Northern Exposure

Northern Exposure

word count 3213

         It was morning up in the northern wilds of British Columbia. It was the kind of morning that chills the bone and makes the hardiest of people want to stay in bed under the sanctuary of a thick quilt comforter. Amanda Hardy did not have the luxury of a warm bed on this morning however. She was a northern bush pilot who frequently delivered supplies and mail to the most remote of settlements in the Canadian Rockies. People depended upon her and her aircraft for their very survival

         Amanda was at the helm of a flying museum piece. She still couldn’t believe that she had gotten her hands on a restorable PBY Catalina. The planes were famous for their scouting and reconnaissance work during World War two. As far as she knew hers was only one of two operational PBYs left in the world. The plane was durable and easy to fly. The aircraft was perfect for hauling the large amounts of supplies and groceries that she transported on a daily basis.

         She brought the PBY in low over the long stands of lodge pole pines that dominated this small section of British Columbia. She glanced down among the passing trees to see a grazing female elk bolt away from the shadow of her plane. Amanda smiled as she saw the cow run off into the heavier brush. The animal was a beautiful sight to see. It was the perfect way for her to begin the day.

         She really did not know much about the man she was delivering supplies to. Trevor Anderson seemed to be a local mystery to everyone. Her other customers seemed to know very little about the man. There was a rumor going around that the man had won a jackpot in some state lottery down south of the border. He apparently used the winnings to buy a large parcel of land up here in the Canadian wilderness. If that was the case Amanda was going to have to keep a close eye on him. An American lottery winner equated to a big time green horn in her mind. The man would probably be lucky to survive his first winter in the wilderness.

         The PBY banked low over Crystal Lake as if it were a large bird looking to scoop up an unsuspecting fish. She flew the large straight wing plane around the circumference of the lake once. The low pass was meant to allow Mr. Andersen fair warning that his supply delivery had arrived. It also gave her the opportunity to scout the surrounding area out. She was a woman flying alone in the Canadian wilderness. She did not want any surprises.

         She finished her circle and brought the big sea plane down in a graceful glide along the middle of the lake. She managed to spook a flock of geese that were currently swimming across the cold blue waters. The gaggle launched off of the water in a desperate attempt to escape the PBY’s path. Amanda cut the engines to near quarter throttle to avoid them.

         Mr. Andersen’s house didn’t look as if it had been built by a lottery winner. It was a nicely built log home but was rather quaint for someone who had just won the lottery. It couldn’t have been any larger than two bedrooms; small ones at that. Maybe the man was flaunting his money other places. Maybe he had an expensive power boat stashed around here somewhere.

         Amanda parked the PBY up along side of a long pier that had been constructed. She carefully guided her plane to a drifting stop and cut the engines. To her surprise there was no one to meet her or help her secure the aircraft. Didn’t Mr. Andersen have at least the common courtesy to greet her? Apparently the man didn’t know proper northern Rockies etiquette. Well at least he was her only stop this morning. After this she could go home and put her feet up by the fireplace.

         Amanda unstrapped herself from the pilot’s seat and made a hasty retreat to the hatch. She needed to get outside quickly if she was to secure the plane to the pier by herself. The last thing she needed was for this bird to go drifting out in the middle of the lake or get snagged up on a sand bar. Damn, why didn’t Mr. Lottery winner have enough sense to come and greet her at the pier?

         She reached the side hatch and hastily forced the locking mechanism open. She managed to smack her right hand against the side of the plane in her haste. Amanda suddenly spilled out a sentence of profanity that would have made the heartiest merchant marine blush. The sentence presented the unknown lottery winner in the most unflattering light.

         With a now throbbing right hand she pushed the hatch open to expose the inside of the plane to the morning sunlight. She held her hand up to her face for a moment until her eyes adjusted to the change in lighting. She had been wearing sunglasses when she had been flying and she had left them hanging on the steering yoke. For a precious few moments she was blind as a bat. It was in these crucial moments that she felt something tug on the aircraft.

         Her second indication that she was not alone was the sound of a man making a poor attempt to sing. Her ears throbbed to a butchered rendition of James Taylor’s Shower the People. It was a lovely song but the man singing it wouldn’t have won any Grammys for his efforts. Well at least Mr. Lottery winner was finally tying up her plane.

         She stuck her head out of the hatch and was ready to say something derogatory about his late arrival at the pier when she stopped dead in her tracks with her mouth hanging open. The man made Paul Bunyan look like Danny Devito in comparison. His arms were rippling with huge biceps. He pulled the plane over to the dock as if it were no heavier than a small fishing boat.

         She was still watching the man secure the plane when he finally noticed her in return. He looked up at her with the purest of crystal blue eyes. Amanda nearly swooned as she stared into them. God he was beautiful. What was this man doing in northern Canada in the middle of nowhere? He should have been working out at one of those body builder beaches in southern California.

