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The plume of dust was slowly moving towards us, likely just under a mile away at this point. The dust that had been disturbed from the hard track first was drifting gently to the south in the late afternoon air, blending into the harsh heat. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, but that was normal. Across the valley floor you could just make out the resort community in the slightly cooler shade of the mountain range but here on this side we got the full brunt of the sun. Once night fell, the twinkling lights around the valley would blend into the stars.
I was currently standing on the slab entrance to my house, perched near the top of one of the many hills on the east side of the valley. The hills were rocky and craggy, the locals called them mountains. But the height of these so-called mountains compared to the breadth of the valley gave me the feeling I was standing on on the first bleacher row at a football field.
The house itself was odd, we didn’t build it but it was new. A series of flat rectangles jutting out of the landscape, the roof line extending well beyond the massive windows in order to keep the direct sun from coming inside. Entirely off the grid, it had a massive solar array about 100 yards to the north and a well that ran deep enough to make me wonder if there was magma not much further. Long ago, I had bought some crypto when it was first a thing on the advice of one of my clients. Promptly forgot about it and then 15 years later I was retired from corporate life, my kids were at the schools of their dreams, and I owned 40 acres of chaparral on the edge of one of the most unforgiving deserts in North America. This wasn’t even our primary residence but we spent a good chunk of time here.
“Better than a doorbell,” my wife remarked looking at the plume of dust with me. By now it had closed half the distance to us and we could see the glint of sun reflecting off the windshield of the source of this disturbance.
“Who is this again?”
“A woman I met at the educators conference last summer and kept in touch with. She’s a geologist and has something like three best sellers.” She paused, “she is on her way to a project site deep in the mountains and needed a place to stay for the night since it’s like 15hr drive from the airport.”
I pondered that while the car began its final climb up the driveway. It revealed itself from the dust as a large black SUV. My wife waved at the vehicle, “see if she needs help with her bag, I’ll go make some lemonade.”
As the dust settled, I walked down the massive stone plates that made the walkway. The door opened and a woman got out and looked around at the view. She did not look like any stereotype of a geologist. Shoulder-length wavy blond hair that seemed closer to a Hollywood movie star of days long past than a published scientist. She had a loose white top, casually unbuttoned down her cleavage and was wearing a short tan skirt with large movie-star sunglasses. She had the air of someone who had spent the last 5 hours in 60 degree air conditioning and was rapidly coming to terms with the blast furnace she was now suddenly in.
As I came around the car, her hand was on her forehead as she acclimated.
“You must be Dr. Taylor.”
More of a statement than a question. She turned and looked at me without moving her hand from her head. Then flashed a megawatt smile, “just call me Hillary, please.”
“Ok Hillary please, I’m Derek” and I extended my hand, “welcome to the desert”
She took my hand, still smiling, and said, “Nice to meet you Bob.”
I know she heard me, the only sounds here were the faint hum of a generator and the sound of the sun frying anything living. Lame joke met with a lamer one, someone who could sink to my level. Could be worse.
“Do you need help with your bag?”
She walked to the back of the SUV and lifted the gate, it was filled to the brim with pelican crates and one tiny wheel-a-board suitcase. She handed that to me, and grabbed a backpack from the front seat. “The rest is new equipment for the site. But here, I brought some wine from Spain,” she said flashing her smile again.
I regarded the bottle she handed me and I gestured, “Thank Escort you! Let’s head on in then, I’ll show you around.” She marched up the slab steps and I was perfectly positioned to admire her long tan legs disappearing into the skirt. She stopped at the patio level and stepped aside so I could lead her inside. The interior was cool, dark, and a welcome contrast. We were well insulated from the desert in here. My wife had set out a tray of drinks and was working on dinner.
After Hillary got settled, we all went out to the back patio to catch up. The patio was in the shade at this time of day, a long narrow pool angled off to the side, and we had a few fans gently running from the overhang. It was easily 15 degrees cooler on this side of the house and while still hot, this was my favorite spot.
We all traded stories, while not in the same field, plenty of common ground around running research, inept administrators, and green students trying to make a mark–all similar to my corporate life, just with smaller budgets. Hillary had been all over, working in Appalachia, the Alps, and Patagonia. “Quite a range,” she said with a twinkle in her eye as if she just came up with that joke. I laughed, clearly we were on the same level of humor.
But she spent the most time telling us of her latest trip to Eastern Africa, she was working at a campsite when a gazelle had come crashing in, as if seeking refuge in the late afternoon. At first, they weren’t concerned even though wildlife rarely ventured that close to a loud human camp but then lioness came flying in after the gazelle and attacked, catching the gazelle against a tent wall. The tent fell down on them but the lioness proceeded to kill the gazelle right in front of the horrified group.
