Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
I giggle as I take a long swig of the juice and seltzer mixture. “I can’t believe I serviced two guys at once.” Just as quickly, I blush crimson, imagining what it would be like to have those two guys service me at the same time. That would be amazing. How would I even handle it?
I wonder if I can tell Juniper. She’d be the only person I’d trust with such a naughty fantasy. Besides, she’s in a threesome relationship herself, so she’d know exactly how the mechanics work, and what goes where when. My friend is probably the queen of polyamorous scenes, seeing that she’s been knocked up with four babies.
But almost immediately, I realize that this has to be my little secret. Giving blowjobs to two complete strangers in the middle of the night in a town I know nothing about is reckless and certainly questionable behavior.
Then why did it feel so good?
I grapple with this thought as I mix another beverage. Outside, crickets begin to chirp as the sun lowers in the sky.
Something about the two men was immediately intoxicating, and I don’t think it was because I was tipsy from my time at the bar. They were attractive, sure. Easily the most attractive men I have ever seen. But it was more than sheer good looks. They weren’t pushy but there was a commanding aura about them. Plus, they were into it and not just because I was getting them off, but because these men appreciate a woman who enjoys herself.
I shake my head.
“You’re not going to see them again, Bess,” I tell myself sharply and take a long drink of my orange juice. At this point, I’m so overheated I wonder if I should start sucking ice cubes to cool down. But who am I kidding? I’m a single woman watching soap operas while dreaming of two nameless strangers. It’s a pathetic scene in its own right.
Sighing, I turn my attention back to the show playing out on screen in front of me, but even the melodrama isn’t enough to distract me from my intense restlessness. I start pacing around the room, taking sips of my drink between steps. Pausing at the window, I look out onto the gorgeous Wyoming mountains spread across the horizon. They are majestic, and I love the pretty shades of gold and pink and red, mixed with the bluish-purple of the hills themselves.
My eyes find the road that leads in the direction into town. What would it be like to be a solitary traveler? A cowgirl out to explore the gorgeous offerings of nature?
I look around the small, plain room, and it feels like the walls are shrinking around me. Suddenly determined to get as far away as possible from this oppressive hotel, I click the TV off and grab my car keys.
Pitying yourself isn’t going to get you anywhere, I tell myself firmly while making my way to the parking lot. Fortunately, my car awaits, ready for a drive. I climb into the vehicle and roll down every window, before pulling out of the hotel parking lot. Now this is the life. The breeze ruffles my curls and I smile, already feeling more lighthearted. See? Life isn’t so bad. Then, I randomly turn left and decide to head to the outskirts of town. Who knows what will happen? This is a time to explore.
Once the drive gets underway, I turn on the radio and crank up a twangy country song. It’s not something I’d normally listen to, but the upbeat female singer is crooning along about her independence and a carefree life on the road. Perfect. I sing along, my hair fluttering in the wind as I step on the gas.
I have no idea where I’m going, but I have a full tank of gas, a lovely sunset ahead, and my radio for companionship. And for the first time in a while, I realize that I’m happy out here in the middle of Nowhere, Wyoming. This is truly the American life.
No wonder Juniper found her bliss in this remote area.
I weave my way across the flat land, creeping above the speed limit just a tiny bit. It’s dusty this far out of town, and I rev the engine even more to kick up a storm on the road. It feels like a movie almost, as if I’m cruising down Route 88 and flying to freedom. An old country ballad comes on the radio and I crank the volume up even higher, singing at the top of my lungs now.
Just as I’m really getting into the melody with its dum-dum-dums, a flashing light catches my eye. Oh no. A glance in the rearview mirror shows me what I dread most: a police cruiser trailing behind me, signaling for me to pull over.