         Mr. Lottery winner stood up when he had finished tying off the mooring line. The man was a towering six foot six inch mountain of muscle rolled up in a flannel shirt and a pair of Levis. Amanda was a thin, five foot seven inch tall woman with strawberry blond hair. She was actually hurting her neck as she gazed up at this mountain of a man. Maybe it would have been a good idea to bring her pistol outside. He could have overpowered her in an instant and she would have been powerless to stop him.

         Trevor Andersen walked over to her with the lumbering grace of a grizzly bear. He extended one of his huge paws out to her in a gesture of friendship. Amanda placed her still throbbing dainty hand inside of his and watched in amazement as it was swallowed by his grip. She was actually trembling slightly as he held it.

         “My name is Trevor.” The man said in the same deep voice that had been butchering the James Taylor song only a few moments before. “And you are?”

         “Me….I….I am Amanda Hardy. I have the supplies that you ordered.” She gestured toward the PBY. “If you give me a hand I will get your stuff unloaded.”

         “I would be glad to, Miss Hardy.” He stepped past her with a grace that belied his giant frame. With a gentle demeanor he entered the flying boat and began to pick up the containers that had his name stenciled upon them. A rather hot and bothered Amanda followed him into the aircraft; her eyes fixated upon the man’s rather tight rear end.

         He handed her one of the lighter packages as she stepped into the plane. It was the case of rather expensive French wine that she had loaded up at her base camp two hours before. For someone who had just won the lottery and looked like a middle linebacker he had good taste in wine. Côte Rôtie was a rather expensive wine that dated all the way back to the days when France was occupied by the Roman Empire.

         “Please take that down to the house. The front door is open.” Trevor asked in the sweetest of voices. “Just place it on the kitchen table.”

         Amanda stood there for a moment with a perplexed look. They knew each other for five minutes and this man was ordering her around? He phrased it as a request, but still. She watched the muscle man’s biceps flex as he lifted a box filled with power tools off of the floor of the airplane. She pictured herself being held in those strong arms. Perhaps she could carry his wine to the house for him. Christ, maybe she will even open one of the bottles and welcome him to British Columbia properly.

         She exited the plane and carried the crate of wine down the pier as she started to hum the same James Taylor song that Trevor was butchering when she first got here. There was a spring to her step that hadn’t been there when she left her home this morning. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter than ten minutes ago and she swore that the sudden distant cry of a wolf was actually her own savage heart crying out for this man.

         Amanda opened the front door of the log home and stepped inside to find a rather luxurious palace stuffed into a two bedroom house. To the left of the door was a luxurious living room furnished in expensive Victorian style furniture. The love seat looked as if it had come right out if the sixteenth century. The green end tables had been chiseled from marble. How did he get this stuff shipped up here? She was the only bush pilot for miles around.

         Amanda walked into the kitchen and placed the crate of wine upon the table. The table looked extremely expensive as well. It was also made of marble and looked as if it weighed a ton. On a whim she tried to lift up one end. She strained to even lift it up an inch. She felt as if she were trying to move a mountain.

         After attempting to rip the arms from her sockets Amanda turned her attention to the crate of wine. With delicate finesse she took her hunting knife from the sheath that was strapped to her belt. She cut into the cardboard and neatly removed the cover. Inside was six bottles of the famous French elixir. Tied to one of them was a note. Confused, she lifted the note from the bottle and examined it closely. It was addressed to her!

         Dear Amanda, thank you for delivering my supplies. Grab a glass from over the sink and bottoms up!

         She was stunned by this guy’s audacity. She had barely known him for five minutes and he was already trying to get her drunk. She angrily looked out the window as Mr. Andersen stacked another heavy box onto the end of the pier. She became mesmerized as his rippling muscles glistened in the sun. Well….maybe a little sip wouldn’t hurt. Besides it would be a couple of hours before she would be flying out of here. Her blood alcohol level would be lower by then. Maybe she could safely have one little glass.

         Amanda set the note to the side of the crate and selected a wine glass from over the sink. With gentle precision she lifted the glass off of the rack and flipped it over. She then set it down on the table. To her surprise there was another note taped to the inside of the glass. She sighed to herself and removed it.

          “The bottle opener is inside the corner kitchen drawer next to the refrigerator.”

         Again she looked out the window as she became appalled once more by the man’s audacity. She was ready to storm out of the house and jump back in the PBY. She was ready to fly….Oh God; he had taken his shirt off!  Amanda almost dropped the wine glass from her hands as she stared out of the window. She needed to find the….corkscrew….The note said that it was in the corner drawer. That was where the note said to look. Maybe she should look for it before Conan…..Trevor….came into the house.