“The team was completely shocked. Our local staff were grabbing rifles, ready to shoot the lioness, but I asked them to stand down. It was just nature playing out. Nothing was harming us in anyway. After a few moments, the lion dragged the carcass into the brush and it was over. We had a large mess to clean but no one was harmed.”
My wife and I were transfixed with her retelling of this event, it being nothing like anything we had experienced. After a few minutes, my wife picked up her drink and said, “I’ll go finished setting up dinner, although I’m not sure I can eat the steak now,” she laughed. We all laughed.
Hillary and I were left alone in the silence of the waning heat, a gentle breeze was kicking up from the valley floor and sliding through the purposefully designed gaps in the rectangular buildings.
The low slung lounge chairs on the patio while comfortable were not at all designed for someone wearing a skirt. I stole a glance at Hillary as I sipped my drink, her legs were apart casually and I could see a flash of her panties. A lovely white greeted my eyes, matching her top.
When I looked up, Hillary was watching me. A grin spread across her face as I reddened. She sipped her wine and widened her legs a touch. She tried asking me about what I did for fun in early retirement. I’m sure I said something about writing and astronomy. But I was hooked on what I had seen, I let my eyes drift back and was rewarded with a better view. I could make out the tiny gusset making the very bottom of her panties opaque as they folded into the crack of her ass.
I had to adjust myself, my cock betraying me by tenting my shorts. Hillary smiled knowingly and wagged her knees as if to fan herself in the heat but just increasing the range of view for me.
My wife leaned out the door. Since she was standing behind Hillary, she couldn’t see her skirt was open for me.
“Dinner is ready.” She paused, “You should come in, it’s nice.”
I looked once more at Hillary’s panties and said wryly, “I would like that very much.” Hillary stood up slowly, checked the seat for something, untucked her top to pull it down over her hips, and then winked at me. As I walked by the vacated chair, I could see a small damp spot. I was also tugging my shirt down to mask my massive erection. Quite a pair of guilty adults we made.
Dinner past without too much disturbance. At least if you don’t count Hillary’s Escort Bayan bare foot lazily tracing my calf under the table the entire time. This had risen my cock about as much as it could handle and I had developed a sizable wet spot in my shorts from precum. Again, I was thankful for the long tail of my shirt when I cleared the table. After dinner, Hillary and my wife lapsed into very detailed work topics so I excused myself and I went for a swim in the lit pool. The thin desert air rapidly cooling to something less than egg-frying temps. The pool was a nice comfortable temp and with zero light pollution I floated and watched the stars rotating around my head.
I had been long asleep in bed when in the early hours of the morning, I woke with a start. Once you have kids, you develop a radar for someone standing next to you. Despite my kids being in college and that not happening since long before that, I knew I wasn’t alone. I looked to my right and saw the familiar form of my wife’s hips and shoulders in the moonlight. I relaxed a bit but then realized it was Hillary who had triggered my alarm by standing next to the bed in a very short robe.
She put a finger to my lips and with a glance at my wife, gently slid the lightweight sheet back and my boxers down. My cock was soft but stirring as it got a hint of what was happening. Hillary then carefully climbed up on the bed and grabbed me with expert fingers, her other hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she propping herself up on her elbows.
I watched, stunned, and checked to see if my wife was disturbed. She seemed to be breathing rhythmically with a slight heavy exhale. Loud but not really a snore. I looked back at Hillary between my legs and saw her eyes sparkle in the moonlight as she slowly rubbed the head of my cock on her lips. It felt like an angel touching me with her wings and my cock came to full attention.
While locking eyes with me, she gently kissed my cock up and down, and periodically would hook her upper lip over the head while she licked the frenulum and teased it with her lower lip. I ran my hands through her hair and she took my whole length in her mouth letting her lips apply some suction on the base. This was incredibly gentle, amazing, but teasing. I tried to buck in order to speed up but she firmly pressed my hips down. It was clear she was in control.
I laid back and watched, occasionally steeling a glance to make sure my wife was sleeping. I closed my eyes and focused on the swirling sensations and I felt like I was drifting in the stars. She stopped after a few minutes and I looked down at her, her hair glowed in the moonlight.
She slowly and carefully like a cat, crawled her way up to me and laid by my side so my frame created a shadow over her from my wife, who seemed to be sleeping undisturbed. Her robe had opened and my hand gently explored down from her neck, across the curve of her breasts and her stiff nipples to down between her legs. She was positively dripping in anticipation. I kissed her quietly, feeling the slickness of her saliva and my precum on her luscious lips. My hand gently cupped her mound and she purred into my ear.
