"am i going too fast carlee?"

"no jason, you're doing just fine." i reached down and grabbed his balls. jason played with my butt, until i was ready to scream. i'd never felt anything quite so good. "you're hurting carlee!" he shouted. i was, i suppose, but i could devour him at this moment. "shit! i'm about to cum!"

"it's alright baby, so am i!"

"go on, don't hold back jason!" why were we yelling at each other? i started before i felt jason's first squirt. it was hot and it made me cum that much harder. my god in heaven. i bucked and bucked, and i was full. i kissed him and ran my fingers through his hair. we were both sweaty and i could smell us, anyone could, if they just stuck their head in the front door. i looked down to see if we were smoking.

"i've never experienced anything like that in my entire life carlee." a convert, although i really didn't believe that jason was gay.

"get up baby, i want to nibble you, if it's alright." i straddled him and leaked all over his flaccid dick. "want it back?"

"getting it back." jason smiled. i crawled between his legs and savored the aroma. my god, i could sure do with another round with meat. i licked and sucked and was giving him a thoroughly delicious bed bath.

"you're salty jason."

"and you're getting me hard again angel." music to my ears. "i hope you take birth control pills carlee, i came enough to repopulate the earth." i just licked and smiled, but he didn't get hard. i lay naked beside jason. he kissed me and put his arm around my neck. "i really am salty," he said, and licked his lips.

"jason, being with you tonight has been wonderful."

"for me too baby."

"you are just what i needed." jason grinned. "hey, let's make a drink and go down to the boat dock, cool our feet in natural water."

"sounds great," he said. i had to tell jason that clothes were not necessary in my little corner of the world. he pondered for a moment, then we made a nightcap and strolled to the dock, hand in hand. "what if we step on somethin' carlee?"

"i vacuum this path every day jason," i replied. we drank and laughed and played in the water with our feet. "you know, there are channel catfish in here big enough to eat us both." jason's eyebrows went up. "true," i said. "why only yesterday my dad's friend was here, caught a ten pound cat right off this dock"

"he couldn't have eaten much of us, carlee."

"i'm talking deep water jason, bottomless pits."

"carlee, don't you feel uncomfortable running around out here without any clothes on?"

"not with you jason, it's very private here."

jason smiled, then kissed my neck. "i've got to go carlee, work comes early tomorrow."

"i know jason, but thanks for tonight, can we do it again?"

"gosh yes, any time you want."

sleep was fitful, i kept waking up. 'anytime you want' kept racking through my brain. i gave up at two am, and fixed a large glass of strawberry hill and wandered in my night clothes, out to the boat dock. mars dominated the sky, near the moon, i just had to get a new telescope. i'd had my eye on a newtonian reflector for weeks. the price was astronomical, i must talk to mikey. when i was through communicating with the cosmos, finishing my wine, i went back inside and went to sleep in my own bed. i awoke refreshed, showered, washed my hair, got into a pair of haynes briefs that had 'hot bottom' written on them, a matching tee that had arrows on the front and back, pointing to my butt. all white, but the lettering was red. i put on my soft moccasins, and ground some fresh coffee. the damn coffee cost eight dollars a pound, and wasn't half as good as hardees. i sat down and started to blow dry my hair. suddenly, there was a noise outside that sounded like a tornado. what in the hell?

"goddamn that son-of-a-mother-fuckin'-bitch!!! what in the fuck is this anyway!!" i knew the voice as well as my own: laverne "pork pie" anderson. he was driving a red semi, entirely too fast, bouncing up and down on my road like a bronco. a helicopter was above him, the biggest one i'd ever imagined, touching the tree tops. "goddamn them to hell!!! what in the fuck do they think they're fuckin' doing!!!!"

"please stop the truck mr. anderson, we're heading in the river!" pork pie slammed on the brakes, stopping about fourteen feet from the drink. there was a twelve foot trailer hooked to the truck, the big helicopter was now hovering over the river, huge, yellow, as noisy as anything i'd ever heard.

"motherfucker! are you sure this is the right place buzz?"

"yes sir, the only house on buttermilk lane." pork pie had on a hawaiian shirt with hula girls on it, his regular fedora, that looked like the old hats i had seen mr. sinatra wear in movies. a stub of a cigar stuck out of his mouth, his face was as red as a beet. simpson looked magnificent, in his starched white shirt, black kentucky colonel tie, pressed black suit and spit-shined black shoes. he was seven feet tall, weighed less than one fifty, hair as white as snow, a hundred and two years old, and i would have traded jason for him last night, in a heartbeat.

"tell 'em to turn that damn thing off pork!" i hollered.

"they will angel, they're landing!" he responded. the copter landed on the green, floated, then turned the engines off. i could hear again. whampa, whampa whampa, the props ran down. "son-of a-bitch, ain't it, big yeller, size two hundred," pork pie said and smiled.

"impressive entrance pork, no doubt."

"well hell honey, you ain't got no clothes on!"

