Mercado Lake - Cover

Mercado Lake

Copyright© 2006 by Tallorder64

Chapter 7

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - Bob Long helps a woman that had hit a deer in a snow storm. He finds that she needs help with more than her car.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Slow  

Ann picked up the phone and called her employee at home. The woman answered and told Ann that the snow was not as bad there as it was at the cabin although the weather forecast was for one to two inches. The employee agreed to run the shop by herself if Ann couldn't get in. Ann thanked her and promised to make every effort to make it in to the shop on Monday.

Ann hung up the phone and sat with the phone on her lap. She knew that she should let her daughter know where she was in case Brenda tried to reach her at the condo. She dialed the phone number of the apartment that Brenda was staying in with three other girls.

After several tries the line finally became free. One of Brenda's housemates answered the phone and called out for Brenda to pick up the phone upstairs.

"Hello?" Brenda said sleepily.

"Brenda, this is your Mom. Is everything OK?"

Ann heard her daughter yawn, "Sure Mom. I was just trying to get some shuteye. I've been cramming for tests this week, burning a lot of midnight oil. Anything wrong?"

"Oh, I hit a deer and had to be pulled off of the road. It's snowing pretty good here and I ran into a ditch while I was being towed. A man helped me and I'm staying at his cabin so I thought that I'd better let you know where I am."

"So, Mom. You're spending the night in a secluded cabin with some man," Brenda said with a chuckle in her voice, "What does he look like? Would I approve?"

"Ok Brenda. Knock it off," Ann chuckled, "I couldn't drive the car because both of the headlights were broken. It was dangerous leaving the car on the road in this snowstorm. Now my car is blocking the driveway."

"Sure Mom. That's as good an excuse as any. When do I get a chance to meet this man?"

"Brenda, take this number. It's the man's satellite phone. It looks like we're going to be here for a couple of days. The weatherman is saying six to twelve inches or more. We'll have to dig my car out so that we can get out of here."

Brenda paused for a second, "Six to twelve inches of what, Mom?"

Ann began to get defensive, "Knock it off Brenda. You know what I mean. Call me at this number if you need me. I'll be Ok. The cabin is warm and we have everything that we need."

Ann read the number off of the phone and asked Brenda how she was doing with her class work. They talked for a few minutes before Ann told her that she had better get off of the phone before she ran the battery down.

"OK Mom. I'll talk to you later. Don't do anything that I wouldn't do."

Ann was about to lay into Brenda for that remark when she heard the phone go dead. She stared at the phone for a minute and started smiling. She wondered just how experienced her daughter was sexually.

Bob opened the door and entered with a load of firewood in his arms. He turned and went back outside two more times before he was satisfied that he had enough firewood in to last until the snowstorm passed. After he dropped the last load of wood in the rack he shook the snow off of his parka and stomped his boots to get the snow off. He pulled a wooden chair over close to the fire and put the parka over the chair to dry and put the boots in front of the chair.

Ann watched as he walked to the woodstove and opened it and threw two sticks of firewood in the stove. She saw him poke around in the fire for a minute and then close the doors. He turned and plopped down in the chair next to her.

"My god, it's wicked out there," he said. "There must be about seven inches on the ground right now. I haven't seen it snow this hard, this early in the season in a long time. I pity anyone on the roads tonight, I think there's a little ice mixed in with this mess. Did you contact anyone to let them know where you are?"

"Yes, I made two calls," she replied, "I hope you don't mind. I had to let my employee know that I might not make it in Monday."

"And the other call was to the police, right?" Bob chuckled.

Ann felt her face redden, "No, I called my daughter, Brenda. She's in college. She has visions of being a doctor. I'm going to do everything I can to make her dream come true."

"You didn't mention a call to a Mr. Simmons," Bob said, "I take it that there is no Mr. Simmons?"

"No, I'm a widow. My husband died when my daughter was very young and I never remarried."

Ann didn't feel that she owed an explanation about how she became a widow. Bob Long seemed nice enough, but... well she had never discussed her rape with anyone since she had confided in Rosie. Even Brenda, her daughter, had never been told about the rape.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't really mean to pry. Please forgive this inconsiderate fool."

For some reason that she couldn't understand Ann blushed, "That's Ok. It's been a long time now and the pain is just a memory now."

The pain was not really just a memory. She often thought about Ray and how the marriage had disintegrated because of his gambling and lack of discipline when it came to money. How his immaturity had caused him to seek the easy way out of everything. She still had guilt feelings; wondering if there were any opportunities she had missed that would have changed things for her and Ray. She knew now that he had been spoiled as a child and never learned responsibility. She didn't hate Ray; she just put him into a section of her memory where he wouldn't cause her any more pain. Ray was just someone that she used to know.

She suddenly became aware that Bob was talking to her, "I'm sorry. I guess my mind started to wander a bit."

Bob smiled, "I said that you'd better hang your wet clothes up on the rail of the loft. It's warmer up there and your clothes will dry out quicker."

Ann had brought her wet clothes down with her when she had changed into the sweats not knowing what to do with them. She got up from the chair struggling to keep the sweat pants up and gathered up her clothes and started for the stairs to the loft holding up the sweat pants with the clothes in her arms. Bob watched as she walked away from him and saw that, although she was successful in keeping the sweat pants up in the front, her rear was about halfway exposed. He watched as she climbed the stairs knowing that she would be mortified if she knew that her rear end was exposed.

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