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The Rusty Goat

Online home of author Rodney Strange, alias 'The Rusty Goat'

Rodney Strange, author, entrepreneur, over-the-hill wanna-be cowboy, and west Texas' most eligIble bachelor.

Rodney Strange wrote under the pen name 'The Rusty Goat' for years!

I am an author. I have to remind myself of that sometimes. I've kept that part of me a secret to many people for a very long time. In fact, up until two years ago I never attached my name to any of my writings, disguised behind the mask of 'The Rusty Goat.' It was out of necessity at first. Those stories in the very beginning were about real live people, mostly crazy women, who had haphazardly crossed my path, most times only hours before the tales went live on the internet for all to see. So, you can see the need for secrecy. For years I have spun humorous stories based on my own adventures in life and share them with a vast online audience with my weekly blogs on the Rusty Goat website. I welcome you into my online home!

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Today's Blog Post and Other Passing Thoughts by Rodney Strange, author, entrepreneur, over-the-hill wanna-be cowboy, and west Texas' most eligIble bachelor.

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With author Rodney Strange, alias 'The Rusty Goat'
Strange Thinking
11/19/2017 09:34 PM
'The Window'


Continued from last week's story 

"And then I nibbled on her ear and she went off like a roman candle!" I flailed my arms wildly to accentuate my story, "she moaned and fell to her knees!"
Jacy Morrow listened intently, her big blue eyes fixed on me, and then replied, "Which is exactly where you wanted her, no doubt. Wow, I wish it were that easy for me..."
"Well, you probably haven't had the right people nibbling on your ear. Obviously, I'm pretty good at it if you'd like to experience..."
"You have a girlfriend! You can't go around nibbling on other women's ears!"
"Well, she's married so she really can't be my girlfriend."
"To a preacher, no less." Jacy rolled her eyes and glanced out the window toward the convenience store parking lot.
"Why do you keep staring out the window? Expecting your boyfriend?"
"No," she pursed her lips, "that woman has been sitting in her car just staring at us for the last ten minutes."
I glanced out the window and gasped a deep breath, "Oh my god, that's Deanne!"
I sprinted toward the door as Jacy muttered loud enough for me to hear.
"Creepy, creepy woman."
"Deanne!" I stammered as I stepped toward the convertible, my heart racing inside my chest, "What brings you to town?"
She lowered her sunglasses to the tip of her nose and glared up at me.
"That blonde woman in she your other girlfriend?"
"Jacy?" I glanced inside, "No, just Jacy. Just a friend."
She pushed the sunglasses back into place, her jaw clenched as she seemed to attempt to control her anger.
"I think you're a player. I think you have women lined up all over west Texas."
"Me? Naw, just you" I forced a chuckle and changed the subject.
"I'm pleasantly surprised. It's just Wednesday. Wasn't expecting to see you until Saturday. Nice car!"
"I told the car dealer in the city I wanted to take it for a test drive." her tone softening just a bit.
"l love that outfit you're wearing. Is it new?"
"Bought it at Dillard's," she responded, staring at herself in the rearview mirror, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "on my husband's credit card."
I searched for words to bring Deanne back to her usual bubbly self.
"Hey, do you want to go down to the Dairy Queen for ice cream?"
"No, I better get this car back. You know, Rusty, I'm really pissed off at you. I drove all the way down here to see you and you were not at home and when I finally do find you, you're with some blonde! I'm terribly upset!"
I watched her pull onto the highway with a forlorn look on my face. Then it dawned on me. I'd never told her where I lived. Even if I had, the odds of her finding some farmhouse down a dusty road out in the middle of west Texas were slim. I sighed, turning toward my pickup.

Our lips met and we kissed passionately, her body barely visible to me in the slightest light of the moon through the window of my bedroom. Deanne showed up at my door earlier in the evening, quite the person I had come to know when we had first met. The travesty of the past Wednesday had apparently never happened in her mind. I had cooked steaks on the grill and the two of us dined on ribeyes and baked potatoes, accompanied by some delightful conversation. With that past us, we now found ourselves embroiled in intense passion.
Deanne pushed away from me, slipping her blouse over her head, now wearing nothing but her blue jeans. She then worked feverishly to remove my shirt before pressing her warm body against mine. She tilted her head back, a signal that she desired my lips against her neck. Her breathing grew heavy. Near silent moans escaped her lips. She pushed me toward the bed, then onto it with force, her legs straddling me and she swept her hands across my bare chest. She lowered herself against me, her lower body moving like ocean waves against my groin.
Her rhythm grew faster as if keeping time with my beating heart. She threw her head back, mouth open in ecstasy. Her nails dug themselves into my flesh and I flinched in painful pleasure.
Suddenly she came to an abrupt halt, her face turned toward the window.
"Your window...why doesn't it have curtains or a blind?"
I turned my head toward the window and replied, "Truthfully, I was tidying up in here just before you got here and the curtain fell to the floor. I didn't have time to put it back up so I threw it in the closet. It's okay. We're way out here in the middle of nowhere. I promise you, in all my years of living out here, not a soul has ever wandered up in the dark."
She pulled herself away and stepped onto the floor.
"I have to go."
"What?" I reciprocated, watching her hastily dress as I sat up on the edge of the bed.
"I have to go," she repeated, grabbing her purse and disappearing out the door.
I listened to the sound of her driving away as I stared at the window, my mind in complete confusion. I rose from the bed and shuffled into the kitchen, returning with a hammer. In a matter of minutes, the curtain was in place, shielding the outside from what could have happened on this night. Laying the hammer on a nightstand, I signed a sigh of relief. True, sins had been committed tonight, but not that sin...the sin of adultery.

See Previous Posts From author Rodney Strange alias 'The Rusty Goat!'
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