JonDlundyn Parker adventure # 5
November 19th 2006 20:26
Roscoe's Camper
CHAPTER 5
PICKING UP THE TRAIL
In the car park of the Pelican Bay Hotel, Roscoe’s Volkswagen camper van had the windows misted up. The CD player was blowing cool jazz that could be heard outside the van. Despite the beefed up suspension designed for rough roads, the van was bouncing alarmingly. Inside a cosy glow emitted from the several candles Roscoe had lit. An oil burner wafted the smell of Ylang Ylang and camphor. On the floor was a pile of Karen’s clothes and neatly hung up on a clothes peg was Roscoe’s black and white bouncer’s suit, topped with a pair of his black-laced knickers.
Karen was on her knees and elbows with Roscoe’s lean bare flanks beating a rhythm between her legs. His giant hands held the cheeks of her arse as she leant back hard against the ramming she was getting. Her breasts, free of any restriction, swung in rhythm to the sex. Roscoe’s shaved scalp glistened with fine beads of sweat and his eyes were fastened on the hourglass figure splayed out in front of him. The aroma drifting up from Karen swirled around him urging on his desire. Several times Karen groaned and shivered. Her face was pressed side on to a satin pillow at the head of the queen size bed. Her hair was draped around her face and her eyes were shut, not tight just shut. A small smile played around her lips. On Roscoe’s next backstroke she slipped from under him quickly grasping his shaft in her hand. She stroked it expertly and Roscoe could hardly tell what had happened except that Karen was now face up to him and sliding down between his loins. Her breasts pressed up and enveloped his scrotum and still she manipulated his shaft. Then giving in to his desire Roscoe arched his back and let his juices fly just as she reached into his anus with a digit. Karen played with him like a hose, all over her throat and cheeks. As the surge died off she licked his shaft till it turned flaccid. She then eased Roscoe down beside her on the huge bed, laying his head in the crook of her arm with the soft skin of her breast against his shaved head and stroked him till he snored.
In the morning Roscoe had opened the van doors and set up a collapsible picnic table on the ground. He and Karen sat eating breakfast. She was wearing his silk bathrobe that was more like a Japanese Samurai coat and he wore a towel wrapped around his waist and a beaming smile. He had prepared scrambled eggs with finely chopped shallots and button mushrooms. This was on buttered toast and topped with thin sliced smoked trout and a small spoonful of salmon eggs glistened in the sun. A simple sprig of dill garnished the meal. A plunger of coffee set the aroma around the picnic table. “Roscoe, you are an incredible man. You make love like a warrior and cook like a gourmet. Your music is just so in tune with what goes on in my head and your home is spotless!” Karen reached over and tried to cover one of his meaty fists with her own delicate hand. “Yeah, my home is small, but it is all I need. When I’m not working in the pub I’m usually out with Lundyn either diving, sailing fishing or flying. We travel a fair bit with his job. So I don’t really have time to grow a garden or anything like that.” Roscoe looked lovingly at the red coloured Volkswagen camper. It had a pop top roof which gave him full head room, A queen size bed which was adequate for his large frame and had room for one or two more. He smiled as he remembered more of last night. There was a small gas cooker with an oven, water pressure at the hot water tap and a small entertainment console that held his cds, a black and white television and an am/fm radio. He had fitted the driver’s cabin out with marine band radios so he could stay in touch with his many boating friends. The engine was a 2.1 litre job and got the old girl around quite nicely. He had a small annexe that pulled out of the side of the van that gave him shelter from the burning sun or rain showers. His guitar and saxophone were within easy reach at all times.
Roscoe now reached for the guitar and after strumming a few rudimentary chords to check the tune of the instrument he proceeded to play out a lovely Spanish ballad. Karen sat at the picnic table and held her coffee mug in both hands. She listened enraptured as this big beast of a man delicately picked out the most impossible tune from the guitar. He finished the ballad with a wild strumming of flamenco chords, which sent a chill down Karen’s back. This man was incredible!

Roscoe drove Karen back to her unit in Toronto where they again had sex. She could not think of this as lovemaking. With Roscoe it was pure animal behaviour, but what an upside there was to this man. She had long forgotten her husband even though he was still not buried. She was not really falling for Roscoe. She was too tough minded for that but she was caught up in the utter charm of the man. He made her tingle and she could not take her eyes off the powerful way he moved his body just doing simple things like opening a door or picking up a bag of groceries. They had shopped before they arrived back at Karen’s to top-up Roscoe’s small fridge and his wine supply. The modest cellar he kept in the van was badly depleted during last night’s ribaldry. “What are your plans for today?” she asked him. “Are you busy?” “Yeah.” replied Roscoe. “I’m doing a job with Lundyn out at sea.” “Oh, I was hoping to meet him and say thank you properly.” she said.
“Well maybe you can come out with us. It’s only a short trip. I’ll give him a call and pick you up in about an hour. OK?”
Lundyn picked them up at the Swansea wharf. He was driving his day launch and was semi dressed for his dive. He gave Roscoe a playful punch on the shoulder and reached out and took Karen’s offered hand to shake. “Hi Karen, it’s good to see you again. Has Roscoe been looking after you?”
“He has been the perfect gentleman,” replied Karen.
“Then you are really in for it aren’t you?” teased Lundyn. Karen did not demurely look down at her feet, she reached over and rubbed Roscoe’s flat belly and said, and “I’m in for anything this guys into.” Lundyn laughed lightly and engaged forward gear on the little Yanmar 12horse powered diesel. The launch shot off the wharf and he eased it into the middle of the stream. They ran under the Swansea bridge and out to sea. The hand-held Garmin GPS had the co ordinates of the dive already marked in. It showed their speed, time to the mark and height off the water. “We have about an hour to the site Roscoe; do you want to drive while I knock up a lunch?” Roscoe nodded and took the helm, nosing the launch expertly over the swell running at the entrance bar. Thirty minutes later Lundyn reappeared with a plate of Japanese Norri rolls. They were wrapped around fresh tuna, smoked salmon avocado and tiger prawns. There was a light soy sauce and powerful homemade wasabi sauce. The wasabi left Karen's sinuses gasping for relief but she came back for more.
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