"i'm decent pork." i ran to hug them both. pork pie was wearing shorts, his cigar smelled like shit, but i was so glad to be in his arms. simpson was next. he smelled like fresh aftershave. "god, i'm glad to see you, guy."

simpson smiled. "i've missed you too madam, and i think your outfit is fine." i squeezed him even harder.

"surprise in the back baby," pork pie said. i stepped out of my right moccasin getting back there. a horse whinnied. my god in heaven, it was andy's babe. i hugged his neck, then kissed him.

"hi babe, glad to see you." i almost cried.

"by the way, happy birthday doll," pork pie announced.

"pork pie, my birthday is in december."

"well, the truth of the matter is, me and slim here are kind of in a bind."

"that's not news pork."

"this here's a little different, carlee." andy's babe licked my chin.

"he certainly remembers you madam," simpson declared.

"yes," i beamed.

"anyway," pork pie continued. "we were at a small track in d. c., the babe was 65-1, movin' kind of slow; me and buzz had bet the babe down from 80-1, how much was that buzz?"

"eleven thousand dollars, if memory serves me correctly sir."

"yeah, that's it, eleven G's, the race was three quarters, and andy's babe was behind the middle of the pack; so, ol' laser dick here points his finger at him, and gives him a boost, quite a boost, now he's running fourth."

"how far to go pork?"

"a couple of furlongs, so i nudge simpson to give him another jolt, a bigger one."

"and?"

"and he's neck and neck with a two year old, only yards to go. simmy hits him with one final blast that catches the babe's tail on fire, but by god races him over the finish line."

"interesting story guys."

"yeah, we headed for the para-mutual window, collected over seven hundred bucks and scoot."

"and now you all are in trouble?" i asked curtly.

"well, little angel, it wasn't exactly a photo finish, but they took their picture anyway, a few of the handicappers wondered why andy's ass was on fire."

"oh brother."

"the general fuckin' thinking is that we stowed a bomb on the babe, but that ain't true, is it babe?" pork pie smiled, and patted andy's babe's head.

"shit pork pie, the hair on his tail is singed."

"yeah, we know, that's why we decided to bring him here for a few days, i know the racing commissioner." yada, yada yada, pork pie knows everyone, heard that before. but, here they stand, seeking me out, unannounced, they can't fool me, they're in big trouble.

"time to go mr. anderson!" a voice from the river announced.

"goddamn buzz, what's up their ass, aren't they on our payroll?"

"indeed they are sir," simpson replied.

"hold your fuckin' horses captain, you're rented by the hour!!! damn military." he was turning red again. "and where's my fuckin' cigar?" he asked.

"you ate it, sir," simpson replied.

"shit, get me another one, hey, you got anything to drink in that shack?"

"my home is not a shack by the river pork pie."

"i never said that, goddamnit."

"yes you did, several times, come on in, i'll make you a damn drink, even though it is only seven in the morning." i was getting pissed. simpson handed pork a fresh cigar, lit his lighter for him. simpson had, somewhere on his person, a laser generator. he had run tubes down the veins of his arm and the beam came out of his finger. i had seen it blow a hair dryer all to hell in a beauty parlor in louisville, and now andy's poor tail.

"these fuckin' cigars ain't worth a shit simpson, what in the hell happened to those cuban ones?"

"mr. castro, sir."

"shit, this is pretty nice carlee, why didn't you tell me?"

"i did pork, several times."

"why's your bathtub setting outside?"

"that's a hot tub pork, for recreational purposes."

pork pie swatted me on the butt. "your couch is small."

"it's a love seat pork."

"and what the hell is this animal sitting on the top?"

"an ocelot, but he won't bite. simpson?" i asked, as i brought pork pie a double jack daniels over ice.

"a beer will be fine for me madam," he answered. i poured a cup of coffee for myself, and handed simpson a miller lite. pork pie was drinking and petting my ocelot.

"i like him, what would i have to do to get one?"

"spread your legs real far apart, pork." he laughed, so did simpson.

"madam, do you have a facility?"

"sure simpson, not all western kentuckians have an out house. down the hall and to your left."

"hell, i thought y'all jest pissed off the back porch," pork pie said.

"we can if we want to pork."

"baby, i really did want to call you 'fore we come down, but we was in kinda a hurry."

"it's ok, pork."

"your place is nice carlee, computers and everything, ah, well, i need to ask another favor from you."

"and?"

"ah, before i can get everything right back home, well, i need to leave laser dick and horsey here with you for a while, a few days maybe."

"i don't mind pork, i love andy's babe to death, and simpson is great."

"goddamn good! i'll give simpson my credit card and you all will have a ball, buy any fricking thing you want darlin', simpson normally deletes the account at the bank anyway."

"i have had my eye on a telescope," i said.

"well shit, buy it then. the only thing you need to do, other that put up with buzz and the horse is extract all the burnt hairs from andy's tail, and help deinstall that fuckin' laser crap, you could do that, with your medical background."

