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 there...is she your other girlfriend?"
"Jacy?" I glanced inside, "No, Jacy...is 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.
Continued from last week's story
The classic west Texas ghost town, I thought to myself as I drove into Petcock. On the south side of the road stood four abandoned storefronts and to the north was what appeared to be an old schoolhouse that has likely not seen a child since the Great Depression. Tall weeds bent almost double against a forceful wind that sent tumbleweeds scurrying down the empty roadway, some as large as a John Deere tractor. I spotted the only church in town just ahead and as Deanne, the preacher's wife had directed, stood a doublewide beside it. As she had promised, if I could find Petcock, Texas, finding her house would be simple.
As I pulled into the drive, my eyes surveyed the landscape. Other than the few dilapidated buildings, only a random mesquite tree or two rose above the flat horizon. The doublewide I now stood in front of was the only house within view. I knocked on the door and within seconds Deanne answered, wearing a form-fitting black dress and a huge smile.
"You found Petcock! I told you it was in the middle of nowhere. Come in out of the wind."
I stepped through the door and found myself awestruck.
"Wow, it looks like I just stepped into a 'Southern Living' magazine! This is amazing. You do have a gift for decorating."
She stood directly in front of me, her lips puckered. I laughed and gave her a peck on the cheek.
"I smell that roast and it smells delicious. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a home cooked meal?"
Deanne chuckled and motioned me toward the dining area.
"I just sat everything on the table. Come on in and eat!"
I busied myself filling a plate with roast and mashed potatoes, Deanne holding a bowl of brown gravy in one hand and green beans in the other.
"Save room for chocolate cake. You said chocolate was your favorite."
"Don't you ever get scared way out here?" I asked, washing down a bite of roast with a gulp of sweet tea.
"Scared? No, but I get really lonely. I won't be here much longer, though. This is the parsonage and the church was kind enough to let me stay until I find somewhere else. But when they hire a new preacher, and they are actively seeking one, I have to be out."
"So, what're your plans? Doesn't look like there are many houses to choose from out here."
"Oh, I'll have to relocate. I have no skills so don't know what I'll do for a job. All I ever been is a mother and a preacher's wife."
"I'd say you could land a job cooking! You are a fantastic cook, Deanna." I commented as I took a bowl of potatoes from her hand and refilled my plate.
"She cut her eyes toward me and smiled, "Maybe I just need to find someone to cook for, someone who appreciates a homecooked meal every night."
After we finished eating, I helped her clear the table, offering to help her with dishes.
"Oh no," she took my hand in hers and lead me into the living room, "surely we can find something better to do than wash dishes."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my lips toward hers. We kissed passionately, and then more. Deanne's breathing became rapid as I kissed her neck, my arms pulling her against me. I felt her hot breath against my neck as I teased her ear with my lips. She tossed her head back, uttering a moan. My hands dropped from her tiny waist to her round butt as I again kissed the nape of her neck. Her body pressed hard against me as her lips locked onto mine for a very long time. I ran my fingers gently up the back of her neck and through her hair. I felt her body shudder against mine.
Her entire body began to quiver and she went limp in my arms. She pressed her face into my chest as I literally held her up. She seemed to gasp for air as sweat formed on her forehead and then...
"Oh! Oh! Oh...I can't believe this is happening!"
She slipped from my arms onto her knees, me dropping down beside her as I eased her onto the carpet.
"Deanne, are you alright?" My eyes wide with alarm.
She continued to gasp, a smile of pure ecstasy on her face. She pulled her head up and looked into my eyes.
"That was it! I finally did it! The Big O! Oh, Rusty, you are amazing. You made me quiver places I never knew could quiver!"
I leaned against a coffee table, the ravenous woman resting her head in my lap.
"I thought you were joking when you told me you'd never had an orgasm the other night," I spoke softly, stroking her hair.
"No. I was married to a selfish, self-centered, man. I called him the minuteman. Wham bam and off to sleep. I have dreamed of this all my adult life and you made my dream come true! Maybe we can finish what we started next week, but we have to wait one more week!"
Deanne drifted off with her head in my lap as I caressed her arm. I studied the gorgeous woman while in deep thought, as she lay there on the floor, her head in my lap, her long dark hair flowing onto the carpet. Finally, I shook her gently and told her I had to go.
