The Spinning Wheel
Chapter 2
By yoursandman
Hannah lay in a rumpled heap on her hotel bed having come harder than she could .
She carefully took off Willow’s bra and packed it in her suitcase, safely tucked away with her underwear. As she gathered the rest of her things she realized that she had left her credit card at The Spinning Wheel, and she was faced with a sickening thought; was this all a scam? Was the entire point of the evening to put an enormous charge on her credit card? Was that all that this had been, and were all of her feelings just, lies?
Hannah quickly packed up and checked out of the hotel. It only took a few minutes in her rental car to retrace her walk to the Spinning Wheel. She parked in the lot, it was just after 9 am, and there were a few cars there, people having breakfast at the popular restaurant. Hannah entered the familiar dining room and headed straight to the main bar, her eyes occasionally darting toward the restroom area, and the curtained off rooms beyond.
At the bar was a friendly looking middle aged man, “Can I help you?” He asked with a smile.
Hannah was nervous. Everything about the place in the bright yellow light of the morning was contrary to what she had felt in this very same place just hours ago. “Hi,” she stammered, “Ummm, I was here last night and I think I forgot my credit card.”
His smile never wavered, “Aww, don’t worry, you’re not the first to do that, I promise you. What’s your name?” He asked, reaching under the bar for a small box with an assortment of multicolored cards.
“Hannah”, she replied.
“Ah, here we go,” he said cheerily, handing her a card wrapped in a white receipt.
Hannah unwrapped the card and looked at the receipt, stealing herself to have an argument about “the way people do business around here”, and saw that the charge was $40 for dinner and a beer, and $50 for “Bar Service”.
That was it.
They hadn’t ripped her off, in fact Willow only getting $50, that was awful.
Hannah felt sick to her stomach, Willow must hate her, think she’s a cheap bitch from the city…
“So, can I leave a note, for Willow?” She asked sheepishly.
“Oh”, the bartender said, a puzzled look in his eye, “I suppose so…”
Hannah grabbed a bar napkin and took a pen offered by the man. She scribbled a quick apology, and now that she had her purse, unlike last night when she just had her ID and a credit card, she put three twenties on top and folded it up. “Please give her this”.
“Sure thing,” the man said cheerfully.
Hannah made her way to her rental car and began the long journey back home.
The sense of calm Hannah had felt after coming hard in her hotel room thinking about Willow faded slowly, so that by the time she reached her home she was longing for Willow with a dull ache. She greeted her family, and then managed to surreptitiously retrieve Willow’s bra from her suitcase before excusing herself to the bathroom. Once there she held the bra to her face, inhaling deeply, clenching the garment to her face and releasing herself to the intense feeling of Willow’s presence. She felt relief, and with relief came other feelings as well, feelings that frightened her.
For a while, in the days that followed, Hannah settled into a routine that allowed her to function. Every day she got up, performed her role as wife and mother, as well as going to work and doing her job, and each night, after her husband fell asleep, she would remove Willow’s bra from the ziplock bag she kept it hidden in and cuddle with it while she slept. This worked for a while, allowing her to carry on her life and still connect with Willow, until she became aware that whatever it was that was in the bra that came from Willow was fading away.
Hannah felt panic.
She couldn’t imagine her life without Willow’s presence soothing and comforting her. She looked up The Spinning Wheel online and the pictures on the web page made her feel a longing for what had happened there—and there was a phone number. She grabbed her cellphone and dialed the number with no idea what she was going to say.
“Spinning Wheel, how can I help you?” A cheery, youthful sounding woman said after two rings.
“Hi,” Hannah said, and then paused for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts. “Could I speak with, Willow?”
There was a moment of silence, “Who’s calling?” The woman replied.
“Hannah, I’m Hannah.”
“I’m sorry Hannah, I can’t put her on the phone, would you like me to give her a message?” The woman said pleasantly.
Suddenly, Hannah had an idea, “Yes,” she said, taking the initiative, “Please tell her that I have something of hers, and I want to get it back to her, my number is, 301 432 …”
Hannah kept her phone in her hand for the rest of the day, looking at it obsessively, making sure it hadn’t accidentally slipped into silent mode causing her to miss the call she knew was coming. She doodled the name Willow on a legal pad at her desk, drawing little Willow trees, writing her own name, and then Willow’s name.
And yet hour after hour went by and the call never came.
The next day she called again, forcing herself to sound casual and nonchalant as she gave the young woman the same message to give to Willow.
