tall stool behind it. My eyes flicked downwards as her bare heels lifted to the wooden crossbar, as I looked upwards I saw that her shorts were very baggy offering a glimpse beneath of her thighs before darkening further up towards her crotch.

“Well the landline is down, the mobile coverage, which is poor at the best of times, is now non-existent and I doubt the roads in either direction will be passable till at least morning. Looks like we’re stuck with each other for the night Stuart!” her fingernails drummed on the desk top as she spoke. “Damn, where are my manners?” She dropped onto her feet lightly and span about opening a small fridge beneath the counter. I feasted my eyes on her ass as she knelt forward peering into the abnormally dark interior of the fridge. She muttered to herself before reaching in and dragging out a box and placing it on the top above her head and then stood up with a plastic bag of fruit in her hand. “Okay, you have a choice, not too many of the food groups though… starch, sugar and carbohydrates with a dash of e-numbers or fruit?” she said turning to me, “Donuts, possibly stale, courtesy of my Uncle, I must talk to him about his diet; or apples?”

“You really don’t need to…” I was going to continue to say that all I needed was a bed for a few hours but I knew that wasn’t the foremost notion in my head now.

“What sort of hostess would that make me?” she answered with a pout.

I shrugged, “An apple then please.”

She opened the bag and lifted one out before pumping her arm out and bouncing it towards me off her bicep. I only just managed to catch it in my fingertips. Looking back at her; watching her grin broadly as she reached for her own piece of fruit. “Very good Private Stuart!” she munched loudly on her apple as I bit into my own.

The red apple was very sweet as I wondered what Paula would taste like, what she would feel like… My cock stiffened within my jeans and I felt as if I was going to blush. I raised my bare foot to the seat of the couch obscuring her view of my crotch even though it left my erection somewhat uncomfortable. Swallowing a chunk of apple I asked “So how come you’re left running the fort Private Paula?”

She scooped up a dribble of apple juice from her chin, licking the drop from her fingertip as she considered her reply. Damn, but this girl is a tease I thought to myself as I bit into my apple again. “Just earning a dollar during summer vacation, this is my uncle’s place. He had to head back to his house… my aunt gets a little jittery, who knew how bad the storm would get… not you” she said with a grin. “They’ve hardly had any rain in the last two years; I guess Mother Nature has been saving it up. So what’s your story?” she shifted on the stool raising one foot to fold beneath her thigh causing the leg of her shorts to gape further.

“Just a travelling man, trying to sell his wares… thought I could beat the storm… you just can’t rely on the weather man no more!” her eyes flicked to my left hand, noting my wedding band. Her bottom lip disappeared for a second as she held it between her teeth. The moment passed and her smile returned.

“What’s your business, travelling man?”

“Nothing interesting, just medical supplies” I answered.

“You a drug dealer, travelling man?” she replied with a grin as she tossed her apple core into the small bin beside the desk.

I grinned, “No such luck, I sell what they call ‘Disposables’. Gloves, masks, gowns and such…” I finished my apple and looked at the bin beside Paula. I felt a rush of nerves as I didn’t want to throw my core and miss and also didn’t want to stand up exposing the bulge in my pants.

“Everything you need to play Doctors and Nurses?” That mischievous grin never seemed to be far from her lips.

My cheeks burned as I felt them flush, I hoped in the dim light my embarrassment wouldn’t be seen. “…err… I guess…” I felt my cock twitch in its twisted position and I wished for Paula to look away so I could adjust myself without notice. “So, summer vacation… you at college, Paula?”

“Just finished, waiting for my grades” she shifted once again on her stool, dropping her foot back down to the wooden rail of the stool. My eyes followed her movement without conscious control and I knew she saw them drop to her crotch. My cheeks were hot now, my blood filling the capillaries as I hoped, wished that she wasn’t aware of my discomfort. I felt like I was a teenager once again trying to impress the girl.

“…what was your degree?” I asked hoping that none of my nervousness showed in my voice.

“Molecular Biology or how microbes like to fuck as we call it in our dorms!”

I coughed at the comment and her grin broadened. After a moment regaining my composure I asked “Are you always so… forthright?”

She dropped off the stool and turned her back to me as she opened the cupboards behind her. “No… Not often…” she answered. I stood up while her back was turned and tried to push my swollen member into a more comfortable position as I walked across to drop the core in the bin. I was only two feet from her and I could smell the subtle sweet aroma of an unknown perfume. She looked over her shoulder at me. I noticed the candlelight bounce of her white teeth as she smiled and the brief flick of her tongue between them.

“…err… where’s the…”

She turned back to the open cupboard and after a brief perusal closed it and opened the next as she said “Through the back room”

“Thanks” I stood still for a moment and let my eyes slowly rove down her back to her ass. She stretched up on her toes as she peered into the high cupboard, her cheeks tightening under my gaze. I breathed deeply through my nose and turned away.