Again, with an absolute economy of movement, she shouldered herself under me, making me roll on top. One of her legs spreading out under me and the other hooking over the back of my knees. We both looked to see if we were causing any disturbances and satisfied, I slowly slipped my cock into her awaiting pussy. My cock was slick with saliva and her pussy was waiting and wet. I stifled a moan by burying my face into her shoulder. She arched her back to press against me. Her hands gently raking down my back as we made the quietest of movements together. Her pussy seeming like it needed me deeper and deeper, and me obliging with slow strong thrusts, pausing when I was in all the way before starting the journey anew.
With my head in her shoulder, I could feel her lips next to my ear, breathing heavy. The tenderness of this gentle fucking completely at odds with the brazen aggressiveness of climbing into a married man’s bed and fucking him while his wife slept. We moved carefully together, differently Bayan Escort than I moved with my wife. Hillary felt long and narrow inside, and maybe it was the slow speed in which we moved but at the top of each thrust, I could feel a flutter around my cock head as if I was being welcomed deep inside.
I raised myself up on my hands to get a better position and watch her face. Her eyes were wide and dark, fixated on me, and her mouth was open as she breathed hard. She was completely in the moment and I could feel my orgasm building. I think she could read my mind and nodded at me. She ran her hand behind my neck and pulled my head back into her shoulder, again, to stifle any sound I made as I came hard. Pressing into her hard and deep as I could feel strings of cum escaping the confines of my balls. Her breathing was ragged in my ear but I feared I hadn’t fully satisfied her.
Not wanting to appear selfish, I started to pull back so I could finish her in another way but she firmly held my hips in place with her hands. I relaxed into her and didn’t move. After a moment, I felt her quietly begin to shudder under me, cumming while I held her hips tightly to me in return.
We laid quietly together, breathing carefully. I guiltily checked but wife was still making those heavy rhythmic exhale sounds facing the other way, seemingly unaware of my adulterous activity.
Finally I slid off Hillary to the side and stood up. This time she didn’t stop me from moving. For a moment she laid there, one leg bent to the side as she ran her hand down her front, gently touching her pussy as if to remind herself of what just transpired. Few things had ever looked more erotic to me than her lying in the moonlight checking her pussy that I had just filled with cum. She swung her legs slowly out of the bed, placed her hand on my arm, kissed my cheek, and disappeared into the darkness of the house.
I got cleaned up in the bathroom but couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. It was just too much. I got back and bed, my wife and shifted a little but I just stared at the gentle moonlight reflected from the pool onto the ceiling.
The next morning, I was the last to arrive in the kitchen. My wife and Hillary were drinking iced coffees. Today, Hillary looked every bit the field researcher. She was wearing tan utility pants, a tight tank made from some tech material, her hair was pulled back in a tiny low pony and she had a bandana loosely tied around her neck. She was smiling, same banter as before, still beautiful, but also somehow more business like.
After breakfast, I took her suitcase down to the SUV while she hugged and discussed something with my wife. I was just closing the back gate when she arrived down at the car. We regarded each other carefully In the growing morning heat. Then she wrapped her arms around me, one hand caressing my neck and she leaned into my ear, “thank you… for everything.”
I hugged her back and then stood back as she hopped in the large vehicle. I trudged up the large slabs to the front patio where my wife was and turned to watch the SUV start its trek back down to the main road, the dust beginning to rise from its tires and mingle with the morning haze.
My wife slipped her arm through mine as we watched the dust follow the car that was receding into the desert.
“I feel sorry for her.”
I looked at my wife quizzically.
“She’s hitting 40, drop dead-gorgeous, super successful in a field few people pay attention to, and unlike anyone else there, she is financially independent due to those books she wrote.”
“Sounds like success to me?”
“Well, she wants to have kids and most men are intimidated by someone like that–she has been so unlucky finding the right person to be with.” She paused, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to go it alone and just jump the first guy who laughs at her stupid puns.”
I squinted even though the sun wasn’t in my face yet. The plume of dust diminished in the distance.
“Anyway,” my wife said, “come join me for a walk on the ridge line before the sun gets too high.”
She kissed me on the shoulder and turned to head inside. I watched the plume of dust dissipate, signally the now-too-small-to-see SUV had made the main road. Presumably heading south to meet up with the interstate in its way to the interior mountain range.
I looked up at the cloudless sky and followed my wife inside.
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