The fancy electronics they used to predict the weather had nothing on good old-fashioned experience and I knew we were looking at a rough few days—that would be the best-case scenario. If I didn’t trust my own judgment, the fact that the locals were busy clearing out the shelves was proof enough. I was overly cautious sometimes, but when the poorest residents on the mountain were grabbing premium bread because the generic brand was sold out, it was cause for concern. I had no reason to panic, I just simply got the stuff I needed and loaded them into my truck. Everyone was nice even enough, even if their accents were as Tennessee as they could be.
“Only one bottle?” Mr. Blanchard stared at the bottle of whiskey on the counter in front of him and then lifted his eyes to meet mine.
“Do you think I should go for two?” His stare was less than subtle, so I made the decision in my mind before he confirmed it.
“I would go for three—of the big bottles.” He pointed at the rack of whiskey and moved his finger towards the largest one they had. “I got those cigars you wanted as well.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you, Mr. Blanchard.” I picked up the bottle on the counter and walked back to the display. I traded it for the larger bottle and gathered three more in my arms.
My total flashed across the screen and I handed him some cash. I trusted Mr. Blanchard more than I trusted most folks. He wasn’t the type to push sales on anyone, so if he said I needed three, I probably needed four. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck in a snowstorm without booze. It wasn’t like I had anything else to entertain myself with.
Fuck that.
I finished loading my truck with the things I needed to survive and partially enjoy the damn storm. I looked around the sleepy town, bustling with more activity than I normally saw there when it wasn’t tourist season. I was ready to go home and crack open a bottle of whiskey, but I was hungry. I decided to walk across the street to the local diner for a late lunch. Even with all the activity in the town, it didn’t seem like anyone was eating there. I walked inside and surveyed the empty room. It didn’t take long for Mrs. Eaton to appear around the corner and wave for me to take a seat.
“Shane! It’s so good to see you. Let me get you a glass of sweet tea.” She smiled and then rushed over to the fridge.
“Thank you, Mrs. Eaton. Are you all set for the storm?” I sat down at one of the chairs in front of the long bar which was adorned with glass covered cylinders filled with cakes and pies.
“Yeah, Hank has boarded up the windows and fired up the generator. I’ll be heading home when the first flake starts falling.” She poured a glass of sweet tea and pushed it over to me. They had the best sweet tea I had ever tasted and I had no idea how the people who drank it every day weren’t already diabetic.
“Are you two going to make a snow baby?” I grinned at her and winked.
“Oh my.” She giggled and her tired wrinkly face started to blush. “I won’t be making any more babies, but I told Hank to refill his Viagra.”
“He’s a lucky man.” I sipped the sweet tea again.
“You just got yourself a free slice of pie. Keep those compliments coming and you might even get free refills.” She picked up a menu and leaned over the bar.
“If I keep it up, I might have to steal you away and take you home with me for the storm.” I took the menu from her.
“You need to come around here more, Shane. Everyone in town is so…into Jesus.” A cackle rose up in her throat and shook her head.
“I’m not really friends with him, so I don’t have to watch what I say.” I pointed at the Country Fried Steak. “You know what I want.”
“Yep, it’s always the same. Extra gravy and mashed potatoes?” It was rhetorical since I hadn’t changed my order once since I started coming in there.
“Yes ma’am.” I nodded.
Country Fried Steak covered in her delicious gravy was one of my favorite meals. I had enough food on my shelves and in my freezer to last the entire winter, but my sweet tea was terrible and my gravy was barely more than liquid slop. Since I couldn’t make those, it was nothing more than a waste of time to sludge through the ordeal of making Country Fried Steak. Normally I just threw a piece of meat on the grill and ate it with fresh vegetables from the garden—during the winter, I just ate the extra stuff I had canned.
It took a while for Mrs. Eaton to get everything prepared since Hank wasn’t there to help her, but it was amazing when she finally did get it finished. Adding the pie on top of the sweet tea was an overdose of sugar, but I couldn’t turn it down since it was free.
“You stay warm.” I dropped some cash, along with a tip that was almost double the cost of my meal next to my plate. “Tell Hank I’m coming for you if he doesn’t treat you right.”
“He’ll probably tell me to pack my shit.” She laughed as she picked up my plate. “You still haven’t kidnapped a hiker or clubbed a tourist so you have someone to keep you warm?”
“Not yet, but tourist season will be here soon.” I winked at her and walked out of the restaurant.
With my belly fuller than it had been in a long time, I climbed back into my truck and set out for the edge of town and the long stretch of road that led up the mountain to my cabin with one thing on my mind…
Time to drink my way through this fucking storm.
I LOVED HAVING A CABIN that was out of the way and tucked into the mountains, but close enough to get back and forth to town when the situation called for it. I pressed on the gas and let my hand rest on the wheel. It was getting colder, but it would be a few hours before the snow started to fall. I looked ahead and saw a red sedan driving well below the speed limit in the slow lane. I wasn’t in the mood to go slow, so I hit the accelerator and pulled into the passing lane. I saw a glimpse of blonde hair hanging around a gorgeous face.
