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.