"what medical background pork, i've never worked in medicine."

"sure you have, you told me that you taught first aid for the girlscouts."

"that isn't a medical background pork, for god's sake."

"well, you ain't afraid of blood, carlee."

"and how in the hell do you know that, pork ass!"

"now, now, you'll do fine, and i'll bet you were the cutest girlscout in the whole damn troop."

"i wasn't a girlscout pork, i taught that class as an assignment."

"mr. anderson!" a voice from outside shouted.

"what the hell do you want, drummond!"

"mr. anderson, we've got to get back, we're blocking traffic in the river."

"what in the fuck do a couple of geese matter, sakajawea!"

"no sir, it's commercial traffic that we're blocking."

"summabitch!" pork shouted, turning red again.

"he's probably right sir," said simpson, returning.

"how the hell do you know buzz?"

"i've studied this area on the net sir, plus i saw a barge loaded with coal go down before the baby huey landed."

"you've got the eyes of a fuckin' hawk buzz."

"yes sir, i do." simpson smiled and popped the ring off his beer. "do you have a glass madam?"

"oh, sorry simpson." i suppose he would rather take a beating than drink out of a beer can.

"go on down there with her buzz, i'll unhitch the trailer."

"you'll need to get the cab closer to the river mr. anderson." simpson sipped his beer as we walked down to the boat dock. pork pie followed shortly, barreling down my back yard. the huge cab spit and sputtered beside simpson and me. died in the water.

"close enough captain!" pork yelled.

"back up ma'dam, they're about to power up, and put your fingers in your ears."

"have fun you two, be back in a few days, you want your suitcase buzz?"

"i've already taken care of that sir." the baby huey started up. the sound was deafening, pork pie was shouting at the captain, to no avail. simpson and i stood there, our fingers tightly in our ears. an auxiliary prop began to rotate, i thought my ear drums would burst. suddenly the copter rose vertically over pork's truck. the river almost parted; a device decended from it, like a net or something, two soldiers followed it down, secured it and pork pie was beamed up. he threw simpson and myself a 'thumbs up'. the copter surged upward, then forward. then vanished. so did the noise. the green river shook, massive waves appeared.

"awesome." simpson declared.

"let's check on the babe, simpson, he must be terrified." after we got andy calmed down we went back to the house. "looks like there's enough food and water, simpson."

"enough for a week i would suppose."

"simpson, is pork pie in a lot of trouble?"

simpson smiled. "isn't he always?" my phone rang. "oh, get that simpson, i gotta pee."

"miss carlee's residence," i heard him announce. "she's momentarily detained sir, please hold. my name is simpson, sir. no, i'm her butler. yes, butler, now please hold."

"who is it simpson?"

"i think it's your father, mad'am."

"dad?"

"carlee, you hired a butler?"

"no, well, it's a long story dad, i'll explain later, now where in the hell are you?"

"at the academy angel, teaching, and i got a surprise dinner guest, miss lissell stacey, want me to put her on?"

"yes, please," i said, enthusiastically. "lissell, is it really you?"

"in the flesh baby, god, i've missed you."

"same here lissell, you sound just wonderful."

"thanks, i'm good, learning all about you as a child, from your wonderful dad."

i heard a timer ding. "cocktail time, he hasn't changed a bit," i said.

"now, he's wonderful carlee."

"i've always thought so lissell."

"and what knowledge, what a teacher, all i can say is 'wow!'"

"thanks lissell; so you're enjoying the academy, how much longer?"

"a little over a year, if my body holds out."

i laughed. "it will love, it's been through a lot, but you'll make it."

"i was over here trying to score some points with your dad. can you come and visit us?"

"soon maybe, up to my neck at the present."

dad took the phone away from lissell. "please carlee, come visit us the first chance you can, i'm awful hungry to see you."

"alright dad, i promise."

"come on bill, we'll be late tasha and billy are blowing their horn."

"yes, you're right, got to go darling, come soon."

"wonder what all that 'us' shit was about? i whispered toward simpson.

"lovers?" he suggested.

"do you know lissell?"

"i saw her on television with you, rather striking young lady."

"simpson, my dad's over twice her age."

"that doesn't seem to make much difference these days, mad'am. besides, maybe you've just got everything wrong."

"women know about these things simpson."

"as you wish, mad'am."

"and why'd you tell him you were my butler?"

"what was i to say ma'me, your house guest, your live in?"

that made me smile. "i adore you simpson."

he blushed, slightly, then changed the subject. "i'll take my things in, if you'll show me my quarters mad'am."

"well, there are three bedrooms simpson, one is empty and closed off to conserve the a/c, so if it's alright, the small one on the right is yours." he politely bowed, then headed down the hall. i went to the kitchen and made myself a big drink. dad and lissell, lissell and dad, an item? surely not, dad is charming, but?

"i don't walk in my sleep miss." oh my god, my blue knee socks were still tied to the bed posts.