“Oh, what do we have here?” I looked to my right as I accelerated and narrowed my eyes to get a better look at her.
It was rare to see a young, beautiful girl in Wolf Creek, so I couldn’t help but take notice. Wolf Creek was a dying community and most of the younger people had moved away. Even with a few years of my thirties behind me, I was still one of the youngest residents. They had welcomed me, mostly because I flirted with the older women and made their husbands jealous. They knew I wasn’t serious, and I’m sure I caused a few of the men to get some enthusiastic sex after I complimented their women. Hank might even need two pills when Mrs. Blanchard got home.
There was enough tourism to keep the retirees afloat, especially in the winter months. I assumed the blonde goddess struggling with her electronic devices was on vacation. I could tell by the frustration on her face that she was not getting what she wanted out of them. It was early in the year for tourism since we hadn’t received even a hint of snow, but based on her age, it made sense.
Keep it up, princess. Frustration looks great on you.
Wolf Creek didn’t exactly have the best reception for modern technology. Cell phones were less popular than land lines and the towers were pretty far away. It was like driving into a technological black hole for most people. The sheriff usually stayed busy during the vacation months, helping those that got lost on the way to their destination because they couldn’t read a fucking map.
I knew the mountains like the back of my hand, along with every back road and well-worn trail. I let my truck keep the same speed as her sedan for several miles, but she never looked over. She was entranced by her devices, which clearly weren’t working. All of her flailing was enough for me to get a damn good view of her and I sure as fuck liked what I saw. It was a shame I couldn’t just run her off the road and kidnap her like Mrs. Blanchard jokingly suggested.
“So pretty.” I muttered. “I’ll be thinking about you tonight—especially those tits.”
I hit the gas and passed her, keeping her car in the rear-view mirror for a little while. Laying eyes on the blonde goddess snapped reality back to my cock and it gave me a throbbing sensation against my zipper
to remind me how long it had been since I used it to pound a beautiful piece of ass.
Fuck. I probably would bury it in Mrs. Blanchard at this point…
Retiring at a young age and leaving the world behind for the solitude of the mountains had some negatives. It wasn’t like the local bars were going to offer me anything worth fucking except for the occasional tourist, but they were usually there with a boyfriend or a husband. The single girls usually traveled in packs and there were usually a few guys with them, even if they weren’t actively dating. The blonde in the red sedan was an anomaly, but she was likely headed to meet friends.
As I neared my turn, I noticed she had disappeared in the rear-view. I slowed down to wait, just to make sure she didn’t do what I thought she did. When her car didn’t appear on the horizon, I realized she had turned down Devil’s Pass. None of the locals used that road and there were no vacation cabins anywhere near it. It was originally planned to be an interstate route, but some rich asshole convinced them to run it through a town fifty miles away so it would be closer to his hotels.
“Good luck, blonde goddess. I hope you don’t get eaten by wolves—unless they save the good parts for me.” I laughed and headed up the mountain to my cabin.
I doubted she would continue down the stretch of road for long. Even with the technological black hole we were in, she would have to realize the road wasn’t taking her anywhere. Either way, she wasn’t my problem.
I got the visual. That’s good enough for tonight.
The storm was coming and I had things to do before I was ready to weather it. I pulled my truck up to the front of my cabin and immediately attached my snow chains. If there was a reason to go, it would be easier to do that if they were already on the tires. Once that was done, I boarded the windows, got a fire going in the fireplace, set up my backup generator, and made sure the fuel was filled.
Perfect.
The fire would be enough to keep me warm, especially with the amount of wood I had, but I didn’t want to take any chances. The locals still talked about the storm that came through in the 1950s when the weatherman predicted a light dusting, but instead the area got a blizzard of epic proportions that shut things down for weeks. Unfortunately, some people froze to death before it was over. I had enough supplies to last for months, so that wasn’t going to be an issue. If there was one thing the corporate world taught me before I left it all behind, it was to prepare for the unexpected.
“Okay…” I looked around the cabin with a satisfied smile. “Time for a drink.”
I filled my favorite glass and lifted one of the cigars to my nose, inhaling the pleasant aroma of a plantation somewhere in South America that didn’t even know what snow was. I sat down in my chair and sipped whiskey while the first sounds of the storm really started to hit the side of the mountain. It already sounded worse than predicted.
I lit the end of my cigar and let the smoke seep out of the edge of my lips. I had everything I needed, except a good set of lips around my cock or a tight pussy in my lap. Women were just more trouble than they were worth. I had one once—a damn good one—or so I thought. I lifted my glass angrily to her memory.
Here’s to you, bitch. This place is perfect because you’re not here.
She was gorgeous with an ass I could stare at for hours, but I rarely took time to stare. Usually I was fucking something—mouth, pussy, ass—I didn’t care. I loved everything about her, from the way she enthusiastically swallowed my cock, to her insatiable appetite for taking it in every damn hole.
We were young and stupid. We liked fucking each other so much we thought that was worth marrying over and as fun as it was, it was the only thing we really had in common. She was a spoiled brat who thought she should have everything she wanted and I ran a minimalist, frugal household dedicated to saving and preparing for the future.
Fuck being responsible, right?
