Page 50 of A Real Goode Time

Thinking I was oblivious.

She’d have gotten away with it too, if I enjoyed loud music. I just have sensitive ears, and being around roaring engines all day every day, my hearing is already somewhat lessened, which means I just keep the music low to preserve my hearing. So, I heard her.

And now I know what she sounds like when she comes, and I want to be the one to make her come.

I heard the doubt in her voice, earlier, when she said she didn’t mind my comments. She wasn’t sure about her commitment to us not hooking up. Her desire for me was obvious, but her reluctance, nerves, even fear, was just as obvious. And I wasn’t about to mess with that fear, that reluctance. If her sexual desire overcame whatever was holding her back, great. I’d be all over that, and ready to make her feel better than she’s ever felt. But I’m not pushing her into something she’s not ready for, or doesn’t fully want.

It made for big emotional, mental stress. Becausedamn, I wanted that girl. And everything about her made me want her more—her body, her tumultuous sexuality and the innocence which was at odds with it…her intelligence, her humor, the way she waffled between sometimes being unfiltered and opinionated, and other times shy and reluctant to open up.

Everything she was as a person, not just her body, made me crazy with desire. And shit yeah, I wanted that too. In the worst way. Now, having had such tantalizing glimpses of her body and her sexuality, that desire went to another level.

The fact that she was willing and daring enough to masturbate in the same room with me? It spoke of a potent libido. Possibly an underserved one—and by possibly, I mean definitely. What that meant, I wasn’t sure. She was a gorgeous single young girl, with an incredible body, an active, agile mind, a sharp sense of humor, and a healthy dose of independence. Why should she be under-sexed?

It made no sense to me: she should have men lining up to please her.

The first few minutes of our drive were in companionable silence, the radio off, the windows down. It was still a fairly cool morning, so I’d left the top up for now, figuring we’d put it down after lunch. One of the upgrades I’d done to this Jeep was replacing the old, worn factory soft top with a new aftermarket one that folded back simply and easily.

As we left the area outside New Haven where I lived, we faced a choice of routes. I glanced at Torie. “So, there’s two ways we can go from here to get you on the way to Alaska. Either go south and through the States, under the Great Lakes and then north, or we go up through Canada. Choice is yours.”

She frowned at me. “I’ve never been anywhere, so I don’t know which is better? I’ve never seen anything but New Haven, and New York City a couple times, but that’s it. For all intents and purposes, I’ve never left Connecticut. So it makes more sense to me for you to pick which route to take.”

I nodded. “A good point.” I thought it over. “I was planning on taking the route through the States, but I wanted to give you the option. Canadaisa different country, but that may be an experience for another time.”

“Makes sense to me.” She glanced at me, but then away again. “Plus, when it’s time for you to turn around and go back home, it might be better for me to be in the States to find a means of transportation the rest of the way.”

A niggling worm of discomfort sat in my belly at the idea of just…leaving Torie at a bus stop somewhere in the middle of, like, North Dakota or somewhere. It’s not like I could go all the way to fuckin’ Alaska.

Right?

Of course not.

“States route it is, then,” was all I said, and guided us toward the freeway. I had the route pulled up on my phone, but it was pretty simple once we were on the freeway, so I didn’t use it to actively navigate us. I’d probably turn it on when it was Torie’s turn to drive, since she’d never driven any real distance on a freeway.

Another long period of silence as we took I-95 south toward New York. I was fine with the silence, and I think she was, too. We went past Stamford and Greenwich, and then New Rochelle, and then we were making the transition through the Bronx and over the river to I-80.

By this time, it was obvious Torie had something on her mind. I waited it out a bit longer, though. Maybe she just needed some time to think.

She didn’t say a word until the “WELCOME TO PENNSYLVANIA” sign was in sight. She looked over at me, then, and a small smile spread across her face.

“‘If I take one more step, I’ll be the farthest from home I’ve ever been.’” She said this with a tone of voice that made it sound like a quotation.

“Is that a quote?”

“The Fellowship of the Ring,” she said. “Lord of the Rings.”

“Oh, seen the movies, but I’ve never had much time for reading for pleasure.”

She smiled at me. “‘Come on, Sam. Remember what Bilbo used to say: ‘It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no telling where you might be swept off to.’”

“You have the whole book memorized?” I said, laughing.

“Not hardly. I just love that quote. Always have. Having never been anywhere, I’ve always been sort of obsessed with their whole adventure. Adventures and travel in general, really. I guess I’m pretty excited to be actuallygoingsomewhere.”

“I mean, it’s Pennsylvania, not all that exciting,” I said, smirking at her. “No offense meant to all the fine folks who live here.”

She snorted. “Every single person in Pennsylvania just heard your comment, took it personally, and now they’re mad at you. Better watch behind us for the angry mob with pitchforks and torches.”

I cackled. “Seems like you’re in good spirits, now. Thought for a while there you were upset or something.”