By the end of the next day she was crushed, no call, no relief, only emptiness. That night she held Willow’s bra, now just a piece of a memory for her, and silently wept while her husband slept soundly next to her.
The next few days Hannah dragged herself though a bleak landscape of sadness. Her husband tried to console her, her co-workers asked repeatedly if everything was ok, if they could help, but nothing could. Hannah wasn’t sure if she could go on.
On the third day a card arrived in the mail. It was hand addressed to her, using her full name. The return address was “The Spinning Wheel, Willow Creek, Kansas”.
As Hannah opened it and removed the single folded piece of paper inside it, she felt Willow. Willow had touched this, held it, Hannah felt a rush of excitement, of dizzying emotional engagement, her cheeks flushed and she perspired.
Unfolding the note it said,
15340 Calvert Road
Frederick, MD
Thursday the 5th
2:07 pm.
And that was it. Hannah googled the address and it was the Crofton Inn, a lovely hotel downtown that had been around for a hundred years and had recently been remodeled inside. It was elegant, and very expensive. Today was the 2nd, and Hannah knew exactly where she would be in three days.
Hope is a powerful thing, and hope restored enough of Hannah to rise up out of her depression and re-engage with her life. Her family breathed a collective sigh, her co-workers stopped worrying, and Hannah counted the moments until the 5th.
The first, and only, time Willow had seen her, Hannah had been wearing jeans and a t -shirt. This time, as Hannah approached the lobby of the Crofton Inn she wore a lovely sun dress, her hair had been fussed over to look casual yet perfect, and her makeup was the very best she could make it. Hannah entered the big ornate lobby lounge and as her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting she saw just a few people milling about and a couple of bored clerks at the front desk on the far wall from the doors. Hannah scanned the room again, slowly, and to her right tucked into the corner, was a group of high backed leather chairs. Just visible above the back of a chair that was facing away from the rest of the lobby was a lock of blond hair.
Hannah straightened her dress, took a deep breath, and walked over to the secluded sitting area. She went straight to the chair opposite the one where Willow sat without looking at her, and sat down. Only once she was seated did she look at Willow.
Hannah realized that she had been wise to avert her eyes until she was sitting, because her knees might have buckled.
Willow was wearing a tight black top, conforming to the lascivious curves of her body. Her breasts were barely contained. Below, she had on a very short pleated skirt, the hem high up on her smooth thighs. Willow’s blond hair was loosely tumbling around her shoulders, and her blue eyes glowed through her soft gaze.
“Hi,” she said, exactly as she had the first time they met.
Hannah stared longingly into her eyes, completely lost in the moment. “It’s so good to see you again.” She said a little dreamily.
After a long moment where Willow just sat, holding Hannah’s gaze, she said, “Pull your chair closer to me.”
Hannah rose and reaching under the front of her chair dragged it forward.
“Closer,” Willow said when Hannah had moved it halfway over. Hannah pulled it again.
“Closer.” Willow repeated until by the time Hannah sat down again their knees were almost touching.
Hannah’s mind began to fold. This close to Willow, after being deprived for so long, the effect of her presence was a sledgehammer. As she looked at her, Willow’s beauty became incandescent, a vision of female perfection. But the most powerful effect was emotional. Hannah felt her emotional connection to Willow wind itself around her heart, tighter and tighter. Her pupils dilated, her breath became shallow, her hands gripped the arms of the chair.
“It feels so good, doesn’t it?” Willow suggested, maintaining eye .
“Yes,” was all that Hannah could manage struggling to keep her eyes focused.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes…” Hannah breathed, but unsure how more was even possible.
Willow slowly reached up under her skirt, and dragged her hand between her legs, then she leaned across the space between them and laid her hand gently against Hannah’s face.
Hannah’s world fractured.
She drank the air that emanated from Willow’s hand. She felt everything in her mind break loose. She existed for this moment. Hannah lost track of herself, her location in space. She was filled to overflowing.
“Yes, take it in, all the way in.” Willow said as Hannah’s body spasmed once, twice.
Willow slowly drew her hand back and smiled at Hannah’s lost, dreamy expression. “Almost there.” She said softly.
Willow stood and took Hannah by the hand, drawing her up. Then she led her to the elevators.
Willow’s room was a large suite, and she led Hannah into it and closed the door. Hannah stood in the middle of the room, looking at Willow. “What’s happening to me?” Hannah said, her heart pounding in her chest.
