jason looked absolutely wild. i suppose i did too. i untied him and he
was on top of me in an instant. he pushed it deep inside of me, new
depths, it hurt at first, but not for long.
"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.
|