Bob was worried that there would just be one of those tiny cakes of motel soap, but Sharon had a bottle of some kind of feminine-smelling body wash and it was clear that it was going to be a sensual wash down – especially with her doing it – more than it would be with what the motel provided. She found a wash cloth, loaded it down good with the wash, then handed it to him and said, “Would you like to wash me first?”

“I sure would,” he replied. “I can’t get enough of touching that warm, soft body of yours.”

“I can’t get enough of having you touch it,” she said with a grin that seemed to say that if he thought he was going to get out of the shower without getting her off again he had another think coming. That was just fine with him whether she got him off or not. He started washing down her wet, nude body with the wash cloth and with his bare hand, glorying in the wet, slick feel of her skin. It was like silk to the touch, but warm wet silk, fantastic in its sensuality, and he could feel himself getting hard from just the feel of it.

He still had to piss, so told her to turn around while he worked on her back. While her back was turned and the heavy blast of water from the shower head was beating on it, he turned sideways and tried to let go of the flow without being too noticeable about it. It seemed to work, at least he didn’t get any comment from her. The flow went on and on, and he realized that he’d had to go more than he’d thought; a lot had built up, and once he’d finally emptied himself he felt the joy of relief from the pressure.

He gave her a thorough wash down, especially between the legs. She was properly appreciative of it, especially as they kissed each other long, deep and hard under the rush of hot water; she showed her appreciation by the application of her wet, soapy hand to his rigid erection. The shower went on and on, not long enough for either of them but more than long enough to get them very clean. Finally, reluctantly, they decided they’d had enough, and shut the water off. Once outside the shower, they used the big hotel towels to dry each other, another sensual experience that could have inspired them to another bout if it were not for the fact that the day was progressing and their bodies were starting to feel signs of their exertions.

“I suppose it’s on the late side for breakfast,” he commented as they worked on drying each other, “But we probably ought to go down and get something to eat while we figure out what to do next.”

“Yes,” she replied with a grin. “While I felt I ate well last night, I’m getting to the point where I could stand something a little more solid than the light snacks I’ve had since then. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed them very much, but I think it might be better to have something a little more substantial, too. And yes, what to do next is something that we have to work out. There’s a part of me that would like to come back here and pick up where we left off, but I’m with you, I’m afraid I’ve pushed my body a little hard in the last few hours. However, I do like the hard that was pushed into me, don’t worry about that.”

“Didn’t say I was disagreeing,” he said. “However, I think I’m going to need a little down time before I’m ready to do that again, no matter how much I want to.”

“Bob, I know it must be disappointing for me to tell you this,” she replied. “But I still haven’t settled my feelings about the offer you made to me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great offer and it comes with some very appealing benefits, but I feel there are a few issues that we must discuss. While I dearly cherish all the sex of the last few hours, I think we need to have a little more than just the sex if I was to take you up on it.”

“The sex was wonderful, there’s no doubt about it,” he replied. “I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want more, though a few hours’ break is becoming a necessity. The problem is that there are some things that we’re going to have to work out pretty soon, considering that I have to be making up my mind about whether I’m going to catch that plane tomorrow, or ask for a few days off.”

“Why don’t you just ask for the time off?” she suggested. “If you have it coming, you might as well take it. I have nothing in particular I need to do the next few days. Then, we can spend the time together and perhaps settle a few of these things, and while we’re at it we could spend as much time in bed as we want.”

“You know,” he smiled, “That’s not a bad idea. As far as that goes, there’s no reason we even have to stay in Hawthorne. We could go someplace, well, more interesting.”

“I suppose we could,” she smiled. “But, Bob, let’s be reasonable. Why would we want to go to some fascinating and expensive resort or something when all we’re going to do is to stay in our rooms and do our best to fuck each other silly? I know that’s what I want you to do to me, and I hope that’s what you want me to do to you.”

“Well, yeah,” he grinned as he toweled her down some more. “That’s sort of what I had in mind. Of course, we still have the issue of whether you’re coming to Colorado with me to discuss.”

“Yes, and that would give us a little time to think about it and discuss it some more,” she said. “I’ll admit, I like the idea, but I have concerns. I think I’m probably dry enough now, under the circumstances. I really like drying off thoroughly after a shower, and you’ve certainly done a fine job of it. Much though I’d like to take you back to bed, I think we’d better get dressed and greet the day.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he agreed, even though it would mean he wouldn’t have the glory of her nude body to appreciate.