I gazed at my flickering reflection in the mirror. “You’re a fool! It’s a mid-life crisis and you’re jumping in with both feet! How stupid are you gonna feel when she slaps you across the face?” I shook my head at myself and turned to the toilet. It was a sublime relief when I released my hard-on from my jeans. I looked down at it, it almost staring back up at me muttering fuck under my breath. Placing my left hand on the cistern I leant forwards at the hips, holding my erection in my other hand trying to coax it downwards towards the bowl. “Come on…” I whispered waiting for my bladder to empty. “Stop being so damned awkward” I said to my cock. After a few more seconds I felt my urine start to rise. Easing my hard-on further downwards trying to allow my water to flow while getting it within the bowl, it seemed to stream for ages and loudly splash even above the drumming of the downpour outside. Eventually I was done and I wiped myself with a tissue and three or four drops which had splashed on the rim. By the light of the candle it seemed that I had at least managed not to miss the target completely.

My penis was only a fraction less hard after relieving it of one cause of my earlier discomfort. I twisted the tap on the sink and splashed some of the cold water over my hot member hoping, vainly as it turned out, to dampen my ardour. I gave up after a minute and dried my defiant appendage before zipping it back inside my jeans, making sure that it was straight up against my lap and comfortable. I inspected my crotch in the mirror, realising fully that my state was fairly obvious. I shook my head at myself in the mirror one last time and headed out the door. I paused in the back room, looking towards the cot; a white pile lay on the floor obvious against the dark wood. Paula’s bra and…? I made one step towards them before I pulled myself up. This was definitely information I didn’t need to know in my present state. I hesitated for another second before turning and heading back into the office.

“Thought I’d lost you there for a minute…” Paula smirked, she twisted on the stool turning away “better now…” I blushed deeply as my mind imagined Paula thinking about my erection, “…more room…” she shifted to the side and I saw a bottle and two shot glasses on the desk. “Drink?” she asked all innocent.

I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to fuck this minx or spank her or both. “Yeah, I reckon so…” I replied. I walked around to the other side of the reception desk and happily stood with my crotch out of Paula’s line of sight. Her eyes dipped and I was sure she knew my reason. I was happier as I picked up a shot glass and offered it to her before lifting the other. I twisted the bottle on the work top and read the label. “Bourbon…? Well, any port in a storm, cheers.” I saluted her and sipped my drink as she sipped hers. I grinned behind my glass as I watched her nostrils flare. “Not your usual tipple?” I asked.

She coughed slightly, “No, I’m more a screw…driver sort of girl.”

I grinned, either I had now managed to pass beyond embarrassment or I was getting use to her wordplay. “I had you down as a cock…tail lover”

Paula ran her tongue across her teeth, “I have been known to down a cock…tail!”

“You like to slam… the odd tequila?”

“Not tequila so much… maybe a Tennessee Cowboy on occasion”

I looked down at the bottle, “Well, you’ve got your lips wrapped around a Missouri boy tonight…” I twisted the bottle about showing the label marked Jesse James Bourbon.

She took another sip, “A little rougher than I’m used to so where do you hail from Stuart?” her eyes flicked to my left hand. I hadn’t realised it but I had been twisting my wedding band about my finger. I stopped as I saw the smile on her face falter.

“I guess about 200 miles further on up this road, Rockville”

“Heading home to the wife?” there seemed a small note of reproach in her voice.

I nodded, “I was till I almost left the hard top a half mile back”

“Any kids?” her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth.

I shook my head, “We haven’t really had the time…”

“In the future…?”

“Possibly…maybe, I guess…” I twisted the top off bottle and topped up our shot glasses. Neither of us picked them up.

“You’re not sure? Sorry! That’s personal… sorry…”

I placed my hand on hers for a second before trying to move it away without making a deal out of it. I failed as we both noted the action and drew our own conclusions from it. “It’s okay… I… how can I put it? They scare me… kids that is… my old man, damn fine husband and father, pretty sure he raised us right. At least none of his kids are in Jail!” the smile briefly flashed back across Paula’s mouth. “He once said to me that it was the bravest thing he ever did”

Paula tilted her head and looked at me quizzically. I grinned broadly and her dark narrow eyebrows rose even further.

“I imagine I had a similar look when he said it to me as well. He went to war, never talked about it except this one time. He did his duty but he never liked it. He said that any fool without fear can run into a fire fight but it takes a scared man to be brave. The thing with kids is that if you are lucky you get given a perfect person an’ all you can do-”

“- is fuck ‘em up!” Paula finished.

“I was going to say damage or break them, but yes…”

We lifted our glasses, chinked them together and downed them in one. Paula topped them up anew.

“What about you?” I asked.