She walked me to the door, a chocolate cake in her hand.
"I really meant to cut this but...things got a little out of hand!" she giggled as she handed me the plate.
Our lips met and we again fell into a fit of passion. Deanne's body began to shake and she pushed me away.
"Oh no! I won't be able to stop this time! Go home!" she laughed and playfully guided me out the door.
As I drove through the darkness toward my humble home fifty miles away, I glanced down at the cake riding in the floorboard.
One sentence kept ringing in my ears as the road passed slowly beneath me, 'I was married...'
I shook my head. Not was married, still married. Regardless of what her preacher husband has done, she is still married, I told myself. Where we would likely go the next time we see each other would be a line I'd not crossed...and the thought would haunt me for an entire week. And there was something else...I just couldn't put my finger on it...yet.
Continued from last week's story
I shoved the empty plate to the side and exhaled.
"Oh wow, that may have been the best chicken fried steak I've ever eaten!"
Leaning forward and placing my elbows on the table, I gazed into the preacher's wife's sparkling green eyes.
"Deanne, tell me something about yourself that nobody else knows!" I grinned and chuckled.
She thought for a moment and a smile came over her face. She leaned forward and whispered.
"I'm forty-five years old and have never had an orgasm...ever!"
"Argh!" I ducked my head to hide my reddened face, laughing uncontrollably, "I can't believe you told me that!"
"Your turn!" she spoke softly while playing with her bangs.
"Well, I certainly can't top that, but I drank my first beer on the front steps of a Baptist church."
"Oh my, God's gonna get you for that! How old were you?"
"I was fifteen. I found a can of beer in a ditch and temptation overcame me. And I'm certain God has not forgotten!"
Deanne gazed around the restaurant.
"How did you find this place? It's so elegantly decorated. Interior design is my passion. If I could have one dream come true, it would be to become an interior decorator."
"Yeah, it was one of the first homes built in the city in the early nineteen hundreds. Someone bought it and turned it into this. See, dreams come true. You might become a world famous decorator yourself, you know."
"Yeah and no. That would take some college and I can barely afford to feed myself after my deadbeat preacher husband ran off with the church treasurer. So Rusty, do you really think you can teach me to dance tonight?"
"Never met a woman I couldn't teach something." I grinned as I rose from my chair, "Come on, let's find out!"
The preacher's wife was a natural on the dance floor and had her steps down pat within the first hour. We danced until our feet gave out and found ourselves contently engaged in conversation the remainder of the night, sipping 7-UP and occasionally glancing toward the crowded dance floor. When Deanne wasn't looking, I glanced at her. Dressed down in a pair of Wranglers and a plaid shirt, she, like the restaurant we had dined at, had a charming elegance about her. Heavily adorned in turquoise jewelry, she looked like she had just stepped off the ranch for a night on the town, I thought. She was indeed a prime example of the cream of the crop of all the Texas women I'd ever met.
As I walked Deanne to her car sometime after midnight, I analyzed the evening I had spent with her. Nope, nothing wrong with this official first date. I gave it a perfect ten. Reaching her car, we awkwardly paused, as folks on their first date tend to do.
"Tired of me yet, cowboy?"
"Oh, hell no!" I responded before checking myself, "Oh, I'm very sorry. I spoke a curse word in front of a preacher's wife."
She giggled, "I accept your apology. And if there are more lights like this one ahead of us, I might just let you talk dirty to me someday."
The preacher's wife leaned against her car, wrapping her arms around my waist and pulling my body against hers.
"Um, Rusty, I've never done anything like this before. I only dated one man in my life, my husband, so this is a very new experience for me. Don't judge me too harshly if I make a misstep along the way, okay. I really like you and I don't want to blow this."
I peered into her eyes in the yellow glow of the streetlight and responded, "I really like you, too. Honestly, I tried to find some flaw in you all evening and nothing!"
"So," she hesitated nervously, "Why don't you come to my place next Friday night. I'm a damn good cook, not my first time to say damn, by the way. I'll cook a roast and all the fixins' and may even make you a cake. What's your favorite cake?"