         She tore herself away from the window and turned to the drawer. With fumbling fingers she yanked it open. It was easy to find the corkscrew. It was the only item in the drawer. She gently lifted it from its resting place as if she had just discovered the Holy Grail. In that moment the corkscrew was as precious as the finest of jewels.

         With delicate care she screwed the corkscrew into the bottle’s cork and pushed down upon its handles. After a tense moment the cork rose from the neck of the bottle with an audible pop. The aroma emitting from the wine bottle was intoxicating in itself. It was a wonderful bouquet that invaded her nose and begged her brain to taste the luxuriously red wine.

         Amanda poured the wine into her cup. She was lying to herself when she said that she would have only a sip. She filled the glass up to the brim. She fit every drop possible into the glass. Then with the delicacy of a bomb squad technician she lifted the glass to her lips. She sipped the red elixir and allowed its lovely flavor to run across her taste buds and down her throat.

         She was not really sure when the muscle bound Mr. Andersen had appeared behind her. She hadn’t even noticed him removing a second glass from the wine rack. She only knew that he was there behind her sipping his wine and wrapping his muscular arm around her slim waist. She felt the heat of the man’s body upon her back. She felt his warm breath upon the back of her neck. God, what was she doing here? Why was she allowing Trevor Andersen to touch her like this? She had met the man a mere ten minutes ago.

         She set her glass down and turned around one hundred eighty degreed within the circumference of the man’s open arms. Trevor looked at her with soft blue eyes that seemed to radiate with hot desire. Without a word the man lifted her delicate frame into his massively muscled arms. The wine glass was suddenly forgotten. The only thing that she wished to drink from at the moment was this man’s lips.

         She stroked the fingers of her right hand across his face. With a tenderness that surprised even her she kissed him on the lips. She wiggled her tongue inside of his mouth as if it were a trout on a fly line. She explored every inch of his tongue. She closed her eyes and concentrated upon the intense sensations of the kiss.

         Amanda wasn’t really sure when her scenery had changed. She only knew that Mr. Lottery winner was now laying her upon a bed that was covered in the most luxurious satin sheets. God, he was kissing the zipper open on her jump suit! He was removing her from the one piece coveralls with the most delicate of care. The blue vinyl suit fell from her body like yesterdays news. Her bare skin was now exposed to the slightly chilly air of the cabin. The only warm sensations were now that of Trevor’s mouth as he kissed ihis way down the length of her torso.

         In the next few moments underwear became a trivial thing for Amanda. Trevor had enticed its removal from her body the way a master thief entices gold from a safe. Her underwear was gone before she even realized what was happening. Her blue lace bra had been replaced by Trevor’s suckling lips. She gripped his shoulders with both hands as he brought first the left and then the right nipple to full erection.

         She wasn’t really sure at what point that this American had rolled underneath her. She only knew that she was back at the controls, riding this muscle bound Yankee for all that he was worth. Amanda felt as if she were on a bucking bronco as Trevor thrust up into her repeatedly. She put her hands up over her head and tried to reach for the log timber ceiling as he bounced her on his privates like a super ball. She moaned with delight as she got bounced faster and faster.

         She climaxed just as a North American timber wolf cried a lonely howl out somewhere in the forest. The howl echoed through her soul and made her feel wild and ravenous. She was one with nature. In fact she felt purified in that moment. Everything felt complete and right in the world. The wilds of British Columbia felt a little less lonely. She had found her alpha male and she had no intentions of ever releasing him.

         In the coming months Amanda Hardy ended each of her weeks with an extended visit to the private and very remote home of Trevor Andersen. The passionately erotic sex occurring there each week eventually evolved into a long and lasting relationship that included walks along the lakeshore and philosophical discussions conducted high within the mountains. She taught him the ways of the wilderness and he taught her a few things about her body that she would have never discovered upon her own.

         It turned out that Trevor had seen Amanda back in a nearby town while he was making arrangements with a Vancouver firm to transport his furniture to his new home. He had become intrigued and made some inquiries about the female bush pilot. He had arranged for her to deliver his supplies on the day that they first met. He had been planning to seduce her. What he didn’t realize at the time was that she was destined to become his wife. She was destined to become his alpha female.

         Trevor Andersen and Amanda Hardy were married within a year. Within three years of their marriage they had a daughter who they named Crystal Lynn. The child grew up to be a beautiful young woman who inherited her mother’s passion for flying. Rumor has it that Crystal now flies F/A-18 Hornets for the Canadian Air Force. Her parents tell anyone who will listen what a wonderful fighter pilot she is.

         One never knows what will be set in motion by a chance erotic encounter. Passion is to life like a rock slide is to a raging river. It tends to send the churning waters into new and wondrously unknown territory.