“How would you like me to dress?” she asked, as she turned to giving him a final drying down. “I could put on shorts and a T-shirt, I suppose. That’s what I often wear around the apartment in the summer, and even sometimes in the winter. That’s what I wore driving here from Buffalo. But I have several dresses, and even a pair of slacks. I don’t wear jeans, not at all, Bob. I don’t like jeans and I don’t even own any. Jeans may be the American national dress but they always seem sloppy to me. I mean, if I’m going to be sloppy I can at least be sloppy in a way that’s comfortable, not in a way that’s tight and hot and constricted. Now, Laura, she liked to wear blue jeans. That was about all that she ever wore, even to work. She worked in an office somewhere and I always wondered how she managed to get away with it. I mean, if that’s the kind of office environment that people have, it can’t be a very good office, don’t you think? I mean, what kind of impression does it make on the public when you come in and the workers are dressed in blue jeans and T-shirts that are approaching obscene? I mean, with tasteless sayings on them, or advertising beer or something. It’s tacky at best and downright sloppy. Sloppy, Bob, do you hear me? Me, if I’m working in an office I at least like to dress neatly, and that doesn’t include things like blue jeans or shorts or those kinds of things, what do you think? I mean, slacks, at a minimum, slacks or a skirt or dress. What do you think, Bob?”

“I don’t have to think about it,” he said with a smile, feeling plenty dry enough now but still enjoying having her towel his body down. The touch, the intimacy was something special, something he didn’t want to end. “I know what I prefer. Given a choice and if the circumstances are correct, I’d almost always rather see a woman in a skirt or a dress. And by that I mean a skirt, not skorts or cheaters or whatever they call those things that masquerade as a skirt but really aren’t. They don’t move like a skirt when a woman walks, and I like the view of how it sways with her walking. So I mean there are times that slacks or even jeans are all right, but if you want to hear my choice, I’d tell you I’d like to see you in a skirt or dress.”

She smiled at him and giggled. “Well, I guess that’s one thing we agree on, although I’ll bet it’s for different reasons. I prefer to look neat and well dressed when I can and don’t like to appear sloppy. I can’t imagine how some women can stand to go out in public dressed like they’re painting their house or something like that. Well, since you insist, Bob, I’ll dig out a dress to wear today. I hope you’ll like it.” She tossed the towel in the general direction of the towel rack and continued talking: “Considering who you are I’d almost be tempted to wear it without a bra, but this dress is so light colored that my nipples would show through if I didn’t wear one. I don’t always wear a bra and don’t always like to, but I think I would have to today since you’ve got my nipples so sore I think I’d better have the protection. If my nipples were to rub against my dress all day I’d be turned on like mad, and I know you’d like that. But by the time we finally got into bed my boobs would be so sore I couldn’t stand to have you touch them and I know you wouldn’t like that, would you, Bob?”

“God damn, Sharon, you give me some tough choices to make,” he laughed as he followed her out into the main part of the room. “I think it’d be sexy as hell to see your nipples tenting up your dress, with the dark around them showing through. But yeah, I plan on playing with them again sooner or later and I think that’s even more important.”

“Good,” she smiled. “I knew you’d see reason.”

Since he hadn’t planned on staying the night – it had been a wonderful surprise – Bob didn’t have clean clothes with him and had to settle for the ones he’d worn the night before. As clean as he was he didn’t relish putting on the used underwear but didn’t have any choice. As he dressed, he watched Sharon dry her hair in the nude, then give it a close brushing before putting it into its usual ponytail. He was mostly dressed before she started in, pulling on bikini panties, a light bra, and a thigh-length white print sundress that buttoned up the front. While he had enjoyed the sight of her being nude, watching her dress was a joy in itself.

With both of them dressed, she opened the drapes in the front of the room. The sun was well up now, and it was obvious that it was warming up. The parking lot was mostly empty. “You know,” he commented. “We probably ought to think some about where we’re going today, or what we’re doing. You’re going to be coming up on check out time here pretty soon.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” she replied. “I have no particular desire to stay here another night if there’s somewhere else we’re going to end up. You have a rental car, I suppose?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I rented it out of Detroit Metro. That where I flew in. OK, what do you say that we pack you up? I’ll have to head back to my folk’s house to get my stuff, but then you could follow me back to Metro, I can drop off the rental, and we can figure out where we’re going from there, maybe somewhere along the way.”

“It sounds reasonable,” she replied. “Is it going to cause you any problems to leave your parent’s house early?”

“No, not at all,” he replied. “I was leaving today, anyway. I have an early flight out of Metro for Denver, so I was just going to head up there, drop off the car, and get a motel room tonight so I could be on the plane at oh-dark-thirty and still get a reasonable night’s sleep. There’s no reason they have to know I’m not flying back tomorrow.”

“Is staying with me last night going to cause you any problems with them?”

“It better not,” he said. “I am not a little boy any more, I’m thirty-eight years old, after all. Besides, I told them there was a chance I might belly up to the bar once too often and decide to get a room rather than driving back, so it’s not like they were expecting me or anything. What do you say we pack you up, haul your stuff out to your car, and then we can both drive back down to Bradford so I can get my stuff.”

“I think that sounds like it has all the essential properties of a plan,” she said. “It won’t take me long to get packed, and then you can help me carry my luggage down to my car.”