"Chocolate and I'll be there Friday night...if I can find Petcock, Texas."
I'll call you later in the week and give you directions," she grabbed my shirt and pulled me even tighter against her body, "Kiss me goodnight. Kiss me like you mean it!"
Our lips met in the dimness and we kissed passionately, Deanne breathing heavily with the tiniest moan escaping her lips as I slowly pulled away.
"Oh...oh...oh!" she seemed to pant for air, "That might just get me through to Friday night!"
I turned and headed into the darkness, pausing to look over my shoulder one more time.
"Drive safe, preacher's wife!"
I turned completely around to face her.
"No more preacher's wife! From this moment forward, I am going to live my life the way life should be lived. You in?"
"Definitely!" I grinned and walked away.
"I am definitely in." I muttered to myself, "Definitely."
"Word around town is you go country dancing quite a bit." her Hispanic accent wafted gently into my ears.
She batted her big brown eyes as she handed my receipt and my debit across the counter.
"And some say you are an excellent dancer?" she smiled and propped herself on her elbows, a hint of cleavage flashing as bright as her eyes.
"Well, there's some truth to all of that." I grinned as I fumbled for the wallet stuffed in the back pocket of my Wranglers.
"Do you ever go to ladies' night on Tuesdays? I'm going tonight. You should come dance with me."
"Naw, I didn't know about ladies' night. You'd dance with me?" I eyed her with faux suspicion.
With a nod of her head accompanied by a big smile, I made up my mind that I'd just have to dance with this beautiful little filly on this very night.
I'd had my eye on this girl named Maria ever since she went to work at the Rocking Rooster Feed Store, not because I ever dreamed I ever had a chance of landing a dance with her, but because she was easy on a man's eyes...smoking hot, actually. As I stepped into the almost empty bar that Tuesday night, my eyes darted around the room in search of my Maria and within seconds I spied her rocking some daisy dukes, a plaid shirt tied in a knot above her belly button, and topped off with a straw hat. My heart fluttered at the thought of holding her in my arms out on the dance floor.
"Maria!" I smiled as I approached her.
She turned her attention away from some guy she was talking to and reciprocated with her own smile, though not as warm as those she had shared with me earlier that afternoon.
"Oh, Rusty...hi. This is Marcus. We went to high school together and have not seen each other in years!"
We exchanged handshakes and I proceeded to stand there totally unnoticed while the two of them became engrossed in catching up. After what seemed like an hour I wandered off to find a cold beer. I bet myself a beer that they'd be gone when I returned and I won that bet.
I sulked over to an empty table like a freshly neutered country mongrel. The longer I sat staring at an empty dance floor, the moodier I got. I had driven forty miles on a Tuesday night just to dance with the beautiful Maria and here I sat, all broken hearted with a lukewarm beer in my hand.
"If it seems to good to be true," I muttered, "Should've known better!"
I sighed and looked around at the two dozen or so women sitting with their girlfriends. None of them appeared to be looking for a man. I crooked my head over my shoulder and spied two women sitting directly behind me, engaged in conversation. I had wasted a half a tank of gas and three bucks on a hot Coors Light and I figured I might as well throw myself under a bus as well.
"Hey, ladies." I flashed a smile as I approached their table.
Both women paused in mid-conversation, their mouths open as I tipped my hat. They flashed side glances at each other and gave me their full attention.
"That dance floor looks mighty lonely and I was wondering if one of you would give me the pleasure of a dance?"
My eyes focused on a black-haired, green-eyed and extremely attractive woman.
She exposed the whitest teeth I had ever seen in a bar and extended her hand, "Hi! I am Deanne and this is my newfound friend, Claire. We met earlier at the Walmart and decided we should do something wild and crazy tonight. By the way, we noticed you sitting in front of us and frankly, that dance floor doesn't look nearly as lonely as you. Neither one of us know how to dance, but you're more than welcome to sit here with us."
I eagerly accepted her invitation, pulling up a chair and giving a wave to a waitress for another beer, cold preferably.
"So, you girls come here often?" I asked as I gave the waitress a five.
"Oh no! This is my first time in a bar and Claire says she hasn't been out in ten years. In fact, this beer sitting here is my very first ever! And it tastes nasty! I guess I have always lived a sheltered life. We're both about to go through a divorce. We're really just moms of college kids, spreading our wings, so to say."
