To a derelict fire watch tower Lindsay knows

Lindsay points to the map, tracing a road that branches off the county road a couple hours from here, past a small town. "How about we stop there. It has a nice view and I bet nobody will be there today. Then I'll turn around and head back, and you said you're heading that way, here. Or you could probably just stay overnight in the RV."

"What's that place?" you ask. Nothing obviously marked on the map.

"Old fire watch tower on top of the ridge," Lindsay says. "The road should still be good because there's a telephone tower further along, here."

"How do you happen to know all that, Lindsay?" Mary asks.

Lindsay looks around. It's just Priscilla, Mary and you. She grins and giggles. "I was a counselor at a summer camp, here?" She points to a spot a few miles away from the ridge top. "I drew a guy's name for a blind date, um. That's where we lost our virginity with each other."

"Was your first time good?" Priscilla asks.

"Oh yeahhhh," Lindsay says. "So good. But I guess making me come gave him the balls to go after the girl he really wanted and punch her V-card but good. Multiples, and was she a screamer! Everybody heard her calling his name. I did get him one more time after dreamgirl left, ha ha, and it was good. But that was the last time we did it."

"I envy you your good start," Priscilla says. "But at least I finally learned how to make it good for me. Suleiman, bless him."

You check the walkie talkies, looking good. Lindsay and Mary will be riding together to start, Priscilla will be with you in the RV, you're planning for a fill-up and lunch in the little town, then a Lovers' Lane afternoon up on the ridge.

Just like yesterday, you follow Lindsay and Mary in Lindsay's little car.

Priscilla has a question a minute for most of the way to town, asking you about your open marriage with Mary and how many women you've been with. You're not sure, but both you and Mary are way up in the double figures for sex partners. "Double figures for ladies I've been with," you clarify. "For Mary, it's men and women. Maybe a bigger tally on the ladies' side, come to think of it."

After a while, Priscilla runs out of steam and says, "Hmm, I'll have to think about that."

Thinking about that seems to include laying a hand over the front of your shorts, and eventually snaking her hand up the loose leg hole to cup Old Number One, who swells in appreciation.

"You can leave your hand there as long as you like," you say. "At least as long as we're rolling."

"I will, thank you," says Priscilla. "Sometimes I wonder if I would have had a divorce, if I had had lovers. But then my inheritance would have been community property."

"Ma'am," you acknowledge. "Do you have lovers now?"

"Other than Suleiman, I would have to say the best term for my partners would be one-night stands." Priscilla sighs. "I couldn't get away with being an evangelist of sexuality like your wife." She laughs. "Not in my little town. Maybe I should cultivate an appreciation for angels and get your wife to recommend readings for me."

"Well, ma'am," you say. "I suppose you've taken the first step, riding with me. Riding with us, after Lindsay heads home."

And then Mary's voice comes through on the walkie-talkie and she tells you Lindsay's suggestion for a little place to pick up lunch.

"Lindsay," you say. "You've done us proud for take-out lunch, I trust you."

Priscilla pipes up. "Is there a little store there, that has...?" She says some words, some of which you figure as French.

Lindsay laughs. "It's a little town," she says. "But they might have something like that for out-of-towners."

You pull up on the main street -- fortunately there's room for the RV, the size of a small city bus. But the RV's a little thing next to your usual rig, an eighteen-wheel tractor-trailer. You get out to stretch your legs while the gals are shopping. It's a fine sunny day, maybe a little warm, but it should be cooler up on the ridge.

At least your shorts are a bit loose. After all that warming-up Priscilla did while you were on the road, Old Number One could use a chance to breathe. He'd be up again later, after lunch.

You turn back around to see your wife grinning from a little ways away. "Stay right there, Brian," she says. She walks up quickly and puts down a grocery sack, then reaches straight down and pulls your shorts into place. "Priscilla left you with your wiener hanging out. The head anyways."

"Well then," you say. "Glad you were the first one to notice."

While in town, you get a big drink of water. Loving can be thirsty work. And you pay a visit to some "legitimate porcelain" to save the RV toilet for later.

Switching out passengers, you and Mary follow Lindsay and Priscilla up the road out of town and up toward the old fire look-out where Lindsay rode her first dick. Got off on her first dick, miracle of miracles. You smile inside. You have a few sweet memories like that. You wonder what happened to your first gal, from that faraway place all those years ago. For sure you weren't her first, and you're glad of it. Lindsay had been lucky with her first guy, with neither of them knowing anything outside of book-learning and gossip.