“Maybe we can have breakfast at the Chicago Inn, rather than here. I don’t think much of continental breakfasts, anyway.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” she said as she turned to packing, working efficiently while she talked. “I think they’re horrible. I think a good breakfast should consist of more than weak coffee and a dried-out day old croissant, which is what we’re likely to get here. I mean, I usually eat a light breakfast, but at least it runs to something fairly tasty, or at least healthy. I will be the first to admit that I love croissants when they’re fresh and properly made, but I can’t tell you the last time I’ve had one. It probably was when I was in France, they know how to make croissants. People talk about French cooking, some of it is very good but on the whole, I think it’s over-rated. Some of the things the French think is high cuisine I wouldn’t feed to my dog, if I had a dog, that is. But the French are much better on the whole than the English. My God, Bob, I can’t imagine how the English manage to survive on some of the food they serve, it’s better than Chinese, by a long shot but still just barely edible. German cooking is very good but rather heavy, and I’ve had enough sauerkraut to last me a lifetime and then some. Here, hold this for a moment, thank you. Actually, I think that the continental cooking that I enjoy most is Italian. It’s possible to find bad food in Italy but you have to work at it. It’s possible to get a little heavy on the pasta and tomatoes. People used to think tomatoes were poisonous, did you know that Bob? Tomatoes! I mean, they taste wonderful and the Italians do nice things with them but there can be too much of a good thing, you know? I actually got to like a few things the Koreans cooked, but not very well, and thank God, I mean, thank God for ramen noodles or I don’t know how I would have survived in Pusan. And that sauce the Koreans seem to use on everything? Kimchi? My God, that stuff would gag a maggot! Maybe it’s because I’m an American but I think that Americans do a pretty good job of cooking on the whole. Of course, you have some regional things that vary, I mean, you have to go down to New Orleans some time and try out some Cajun cooking, that’s real food although I can’t eat too much of it or I get heartburn like you wouldn’t believe! There are still some other very neat regional foods, like pasties in the Upper Peninsula. Now, those are pretty local, and it’s a darn shame, Bob, it’s a darn shame that more people don’t know about a real Upper Peninsula Cornish Pasty, that’s real food. I guess I’m not a purist since I like mine with gravy and that’s a bit much for little old me to eat at one sitting. I wish they’d make some smaller, child size, or at least woman size, but the key to a really good pasty is in the rutabagas, I don’t know how people can consider making a pasty without rutabagas and still call it a pasty, do you Bob? And there’s lots of other real good local and cultural food in this country, things that most people don’t think about since all we see on television is the ads for national food chains and national products, it’s costing us a lot of diversity in the way we live, don’t you think?”

Since she’d been gathering things up and packing them as she talked, Bob just let her talk and tried to stay out of her way. By the time he responded to her last question in a muted affirmative, she pretty well had things ready to go. She continued to talk about regional foods and the things she liked about them as she made one last pass through the bathroom and the rest of the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. All in all, though, she had traveled light, with just a single large suitcase and smaller carry-on bag, as well as her purse. He picked up the heavy items to carry down to the car for her. As they went by the front desk, she dropped off the room card, and then led the way to her car.

Her car proved to be an older Ford Escort sedan, looked in fairly decent shape but nothing special, and she admitted it. “It gets me around,” she said, “and it’s not too bad on gas, which at over three dollars a gallon most place is something I have to be concerned with these days, especially since I don’t have much of an income right now. It was a reach to make this trip but I so wanted to see our classmates again I figured it was worth it. But of course I never figured on seeing you again and striking it off so firmly with you at that. That has been a pleasant surprise indeed.” She opened the trunk, which was fairly empty, and he loaded her bags into it. “Your parents still live in the same place, don’t they?” she asked as she closed the trunk.

“Haven’t moved,” Bob said. “They still live up there on Maple Grove.”

“I thought so,” she smiled. “I might as well follow you, then, although if we get separated I should be able to find it. What car are you driving?”

“That Kia Rio over there,” he pointed. “The red one.”

“Oh, a red car? How nice! Did you order that or something?”

“No, that’s what they had and I didn’t complain. It’s turned out to be a better car than I expected, but it’s not anything I’d want to drive every day. It feels a little, well, small for me. Kind of tinny and cheap, but it got me out here from the airport and it ought to get me back there. You can’t really ask a whole lot more than that of it.”

“Well, I suppose,” she said. “That’s the thing with my little car, it gets me there and takes me back, and really, that’s all I ask of it. I’ll see you in Bradford, Bob,” she said as she unlocked the car and got in.

Bob took that as a signal to get a move on. He headed over to the Kia and climbed in. It took just a little bit of fiddling to get the seat belt fastened and get the car running, but in a minute he was backing out of the parking space and under way. As he passed her, he could see her back out of her parking space and follow him. In a moment, he saw the motel in his rear view mirror, and couldn’t help but think that so much that he hadn’t expected had happened here in the last few hours. He hadn’t expected to have that good a time with his old classmates, and he most especially had not expected to have a wonderful sex filled night with the old friend he’d all but forgotten about.

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