I giggled at her glaringly obvious naiveness in worldly matters such as inviting some random strange man to sit with her in a bar, but I decided I liked the woman and she was attractive.
An hour or more of good conversation had passed when I decided it was an appropriate moment to pop the question.
"So, I don't mean to be nosey, but do you really think your marriage is unsalvagable?"
"Oh yes, definitely! You see, my husband was the pastor of the Petcock Pentecostal Church. You know where Petcock is? Fifty miles due west of here, ten miles from the New Mexico border. Anyway, he ran off with the church treasurer and all of the church's money...Colorado, I believe. So, no. After twenty-five years of marriage, we are done!"
Deanne waved her hands in disgust and shook her head.
I digested her statement with an uncomfortably long pause, then asked, "So, you're a preacher's wife?"
She nodded with a look of embarrassment on her face, "Yep, a preacher's wife...in a bar...drinking a beer and talking to some strange cowboy."
I don't know where I come from sometimes and I sure don't understand how my little mind works. Perhaps it is the unyielding sense of adventure, but without even a moment's hesitation, I reached out and touched her hand.
"A preacher's wife. So, what are you doing next Saturday night 'cause I'd like to take you to dinner."
I drove down a dark highway later that night with a smile on my face and a phone number in my pocket. But there was an inner turmoil deep inside of me. I sighed and tried to shrug it off. If a man's gonna sin, he may as well sin big, I reckoned. I waved my had and spoke out loud to no one in particular.
"If she wants to spread her wings then I'm just the man to teach her how to fly!"
(To be continued)
Ol' Marshall Dillon and Miss Kitty sat and talked to each other for twenty years and he never so much as got a peck on the cheek. He seemed happy with the way things were...I figure because every now and then on a Saturday night he snuck over to a saloon on the other side of town and caught a dance or two with a few saloon girls. As 'Should Have Been A Cowboy' blared over the speakers above the dance floor, I found my mind wandering. Jacy Morrow and I were like Miss Kitty and Marshall Dillon...just talk, no action. And thus, here I sat, in a bar on a Saturday night hoping for a dance with a saloon girl or two.
It was that backwoods Kentucky accent that caught my attention. I glanced over at the table next to me.
"I can't believe you ain't gonna dance with me!" her head turned toward me, wild eyes gleaming in the neon lights, "Mister, do you dance?"
"Well, yes I do." I cautiously responded.
"Then get your ass up and dance with me!"
She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the dance floor. Beneath the dancing neon lights, she looked fairly decent, mid-forties I guessed but her face told of a hard life.
"What about your man over there?" I asked, giving her a spin on the dance floor.
"Oh, he ain't my man. He's my neighbor. My man's dead. Hells Angels killed him ten years ago."
I digested that tidbit of information as the song ended and we headed back toward our tables. The neighbor stood in the dim light, his arms crossed.
"I think I'm going to head out. She's all your's now buddy. Have fun!"
"Well, thanks for nothin'," she retorted as she moved an oversized purse over to my table."
And that was that. She was all mine for the night. I motioned toward the dance floor and she took my hand and followed.
"What's your name?" I asked, peering into near black eyes."
"Bonnie, but everyone calls me the Black Widow...she pronounced it 'widder.' That's 'cause everyone I meet winds up dead."
"So, do you have kids?" I asked.
"Yep, thirteen...five of 'ems dead, though. Don't know where the rest of 'em are."
The song ended and I walked her back to the table. She scooted a chair up right beside me.
"I'm forty-six...don't look that old, huh?" She took a swallow of her beer, "I look pretty good with my clothes on...but after thirteen kids, my belly looks like bubble wrap."
With that, she hiked her strapless silky black blouse up higher than she should have and tucked it under her chin. She grabbed the skin of her abdomen and began playing with it as if it were Play-do.
"See, I just have to fold it up and cram it in my britches. I got some pretty good lookin' legs and my ass ain't half bad. I'll show ya later."
I looked her in the eye..."Umm-humm...so, what do you do...you know, a job?"
She shook her head, "Oh, I can't work. I got shot in the leg a few years back. I used to work for the FBI."
