My work day on the narrow gauge tourist train was over. I was back at my trailer, supper eaten, shower done, looking forward to my day off tomorrow and settling in for some stimulating texting with the lady I am now calling Miss X.

My relationship with Miss X started as client/spa provider in my hometown. To my surprise our relationship changed as we began chatting. One day I asked her to offer her thoughts about some of my erotic photos (a pleasant diversion of mine). She gave very thoughtful feedback, always very insightful, often pointing out a photo’s specific suggestive nature. Later I brought up the idea of some kinky games involving a belt and lubricant and she was intrigued. We tried one at our next session and I was delighted when she really got into it, with gusto!

We were only able to enjoy these special encounters a few times before I was called away to the railroad. But we were able to keep our excitement up with our texting. Expressions of love were shared. While sometimes frustrated by my long hours on the train, we maintained contact. Our conversation turned to how much we missed one another’s physical presence. Then to my happy surprise, Miss X, in her very seductive way, began to make oblique references to certain physical pleasures that were hitherto off limits. I was hooked, and hard! We were both enjoying the excitement and secrecy of our unique sort of love affair. Then Miss X told me she was traveling to China for two months to visit her family, and communication would not be possible. I found I missed her terribly; I counted the days until her return. And how my spirits were lifted when at last she texted me that she had returned.

So there I was, relaxing for the evening. I had just sent Miss X a kiss emoji, and she had replied “Busy,” not uncommon given the delightful way she does her relaxation treatments. I settled in to wait for her to finish with the client, when I knew she would pop in with a hello or a kiss of her own.

And so it was, a little later, with great surprise I read her text: “Trails End room 15.” What was going on here, I wondered? She was back in my hometown, not in the tiny New Mexico village with the narrow gauge train. I thought for a few minutes. Had someone hacked into our text thread, and inserted this message into with some nefarious intent? I gave it another few minutes and texted back, “Everything okay?” The response was brief: “Come.”

It was only about a 10 minute walk from my trailer to the motel, and I decided the cool night air would help keep my senses clear, and certainly be more discrete than my noisy old truck. I grabbed my little pistol and slipped it into a pocket, mindful of the bears which were not unknown at our campground, but thinking more of two-legged predators. And so I took off, mulling over what could possibly be going on.

Soon I was at the door of room 15. I lightly knocked and then stood off to one side like I’d seen them do in the detective shows, with my pistol out and ready for trouble. The door opened a fraction and I could see Miss X’s face, looking serious, but not in any apparent distress. Quickly she opened the door. I stepped in and just as quickly she closed it behind me.

I started to say, “What...?”

But she held a finger to her lips and said, “Explanation later.”

I took a moment to look at her. Clearly she had just taken a shower, and was wearing a beautifully made robe of teal colored silk with elaborate multicolor embroidered peacock designs. What a gorgeous sight she was! Her robe was not tied and I could see the curve of her full breasts, and the sprinkling of fine hair between where her legs met.