“Not sure about the motherhood thing… not sure I will ever be… I guess something similar to you and… Looking around this world you gotta wonder…”

“A boyfriend…? Or girl, not wanting to stereotype…”

“Boys…” she looked me squarely in the eyes, “or men. No-one… at this moment…” her eyes dropped as she dipped her forefinger into the bourbon in her hand, swirling the amber liquid around the glass. The two of us sat there for a couple of minutes, each of us contemplating our own private thoughts. Mine? Were chaotic to say the least! My heart was hammering in my chest and I had butterflies dancing in my stomach. That teenage feeling was back with a vengeance. Does she like me? Will she love me? Does my breath smell fresh? I barely knew this girl, young woman who had somehow gotten hold of my heart and seemed to be in the process of turning my world upside down. My eyes kept sliding back across the scratched surface of the desk to watch her fingernail still stirring the glass of alcohol. My own fingers gripped my glass hard, the knuckles white as I fought to control my emotions.

It was Paula that broke the spell. She lifted her finger from the glass and sucked the bourbon from it. It wasn’t any sort of seductive ‘come-on’, it was as if she had only just realised her finger had been in the drink and was merely licking it clean. “Are you happily married, Stuart?” her hand dropped back to the glass. It rattled for a moment on the top. Her eyes remained fixed on the slowly calming alcohol.

“I … I am…” I was wondering to myself, before this rainy night I had never considered straying. I looked at the sweets in the jar bit had never dared to taste them. I watched Paula’s lips move soundlessly. I wanted so much to know what she had mouthed but was also terrified of what it might be. “I guess I’d better get some shut eye…”

She sniffed quietly and turned to the peg board on the wall, lifting down the key to room one. “Yes… err… Will room number one be okay, the shortest walk… though of course you can pick whichever one you like seeing as there are no other guests.”

“Number one will be fine… I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then…” Paula turned away. I felt numb as I turned for the door. I realised I didn’t have my overnight bag but I knew that I didn’t want to walk past her to get it. Whatever there was between us, it hurt! Just as I put my hand on the brass handle of the exterior door a quiet hum began and a moment later the overhead fluorescents sparked blindingly into life. I looked upwards, immediately regretting it and quickly closed my eyes. The artificial light still seemed to blaze through my eyelids; I heard Paula curse behind me and figured she was just as dazzled as I.

I slowly turned around, peeking through my eyelashes at the suddenly stark office. Paula was stood, one arm holding the counter, the other covering her eyes. The radio chose that moment to burst into life. The soft voice of a Sixty’s singer crooned out.

You`re good for me, baby, but we met too late
And I`ve got so much love to give…”

My feet began to move as Paula lowered her hand and turned to face me. She looked at me, her eyes sparkling in the bright light and slowly stepped around the counter. I slipped my right arm about her waist, my left around her shoulder as she laid her head against my shoulder. Slowly we moved with the music, our bodies pressed to one another, in a world with a population numbering just the two of us. I felt her fingertips trace across the waistband of my jeans. My cock throbbed and she felt it against her stomach, pulling me tighter in response.

At the end of the song a deep voiced DJ announced the next number. Paula raised her head up and rising on her toes kissed me softly and tenderly on the lips. As she dropped away she stepped back sliding out of my embrace, the only contact remaining between us was the touch of our fingertips. She turned, her hand out behind her, and walked towards the back room. The soft touch of her flesh drew me after her…


I stood, naked, behind the reception desk, the lights now turned off as the bright morning light streamed through the windows. My overnight bag sat open on the time-worn surface as I looked out on the damp, sodden world outside. My notepad lying open and a pen in my hand.  Two words written neatly at the top of the page.

I could feel Paula’s juices dried upon the flesh of my flaccid cock. I could still taste her on my lips and feel the scratches she had left in my shoulders as she had come beneath me. My cock gave an involuntary twitch and I smiled privately to myself as I thought of how tight she had become in the throes of passion. Slowly I felt my member begin to swell, drawing me back to the room behind me and the young naked from within. I had to finish the letter before I would allow myself to climb back into the cot beside the sleeping Paula and maybe, hopefully, begin the rest of my life.

I stared at the two words before me, wondering what to write next.


“Dearest Darling…”


The End


So there you have it dearest Avid Reader. Did you catch onto my inspiration? If you reckon you’re right go here —> and type in your answer as the password.

Here’s a hint… _ _    _ _ _ _ _    _ _ _ _   _ _ _ _ _      (four words,  just so you know, only the last word is capitalized.)


~ by ftfagos on May 12, 2011.

4 Responses to “A Day Away…”

  1. You Bumlicker!!!!!!! I really cannot get over how you seem to excel at the internal dialogues of a character. How when a character internalises to try to convince themselves they are not good enough or too old; me as the reader really gets an inside glimpse. Now the question remains, do you feel that way?

  2. Good enough…not often.
    …never too old.

    Mainly, quite often like that glimpse of teenager!


  3. Ha! Good enough my big toe! I was going for more of a teacherly comment. Not too sure I like it. And yes. I know. this is not a Forum! I shall stop!

  4. […] A story to puzzle over…. […]

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