Willow walked to her and placed her hand over Hannah’s heart, touching her below her breasts, feeling her pounding heart. Hannah’s eyes widened, Willow’s power hit her harder being this close, “Tell me what you want.” Willow said looking in her eyes.
“Take me…”, Hannah said, a little desperate.
Willow slid her hands around Hannah’s sides and up her back, pulling her close. She brushed her cheek against Hannah’s cheek and softly purred, “You want me to take you?”
“Yes,” Hannah gasped.
Willow slid her hand all the way down, caressing Hannah’s round ass. “You want me to take you?”
”Yes,” Hannah repeated.
”You’re under my spell,” Willow breathed into Hannah’s ear, nibbling at it with her soft lips.
”I am under your spell,” Hannah said, her vision blurring with lust.
“You feel so happy, so very happy,” Willow continued, brushing her lips up and down Hannah’s neck.
”’Yes, yes…” Hannah’s knees buckled and she started to crumple in to Willow’s arms.
Willow pulled her head back just enough to look into Hannah’s eyes, “Love me,” she said softly.
Hannah’s heart somersaulted, and she kissed Willow deeply, with all the love she could feel.
When the kiss finally broke Hannah reached back, unzipped her dress, and dropped it to the floor, offering her body to the object of her deepest desire. Then she held Willow as tight as she could, feeling her skin wherever it touched Willow’s skin tingle with pleasure.
Willow backed Hannah to the bed and laid her down on it, then stood up and slipped off her top, freeing her soft, warm, full breasts. Her thumbs worked her tight skirt down and she paused for a moment, wearing only soaking wet panties, and looked at Hannah, who moaned with need. Then she bent forward, her lips kissing Hannah’s thighs and working her way up, coming close to, but not kissing between her legs, even as Hannah arched her back to bring it closer to Willow’s mouth.
Willow climbed up Hannah’s body, kissing as she went, until their lips met, their tongues finding each other. Then Willow continued moving up until her panties were over Hannah’s face. Hannah was breathing in the scent as fast as she could, falling deeper and deeper into it. Hannah found herself trying to kiss Willow’s wet panties, lunging as Willow kept them just out of reach.
“Are you ready, pretty girl?” Willow asked, a little amused. “This will be a lot to feel.”
Hannah groaned, struggling to get closer to Willow’s sex.
Willow relented, and lowered her pussy onto Hannah’s face.
The scent of Willow’s warm, aroused pussy was every desire she had ever felt, but the taste was like starting a drug journey with Ketamine. She licked Willow’s panties ravenously until she managed to free her arms and pull them to the side, then it became her only purpose to drink every sweet drop of Willow’s dripping cunt. It was dark, warm, primal. Hannah’s consciousness was overridden by the need to have more of Willow, to have her inside, to be saturated with her essence. Her mind gouged new pathways, destroying bits and pieces of her identity. Every cell that was touched by Willow’s sexual arousal became hers.
Willow reached behind her back and stroked Hannah’s pussy, not for Hannah, Hannah was beyond her own needs, but because Willow enjoyed using her. Hannah’s body responded to being stimulated automatically, instinctively, Hannah’s hips gyrating and undulating as Willow fluttered her clit with her fingers.
Hannah eyelids opened and closed reflexively, and her arms twitched randomly. Her mouth was open, receiving as much as she could from the blond Goddess above her. Willow began moving her hips rhythmically, brushing her pussy up and down Hannah’s mouth and nose. Each rewriting Hannah’s mental code.
Willow kept playing with Hannah’s soaking wet pussy, swirling and flicking and penetrating her.
“Come for me pretty girl,” Willow cooed, and Hannah groaned and shuttered and cried out, releasing everything, and then Willow came, her orgasm filling Hannah’s greedy mouth, as she lapped up every trace of Willows come until all she could taste was her own tongue.
Willow smoothly climbed off of the woman she had taken, and kissed her lips, “Sleep now pretty girl, sleep and let it take you.”
Hannah dropped into deep sleep.
She awoke a few hours later, feeling fuzzy, tingly, and deeply content.
“Hello again, pretty girl. Go take a shower, we’re leaving soon.”
Hannah sat up, and a shadow crossed her face, “My family…” she said quizzically to herself.
Willow, paused what she was doing and came over to sit on the bed next to Hannah. “I don’t care about them,” she said, and taking Hannah under the chin she looked in her eyes, “And neither do you.”
Hannah felt something deep inside her disappear with a aching pull, like a splinter being removed.
She looked at Willow lovingly.