Message-ID: <25354asstr$963911402@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Path: usenet From: Rick O X-Original-Message-ID: Reply-To: rick_oh@whiteice.com Abuse-Reports-To: abuse at airmail.net to report improper postings Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Cancel-Lock: sha1:uHGRmnGocQWPcRwLnYLejKP4Xb4= X-NFilter: 1.2.0 Subject: {ASSM} Story: Beyond the Crossroads (romance) Date: Tue, 18 Jul 2000 05:10:02 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw, english Story: Beyond the Crossroads (romance) [This story is dedicated to a woman with a brilliant mind (and great legs) who challenged me to write it. I will refer to her as Doll. Doll, you are very special, and this is for you.] Late Friday afternoon. I had finished the two-week stint at the remote customer site and left right after breakfast on the long drive home. I like to drive rather than fly because I had a chance to visit my friend from college for a few days before the remote assignment. Besides, there's this little place just outside of Amarillo that I like to stay at. A peaceful, quiet place. A place to get recharged before going home. Anyhow, there's a diner next to the motel. It's my ideal diner. Small-town feel, no radio or TV. It's surprising all the sounds you can hear when they're not being drowned out by a radio. Such as the gentle whirring of the overhead fans. The conversations back in the kitchen, punctuated with raucous laughter when somebody tells a joke or relates a real-life anecdote on the general foibles of humanity. The metallic clink of freshly washed silverware being placed on the tables. Clean plates being stacked. The hushed conversations of the old-timers and locals. Already I'm feeling better. The lady working the cash register came over to the table with the order pad. "We're short handed today, hon, so I'm waitressing too," she said. "You all decided yet?" "Yeah," I replied, trying to get a glimpse of her name tag. I like to know what name they go by. Sometimes I wonder if the names are made up or if they're real. The tag said TIFF. "The hungry burger with those delicious fries, well done. And, uhhhhh, let's see, I'll stick with the ice water." She wrote a few cryptic notes on her pad. "Tiff," I continued. "Is that for Tiffany?" "Yes," she replied, and tossed her shoulder-length blonde wavy hair to one side and then back in place. I wondered if she ever got tired of answering that question. She paused, fixing her eyes on me, and said, "Say, weren't you here a couple of weeks ago?" "Yup. Was on my way to Tulsa for my job to help a new customer set up some stuff." I locked my gaze on her eyes and held it for an instant longer than I ordinarily would. "Now it's back home in the morning." My eyes focused on her mouth for a couple of seconds. Her lips were relaxed and parted slightly, with the white of her teeth emphasizing her lips' fullness. For an instant it struck me that she had a sensuous mouth. She looked to be, oh, between thirty five and forty. "Where's home?" "Dripping Springs," I said, looking at her mouth again. "A ways to go. You gonna make it in one day?" "Don't know." Tiffany gave the order to the cook, brought the glass of water and waited on some other customers. A few minutes later she brought my burger and went back to her many tasks. While mentally planning my route for the next day, I heard a spirited discussion taking place in the kitchen area. I finished my meal and went over to the register to pay. Tiffany, after a minute or so, came out from the kitchen area and we settled the bill. Rather abruptly, she went back to the kitchen. I went to the washroom for a couple of minutes and then left the diner, walking to the motel right next door. I suddenly jumped when I heard a woman's voice scream, "YOU FUCKING JERK!" Looking back toward the source of the sound I saw Tiffany coming out of the diner, her purse over her shoulder. She turned around and screamed "THAT'S IT! YOU'RE NOT GONNA FUCK ME OVER ANY MORE!" She slammed the screen door and stormed out, an angry expression on her face. I felt rather helpless, and at the same time I knew I had to at least try to do something. Tiffany was briskly walking away from the diner. I trotted over to where she was walking. She startled when she saw me right there and stopped suddenly, staring. "Can I, uh, is... is there anything I can do for you?" I awkwardly inquired. Her face frozen with angry features, she looked me in the eye for a moment, said "No!" and abruptly turned away and continued on. Feeling defeated, I trudged over to my room. Once inside, I brushed my teeth and then opened a book I'd been reading and attempted to take my mind off the scene that had just happened. A few minutes later I heard a knock on the door. I cautiously got up and opened the door just a little. I was surprised to see Tiffany standing there. Before I could react, she said, "I guess I shouldn't have been that way toward you. I was - and am - very upset." "Uh, why don't you come in..." I offered. "Are you by yourself?" "Yes." She made her way inside the room and closed and locked the door. "I quit there today," she stated, then laughed at the nature of the understatement. "The guy that runs that place, I've been living with him... until now." "Where were you going?" I asked. "He thinks I'm going to my sister's. He'll get drunk when he goes home tonight, and then tomorrow afternoon he'll call over at my sister's and tell her to bring me to work. But like I said, I don't work there any more. He just doesn't know it