My dream was to retire to a nice cabin in the woods and live off the land. Her dream was to build a mansion and hire people to do everything for her—just like she had growing up. The company I was working for required a lot of extra time and she hated that, until it took off and my stocks were worth more than her Daddy’s fortune.
She hit me with the divorce papers the minute I told her I wasn’t interested in building her dream house because I didn’t want to waste money when we had all we needed in our tiny two-bedroom home. Fifty percent wasn’t enough to break my wallet, but it was enough to break my spirit. It crushed every bit of trust I had for members of the opposite sex.
A few months later I saw her out with another man—a man I once called a friend—and I lost it. My ex-wife and I started yelling at each other in the middle of the restaurant, laying out everything we hated about each other. Somewhere in there, she confessed she had been sleeping with him during our marriage. All I could see was red. I took a swing at him and while I connected with his jaw, he acted like I had just broke his neck. He played it up like a bitch, falling on the floor, wailing, and when the doctors got done with him, he had conditions I had never heard of. It was bad enough that I lost my cool and punched him—I found I didn’t like that side of myself, with rage and jealousy coming out in the form of a monster who lost control.
When my lawyer started talking legitimate jail time, over a punch that barely connected, I knew I was about to be railroaded by a system I didn’t trust. I packed everything in the back of my truck and left. As much as they might have wanted to prosecute me, they weren’t going to chase me across the country for an assault charge when the case was shit to begin with.
“Fuck people…” I muttered as I stared at the burning tip of my cigar.
I didn’t like thinking about that shit. I was happy in my new life. I retired early and my dream came true. I was living off the land and didn’t have to worry about anything. I pushed the anger of my ex-wife’s betrayal out of my head and started thinking about the blonde goddess I saw on the road. I might not be able to fuck her, but I could do a lot of things to her in my head.
My hand slid down to my cock and I caressed it through my jeans. It was more than ready for a little bit of fun. I slid my boots off and then tossed my clothes on the floor by the fire. They would be nice and toasty if I got cold again.
I took another sip of my whiskey and caught a glimpse of my naked body in a mirror. Six years in the mountains had transformed my body. I was no longer thin and athletic. My muscles had grown and hardened over the years, especially my upper torso. As well defined as they were, there was one muscle that needed a real workout, so I sat down in the chair and let my cigar rest in my lips.
I knew it wasn’t going to be a marathon when I wrapped my hand around my cock. The sensitivity reminded me of my teenage years when I barely had to touch it to get off.
“Damn that feels good…” I muttered as I gave myself a few strokes.
I always preferred the real thing over jacking off, but I had to do it from time to time just to keep myself from going insane. Even after six years alone, it still didn’t make me cum like a nice tight pussy, but it was enough when I thought about the baggage that came with an actual relationship.
Just a quick release—then I can drink in peace.
I puffed on my cigar, stroking my cock with my eyes closed. The image of the blonde goddess filled my thoughts and I imagined her there in front of me, ready and willing to bend both knees and wrap those gorgeous lips around throbbing cock. That would just be the beginning, of course, because I would fuck her like she had never been fucked before.
Every hole. All mine.
It was nice to have a face to go with my fantasy for a change. Normally it was just a faceless wonder with big tits, a nice ass, and a soft mouth. I hated that I hadn’t seen the blonde goddess’s eyes; I would have loved to know what shade of perfect I would have been staring into when I made her cum.
I lasted longer than I thought I would, but there wasn’t much build. When it was ready, the pre-cum was already erupting so I had t
o quickly grab a towel for the finish. It was a lot of cum. The reserves hadn’t been emptied in a while. I stared at the mess and sighed at the sight of it on the towel when it could have been inside of someone who would have enjoyed it.
“Oh man…” I shook my head. “What a waste.”
I continued drinking and enjoying my cigar until the latter was burned out and the former needed a refill. I flipped on the television and surfed the channels, finding the weatherman rapidly filling the audience in on how off his prediction was. It was going to be a real storm after all—even he had to admit his fucking mistake.
I went back to my chair and watched for a little while longer before deciding it was time to retire for the evening. I filled the fireplace up with enough wood to last the night and walked into the bedroom, feeling a heaviness in my eyelids as I stared at the bed. As much as I liked the peace and quiet, there was something about the city I missed, and that was the dull roar when I went to sleep.
I could go all day without hearing a single sound except nature’s song, but when it was time to sleep, I would roll around for hours if I didn’t have something in the background. I flipped on the radio and climbed into bed. It would give me enough meaningless noise to go to sleep. It took one hell of an antenna pyramid to get good stations, but it was worth the cost. I felt my eyelids growing heavier and heavier as the music played, and then a commercial came on, followed by some local news.
“Authorities are still searching for missing nineteen-year-old Heather Westbrook. The Tennessee native was supposed to be meeting friends at a cabin near Lake Rutherford, but she never arrived. Authorities are asking everyone in the area to be on the lookout for a 2014 burgundy Volvo with Tennessee plates… Ms. Westbrook is 5’6 with blonde hair and green eyes…”
Mr. B.F.D.: Single Dad & Virgin Romance Page 10