I snickered..." and what did you do for them?"
"Oh, I snitched...I knew where to find all the people they were looking for...hey, I still got handcuffs."
She reached under the table and dug around in her purse for quite some time then plopped a pair of handcuffs on the table.
"Pick 'em up...feel how heavy they are."
I hefted the cuffs...they were indeed well built...and may have been lifted right out of Marshall Dillon's jail...they were that old.
"So, do you have the keys to these."
"Naw, I lost 'em somewhere."
She reached back into her purse and produced a large butcher knife, laying it on the table. I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy.
She continued to tell her stories. "I been in prison three times...got stabbed in my right thigh. Got in a fight over someone trying to take my woman..."
She was still rambling on about her prison experiences. I found my mind wandering off...I wish Miss Kitty were here...I wouldn't be caught up with this phycho woman. WWMD do? (what would Marchall Dillon do...) I knew there was no way I was stepping out of this bar with this chick...let alone take her home...let alone...I shuddered as I pictured myself in handcuffs with this crazy person standing over me holding a butcher knife.
"Because everyone I meet winds up dead..." echoed in my ears.
"So, are we gonna dance some more or you just wanna take me back to your place and do the dirty? 'Cause I'm good with either or. That is what folks come to bars for, right? Those are your two options."
The Black Widow took my hand and shoved it into her crotch, her bony upper body rubbing against my arm. Before I could pull away her tongue found the back of my throat. I withered in fear as my eyes focused on her other hand gently caressing the butcher knife on the table between us.
"Hey, listen...I have to go. It's a long ways back home, forty...I mean, a hundred miles."
I lurched from the table, her hand still maintaining a firm grip.
"Well, I don't mind coming home with ya!"
"No! No! I am...not available!" I almost shouted as I pulled my hand free.
I dashed through the crowded bar, seemingly in slow motion, finally reaching the front door. I fumbled for my keys, unlocking my pickup, and dove inside. The key struggled to find the ignition. And then there was a tap on the glass.
My eyes widened in fear as I stared at the Black Widow standing outside my pickup, butcher knife raised. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she spoke.
"You never even told me your name, cowboy!"
As I stammered my reply the glass shattered, handcuffs walloping my skull. Through blurry eyes, I saw the flash of the knife as it made its way toward my chest...
I lurched into an upright position as the ringing of my cell phone brought me back to safety. My heart pounded in my chest as sweat dripped from my forehead.
"I just wanted to wish you a Happy Halloween! You sound out of breath! Have you been doing the dirty?"
"No I...uh, dozed off watching a scary movie. I'm really glad you called!"
"Ahh, what a sweet thing to say. Hey...you're not scared out there all alone on Halloween night, are ya?"
Regaining my composure, I couldn't help but smile.
"Why? Are you going to come out and keep me company?"
That's my Miss Kitty!
Caution: This article contains sexually suggestive material. Continued from last week's story 'Dirty Dancing'
She answered the door wearing a black sports bra, a pair of really short red shorts, and a red Texas Tech ball cap perched on her blonde head.
"Hiiieee! Oh, Rusty, I am so excited you're here! I've been cooking a Yankee pot roast all day..."
Jenny paused to catch a breath and then spontaneously grabbed my shirt, pulling me into her puckered lips. Her tongue tickled the roof of my mouth as she moaned, finally breaking away, throwing her head back as she uttered an almost inaudible groan.
"Ever since last night I've been so worked up! You really know how to ring a girl's bell, cowboy!"
"I had a super time dancing with you last night, Jenny. It was...you know...wow!"
She giggled as she took my hand and led me into the living room.
"Supper will be awhile. Texas Tech is playing Oklahoma. You sit down and watch the game and I'll get us a beer."
My eyes darted around the large living room, stylishly decorated. An overstuffed leather couch sat in the center of the room facing the largest television I'd ever seen. As Jenny trotted off toward the kitchen, I quickly became engrossed in the football game.
I was vaguely aware she had entered the room as the Red Raiders made their third touchdown. Her arm appeared from behind me, a cold beer in her hand. I took the beer without taking my eyes off the TV, and then a leg swung over the back or the couch, and just as Oklahoma began a fifty-yard run, she plopped down hard in my lap.