yet." Tiffany walked over to a guest chair by a little round table and sat down. She was still wearing her uniform, which consisted of a short-sleeved knee-length white dress. And of course she was still wearing her name tag. She put her knees together and her feet several inches apart. "What's your name, cowboy?" Tiffany asked. "Cowboy?" I asked, looking at her with a puzzled expression. "You're the type," she explained. "The strong silent type. A man of few words. Kind of a loner. Still waters run deep, you know." Tiffany's full lips broke into a broad smile. I realized that I had not seen her smile before. "Back to my question. What's your name?" "Rick." "My, you're talkative," she teased. "What are your plans now, Tiffany?" I asked, ignoring her teasing. "Oh, I may end up at my sister's," she cryptically replied. "Do you want me to drive you over there?" I offered. "Maybe later. I would like to go somewhere else. Would you take me there?" I thought it odd that she didn't specify where she wanted to go, and still asked me to take her. When I agreed, she stood up and went over to the door. I opened the door for her, we left the room, and went to the car. The sun was casting long shadows. "Go down the highway for a little bit," she said, pointing the direction. A couple of minutes later she said, "Turn here." We then crossed a creek and turned down a street that paralleled the railroad tracks. I looked at her questioningly when we reached the road's dead end by what appeared to be an old railyard with a couple of abandoned boxcars on a separate set of tracks. "Let's get out now," she said. After I locked the car she added, "Sometimes I like to come here when I want to be alone and just walk around. Let's walk over there by the tracks." The late afternoon sun was casting a reddish-orange glow on everything around us. In the distance the telephone poles extended endlessly westward along the railroad tracks. We trudged along silently except for the sound of our footsteps on the dirt and the gravel. After we had walked for a few minutes we turned around and headed back. Neither of us had said anything. As we got closer to the car she divulged, "I want to go in that boxcar." Now I don't know all the names of train parts, so I'll just say that she loosened some kind of latch and asked me to open the freight door. Tiffany suggested that I go up into the boxcar first and then help her up. After entering the boxcar I reached down with one hand and grasped her hand as she climbed in. She did not let go of my hand. Her eyes were sparkling now. Tiffany said, "I've always had a fascination for train cars." We walked around inside the freight car and looked around. "It strikes me as romantic," she continued. She stepped in front of me and, facing me, looked up and closed her eyes. The soft light of the setting sun enlivened her features. Gently cradling her face with my hands, I lightly kissed her full pouty lips. She responded with some delicious kisses and then opened her eyes. "We'd better go," she said. We walked silently to the car. "Where is your sister's from here?" I asked. "I need to call her first," she replied. "Can I do that from your room?" I nodded and drove to where I was staying. I got some ice from the machine while Tiffany used the phone. When I came back to the room, Tiffany went into the bathroom and closed the door. I heard some water running for a minute or two, and then I heard her voice. "I'm going to take a shower, okay?" she asked. I looked up from my book to answer her and the shock must have registered on my face. She had taken all her clothes off and was holding a large towel around herself. She walked over to where I was and let the towel drop to the floor. "Take a shower with me?" she squeaked. I quickly got up and caressed her by the shoulders and drew her close to me. Her jaw was quivering with excitement and trepidation. She unbuttoned my shirt and undid my jeans. I threw off my shirt and stepped out of my clothes. As she adjusted the shower, Tiffany turned her head and looked back at me for a moment with a broad smile. When the water was adjusted to her satisfaction she stepped into the shower and I followed her. She drenched herself first, then moved over so I could get wet. After the shower got me wet all over, I adjusted the water temperature so that the spray was a little cooler. "Auuuugh!" Tiffany cried, while I grinned and pulled her close so that we were both getting wet at the same time. With the shower raining down on both of us, I opened my mouth to catch some of the drops on my tongue. Tiffany giggled and did the same. We then exchanged passionate kisses underneath the shower spray. The water appeared to put life into her. She looked gorgeous even with wet stringy hair. Her eyes gleamed. We each soaped down the other one. She appeared to enjoy handling my turgid member and testicles with her soapy hands. I rather enjoyed that too. There was the permeating scent of "motel soap". I have always regarded that scent as somewhat sexy, in a way that I can not yet explain. After we dried off we turned all the lights off and got on top of the bed. Tiffany grasped my raging member with one hand, and spread her legs apart just a little. She gasped as I easily entered her. I held her so that we were cheek-to-cheek, and her mouth was next to my ear. In the darkness I heard every breath she drew. Her sensual cries drove me to thrusting longer and harder. "Oh'... aaaahhhhhh! (pant) Ohhhhhhhh! (pant) (gasp) ah'ahhh... ohhhhh!" she moaned. When I could no longer