Just Another Elysian Sidetrip

Fade-in.

It took jumping off a ship, stealing an airplane, and even some extreme mountain climbing; but in the end, as any well-respected film aficionado knows, the dashing Robert Conway, portrayed by an equally dashing Ronald Colman, rediscovers his Shangri-La in Frank Capra’s classic, Lost Horizon.

Pity, Mr. Conway didn’t have Tasha Felding as his travel guide.  Oh, he would have had to still jump off a ship and all, but with her in the driver seat, he would have had a lot more fun, not to mention sex.  If there was ever a person with the divine gift of stumbling, tripping, or backstepping into some erotic Elysian journey, vacation,

excursion, or even a short sidetrip, it was one Natasha Marie Goldberg Felding.  And anyone within her realm of that moment of stumbling, well, they just needed to hold on for the ride, as her three college roommates Elizabeth, Dawn, and Miranda quickly discovered.

A couple of hours later, with Meatloaf’s Bat Out of Hell blaring from her tape player, she was off and running.  By the time Meatloaf was seducing his date in Paradise by the Dashboard Light, she was exiting the 405 and entering 101, aka the Ventura Freeway, which obviously meant it was time for America’s Greatest Hits and a listen to Ventura Highway.  Entering highway 33, she opted for some Uriah Heap, especially Easy Livin’.  It was while rewinding this song that Tasha knocked over her iced tea and recalling what Jacob had said about taking care of the car, she pulled over to wipe it clean.

She was about to reenter the road when she noticed that she was the only car around, which was quite uncommon for this time and place.  Figuring that there had to be some higher purpose for this, she leaned back and placed her feet up on the steering wheel so she could enjoy the serenity of it all.  Suddenly feeling a little wicked, she turned up the volume a bit, stretched her arms up and then brought them down to her knees, and slowly slid them up to her inner thighs.  Giggling a little, she almost wished that Jacob hadn’t presented her with such a fine bon voyage gift.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

Tasha must have broken some Guinness World Book record with her jump before turning to the inquiring stranger.   “Yes, I’m fine,” she stammered before realizing that he too, was fine.  Quite fine as a matter of fact.  She quickly surmised that he must have been in his early thirties, about 5’8”, medium built, but no stranger to nautilus, brown hair, long in the back, shiny blue eyes, and a mustache which somewhat camouflaged what must had been a severe case of acne.  He was attired in a white t-shirt, at least one size too small under a black leather jacket, and a pair of jeans which he probably put on with a crow bar.  In his arm was a helmet.  Tasha discreetly glanced behind and was not surprised to see a Harley-Davidson.

“Better be careful, lady.  It’s hard to stay anywhere near the speed limit with Uriah Heep pumping the adrenaline.”  She made a move to change the tape.  “Now, wait, I didn’t say be to a fanatic.  I said just be careful,” he advised, winking at her.  She thought about the conversation she just had with her husband and wondered if this was going to be the test.  But before she could worry even more, the son of Bronson sauntered back to his bike and mounted it.  She was about to pull out when he pulled up beside her.

“Bachman Turner Overdrive would sound good, too.”

She laughed and pulled out her BTO tape from the glove compartment.  “I think you and I are on the same wavelength,” she said in all innocence.

“I know we are,” the stranger smiled.  And Tasha knew he was not referring to their similar taste in classic rock.  Winking again, he put on his helmet and headed off into the horizon.

Tasha watched his departure with a mixture of relief and disappointment.

“Fade-out,” she sighed.