It's a long, steady grade up the side of the ridge, and Lindsay's car is blowing a little blue smoke. The RV's having no trouble with the climb, but it looks like Lindsay's compact is having trouble with the hill. Mary tries calling ahead.

"No answer, honeybear," your wife says. "I wonder if Lindsay forgot to turn it back on."

But you crest the ridge, and Lindsay's little car turns off before the main road starts the long downgrade. There's a bumpy lane that goes a short way to a flat parking apron with a view across the valley and forested ridges beyond.

You park behind Lindsay -- a little steam coming out from under the hood, now -- and set your brake. Seems a good enough place to set your jacks, too, since you were figuring on staying the night after Lindsay takes off. If she can, that is.

Lindsay's engine overheated going up the long grade. You give it a look and tell her. "Just let it cool off. It's not like you were planning to go anywhere right away, and it's almost all downhill on your way back."

"I guess so," she says. She brushes back her head full of frosted curly ringlets. Her golden skin is shiny with sweat. "Hope that's all it is."

"Were you running your A/C climbing the hill?"

"Yes, it's a warm day," Lindsay says.

"I bet that was just too much. Anyway, lunch?"

Lindsay smiles and runs her tongue over her lips. "Yes. But food, first."

You let out a belly laugh. Lindsay's favorite lunch, as it seems, has been Mary's pussy. Twice she's swooped in head-first before you could get Old Number One on target.

You set up some folding camp chairs and spread out a picnic blanket on a sunny area with a breeze and a view, on the side of the RV away from the main road, which is a little out of view anyway.

Priscilla had found some little bottles of sparkling wine, fancy cheese, crackers, and grapes, big dark purple ones with seeds and juice that ran down your chin if you bit into them all unwary.

Priscilla and Lindsay end up splitting one of the little bottles. Mary declines. You have a sip to be polite. It's fine, really, but you don't want or need a buzz for the afternoon you've got planned.

Lindsay's lunch pick had been a sandwich place, and they were good solid sandwiches. Mary had had them make up your usual order, with plenty of pickles and mustard. It was a touch fancier than you expected, but maybe that little town saw lots of tourists these days, not just bikers on a weekend joyride, or counselors from the summer camp. You wipe up with a napkin, then a lemony wet wipe, then another napkin. Good sandwich, if a little drippy.

"Oh Lindsay, honey," your wife says. "Oh Lindsay, you sweetheart."

The young hotel clerk hadn't wasted any time in diving into her favorite lunch -- your wife's pussy pie. Lindsay was kneeling in front of Mary's folding camp chair, her face planted between Mary's legs, licking for all she was worth. Mary was gently touching Lindsay's hair, brushing her fingertips through Lindsay's curly locks. Priscilla stands close, watching in fascination, her eyes darting from Lindsay's tongue to Mary's face and back again. Lindsay's light sundress is rippling in the breeze here at the top of the ridge, and it doesn't look like she's got much underneath.

You sidle up next to Lindsay. She notices, pauses, and winks at you. "I thought you were still busy with your sandwich," she says.

"Lindsay, hon," you say. "Would you like a little tongue in your own pie?"

"Yes, please, very much," she says. "I guess that makes me the sandwich now."

"I won't argue with that."

Lindsay rearranges herself, pulling up her sundress, tucking it up to bare her butt, getting up on her knees, and bending down again with her face between your wife's open thighs.

"I must say you look delicious, Lindsay. Let me dig right in."

Oh she's tasty.

One Roll Engine

• Random Event: 10S, 6D = Take (Mystical), Future Plans (Technical) - Either Lindsay's or Brian and Mary's plans for later are diverted.
• Brian and Mary's travel plans? Yes/No, Likely, d6 yes 3+, d6 mod, 1="but", 6="and": 2,4 simply no; so Lindsay isn't going home according to plan.
• Lindsay's plans are complicated in some way, Topic Focus: QC Equipment (physical) her car breaks down. At the fire watch tower? Yes/No, Likely: 4,3 simply yes, it won't start when she wants to head home.

Slut World:

• Tell Her (2d6+0 Hot): 11, she wants it, take +1 Forward.

• Eat Pussy (2d6+1, 0 Hot, +1 Forward): 8 + 1 = 9, choose two from the following options.

• You lick her ass.

• She cums (+1 XP).

• Take +1 forward.

• She doesn't scream, pass out, or get you in trouble.

You have 1 XP, +0 Hard, +0 Hot, +1 Cool, +1 Control, Eat Pussy, OMG, and Submissive (Mary)