hold back, I placed my mouth over hers in an impassioned kiss, and spurted hot jets of semen into her long-neglected body while she urgently moaned, "Mmmmmmmmm! mm! mmmmmmm!" Tiffany's body trembled for several seconds, then she relaxed, breathing heavily. We both fell asleep in a matter of minutes. During the night I awoke to the gentle sound of Tiffany's breathing. She was laying on her side, facing away from me. I felt the stirring of desire again and gently reached around her and ran my fingers across her skin. She stirred and rolled over on her tummy. Putting my hand between her legs, I found that she was damp. I threw off the covers and straddled her as she lay face down. Tiffany was barely awake when I entered her. Still face down, she stretched out her arms to grab hold of the edge of the mattress for stability while I repeatedly drove my hard erection into her pussy. Her gasps and groans penetrated the darkness of the room, while the bed squeaked with each thrust. I varied the pace of my thrusting for about fifteen to twenty minutes. while I was still straddling her, Tiffany jutted her rear end out and I began to pound harder. She quickly drew in her breath, held it a few seconds, and trembled with release. I kept pounding while about once a minute she'd shudder, sometimes crying out, other times holding her breath or gasping. After several minutes of this I knew I couldn't hang on much longer, so I went from a straddling position to laying on top of her. The sensual feel of her legs against mine, and the sight of her disheveled hair as I drove into her wet pussy, sent me over the edge. Exclaiming aloud, I writhed in sweet ecstasy as my juices were injected inside her. We lay there panting for a while before drifting off to sleep for the rest of the night. When I awoke I washed up and brushed my teeth and started packing. Tiffany groggily roused herself out of bed, almost staggering to the bathroom. I had to chuckle at her sleepy eyes and down turned mouth. She washed up, brushed her teeth with my toothbrush, straightened up her hair, and dressed in yesterday's clothes. I packed the last of my things while Tiffany sat on the bed waiting. "Well, what next?" I inquired, wondering what plans Tiffany had made about staying with her sister. She walked over to me, put her hands up on my shoulders, looked into my eyes and whispered, "Dripping Springs." Surprise registering on my face, I stared at her for a few seconds, then grabbed her and brusquely squeezed her close. She smiled broadly. "What about your sister?" I asked. "I told her that I was leaving the jerk, and I didn't want her to know where I was, and that I would be safe." "Don't you have any things that you need to take?" She slowly shook her head. "Anything else will just be a burden. I've got to get away from here. Let's get something to eat. I'm starved after all that, you know..." "Sure," I agreed. "Let's get something at the diner," I teased. "Bastard," she said, trying to keep from laughing at the irony. We went back into town and stopped at a Denny's for breakfast, and started on our journey to Dripping Springs. We drove pretty much all day, sometimes talking about anything and everything, and sometimes spending time being totally quiet. We drove with clear skies, cloudy areas, some miles of rain. Once we drove through a small town and nearby a railyard, and Tiffany mentioned that sometime she'd like to "do it" inside a boxcar. It was late afternoon when we got to my house in Dripping Springs. There was a torrential rain coming down in the entire area. After bringing the luggage in the house, I walked from room to room to make sure that everything was okay. When I walked out from the master bedroom I noticed Tiffany outside in the back yard, standing in the downpour, getting totally drenched. Her hair and face were soaked, as well as her white dress from the diner. I ran outside and yelled "Tiffany!" She turned around and broke into a wide grin and spread her arms wide. I then ran over to her and she threw her arms around me. I hungrily kissed her while feeling the rain pelt me with large driving drops. I reached under Tiffany's dress and grabbed her panties, and to this day I don't know what made me tear the waistband of her panties and rip them off her. She didn't appear to mind. When I tossed her torn panties across the yard, I pulled her down so that we were prone on the grass, with Tiffany on top of me. The rain was still pouring down in torrents, and after more hungry kisses, Tiffany undid my jeans and tugged them down halfway to my knees. Straddling me, she impaled herself on my rigid member and started to ride me like the driving force of the wind and rain. Momentarily I recalled a line from the song "Cowgirl's Prayer" which goes, "And she binds herself to her galloping steed, and he binds himself to the woman he needs..." "Tiffany, slow down, I can't... Aaaarghhhh!" My ejaculation pulsed inside of her as she opened her mouth wide in a silent outcry of ecstasy, with eyes closed and her face looking up to the heavens that were drenching us. I felt, and saw, the shuddering of this alluring woman. With me still inside her, and the swirls of rain still flowing from the powerful skies, she bent down and whispered, "You owe me some new panties, Rick." I said to myself, Tiffany, I owe you a lot more than that. - end - I hope you enjoy this story. I enjoyed writing it. This work is copyright by the author. Commercial use is prohibited without permission. 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