"Hey, I can't see the game," I protested as my eyes focused on the two things blocking my view. My heart rate kicked into overdrive as I realized Jenny was totally naked.
"You just peek over my shoulder at that TV while I give you a lap dance, cowboy."
Well, it wasn't that great of a game anyway and within minutes we found ourselves in her bedroom, then under the sheets, then on top of the sheets, then sheets in the floor. Grabbing, groping, pinching, ouch...biting...okay, enough of that. Down to business.
When it comes to that point, we men are on a mission. Women may think we only operate with a small part of our body, but us guys are all aware that from this point forward our entire body must work as a team to succeed in our mission. So, that moment had arrived...it was time 'TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO MAN HAS GONE BEFORE...well, this guy had never gone before.
(Star Trek theme plays briefly)
Captain Kirk: "Mr. Sulu, take us into the black hole."
Sulu: "Aye, Captain...entering now."
Spock: "Captain, our sensors indicate we have entered a black hole of far greater dimensions than has ever been discovered."
Kirk: "Proceed with caution Mr. Sulu. It is our mission to discover new galaxies."
Spock: "Captain, sensors show no end to this hole, furthermore they are unable to detect the sides of the black hole. This is, without a doubt, the largest black hole in the universe."
Captain: "Scottie, ahead full thrust."
Scottie: "Aye, captain, but we are unable to make any headway."
Spock: "Captain, sensors have discovered debris ahead. Our database shows it to be a 1969 Ford Mustang...there are human remains inside."
Kirk: "Scottie, take us to warp speed."
Scottie: "She's givin' us all she's got, captain...we're losin' power fast!"
Kirk: "Sulu, fire photon torpedoes dead ahead."
Sulu: "Captain, unable to fire torpedoes...we've lost power."
Spock: "Captain, it is illogical to proceed...we must abort the mission."
Scottie: "Captain, we're breakin' up!"
Kirk: "Beam me up, Scottie...!"
(The next day)
I grumbled as I popped the trigger of the gas nozzle, "I never can stop on twenty even!"
Trudging across the parking lot toward the convenience store, my troubled mind continued to thrash the events of the night before as it had all day. A bell jingled as I entered the store and my eyes locked on a fine hiney that could only belong to Jacy Marrow. She turned her head toward me, her blonde ponytail almost swishing, as she paused her chore of shining the chrome on the burrito warmer. A look of disgust came into her eyes.
"Well, how was it?"
"How was what?" I responded with irritation. All I wanted was a Dr. Pepper, not the third degree from Jacy.
"How was last night? You know, the sex."
"Annoyed, I grunted, "It's none of your business. What makes you think I had sex?"
She stepped toward me, pushing my hat back.
"Because it's written all over your forehead," her finger poking my forehead, "it says, 'I had sex last night..."
She squinted her eyes and drew her face closer, her nose almost touching mine.
"...'with some tramp named'...what's her name? It's smudged." Her fingernail raked across my forehead as she pulled herself away, "So...how was it?"
I sighed heavily and looked down at the floor, "Worst I ever had, actually."
A gleam came into her eyes, "Well Rusty, men your age often experience premature ejact..."
"That's not it!" I loudly protested, clenching my teeth.
"You didn't ring her bell," she nodded to reaffirm her statement, "I've often wondered that if you and I ever do date, if that could...well, regardless of what they say, size does matter.
I felt the blood boil into my eyeballs."
Just as I opened my mouth, an elderly woman entered the store. I bit my lip and pulled Jacy's face against my cheek, whispering in her ear. She pulled away, wide-eyed.
"You mean they're not all the same?" she stammered.
I shook my head like a wet dog.
"Oh my," she held her hand against her chest, "I never knew. Like I need something else to add to my list of insecurities."
"Miss, I'm ready to pay for my milk!" The old lady tapped her cane impatiently.
I stood behind the woman and as she turned and headed for the door, I pointed to the soda machine.
"I just need a Dr. Pepper."
Okay, what size?" Jacy struggled to focus, still reeling from her new found knowledge.
"Small." I retorted, squinting my eyes.
"Sure you don't want a large?"
"Small! I like them small! Give me two of 'em!"