Adam's Journey

Thanks for your time and efforts Stormy, this is a great story.

TrF2

Thanks GH. Like you I always worry a little bit about the long, slow scenes, but usually put them in anyhow. To me it makes the characters much more real, something I picked up from your stories.

TrF2, thanks again. I've found that I have been able to devote a little more free time to it lately, and it's been fun to move it along.

I waited in the bathhouse for several minutes after she left, thinking about the possibilities of her and Harley getting together. They were both really great people, and if it happened I hoped they would be very happy for a very long time. I wondered about the age difference, but Dana seemed to have a good attitude about that, and in many ways seemed very mature for her age.

Eventually I wandered out and over to my bunk area, and was very surprised to find a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on a small plate on my bed, and a glass of milk on the night stand. There was a brief note under the plate in Dana's neat script saying "I figured you might work up an appetite!"

She was right, suddenly I was starving! I took a bite of the sandwich, finding the bread a little dried out. Likewise, the milk was not icy cold, so she had obviously fixed this when she had gotten her own meal and left it here before joining me in the shower. She had devised her own plan for increasing my appetite, and it had worked very well on several levels. The simple fare tasted like the best gourmet meal ever to me at that moment, and I wolfed it down, put on a clean shirt and pair of boxers, and fell into an exhausted and dreamless relax.

The next few days leading up to my departure passed uneventfully, which is a good thing. I noticed now how Harley's eyes would follow Dana as she moved around the compound, and began to believe her hunch was correct. There was something, a certain look in his eyes, that had been missing for the last couple of years, and I realized he was very much in love. It was plain, and I wondered that I hadn't caught it earlier.

Dana, for her part, always seemed to light up when he was around, and I said a brief prayer that it was the right thing, and that she would accept if Harley popped the question.

As for Dana and I, the wall had definitely been smashed down, and we began to really enjoy each other's company. She was comfortable enough around me now to even prop her arms on my shoulders and lean forward, her face right next to mine, looking at the screen as we worked on a problem on my computer.

We weren't alone in the room, but I was able to say very softly "Mmm, you smell good!"

She whispered "You too!" before rubbing her cheek on mine and giving my ear a gentle nip, which sent tingles through me. It was a fun game of innocent sexual teasing, but something we would never have done a week ago, and we laughed and had fun while we worked, and were very at ease with each other.

She caught me in private, out in the utility shed on the morning of the day I was leaving, to tell me that Brian had continued to be very kind and helpful toward her, and that a half hour earlier he had actually apologized for his behavior. In my mind it was the least he could do, but I was still amazed that he had done so.

"And what did you say to him when he said he was sorry?"

"I accepted his apology, and told him I was sorry I had to hurt him." She laughed softly. "It was kind of funny, he winced and kind of covered his groin when I said that. I don't think he even realized what he was doing, but it made me feel awful. I guess I really hurt him pretty bad."

"He deserved it, you should have ripped his balls off and had them mounted or bronzed as a trophy for your desk. You woke him up and made him see what an ass he was being, which is good for all the rest of us too."

She laughed at my suggestion. "Yeah, but still. Hey, you're leaving today, right?"

"Yup, in a few hours. I'm not much looking forward to it though."

"I thought it was a vacation. Aren't you doing anything fun?"

"Well, we're renting a houseboat on Lake Powell for the week, but it was supposed to be three couples and now it's just me and my neighbors, Ron and his wife Kori. I kind of feel like a fifth wheel, even though I love 'em dearly, they're great folks."

"I can see where that might get a little awkward, for a whole week. The houseboat and lake sound like fun though. I've always wanted to do that."

"Yeah, it should be fun. It's a huge boat, all the toys. Hot tub, slide, fancy galley and nice quarters, you name it. Ronnie always gets the best."

"So you and Kristi are really separated, huh?"

"Yeah, apparently. The ball is kind of in my court, and I'm a little confused about where to go."

"Do you want to tell me about it? Maybe I can help in some way. I don't know Kristi very well, but I feel like I do from overhearing you talk about her so much to the guys. Harley told me you were head over heels for her." She put her hand on my arm.

"No, I guess not Dana, but thanks. I just have to work through it."

"It's a shame you didn't know earlier that you were going to be separated, you could have taken me with you to Lake Powell."

A quick laugh escaped before I could stop myself. "Yeah, there's an idea! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Why is that funny? I would have gone with you, it would have been fun!"

"No Dana, it's not funny, I'm sure it would have been great, but what about you and Harley?"

"Humph! I can't put my whole life on hold waiting for that old man!"

I laughed at her. "Ah Dana, the impetuousness of youth! You want instant gratification, but think about him. If you're right, and he does want to propose, it's a huge, huge step for him. He's probably scared to death!"

"Adam, I'm not really all that scary."

"No, but the idea that you could say no would be."

She thought about that. "Oh. I suppose that's true, if he really loves me, huh?"

"Yes. Give him a chance to work up his nerve."

"You're right, I will. Hey, did you ever remember what you wanted to ask me the other night? I mean that other, wonderful night?"

I smiled at her. "Nope, it's gone with the wind. My Alzheimer's, remember?"

She laughed. "Oh yeah, that. Hey, we better get back to work, but give me a goodbye kiss before you go, we probably won't get a chance to do that later."

I did, and it turned into a long, deep sexy kiss that would have been a prelude to an afternoon of slow, relaxed, quiet, amazing sex, if I had my way. Unfortunately we were not in a place, physically or emotionally, that afforded us that luxury, and we went our separate ways, both wanting more. Her lips were so soft and sweet!

Late that afternoon I loaded up my Jeep, tossing my bags of dirty clothes in the back with the bags I'd packed for the lake, and prepared to leave. As I fired up the engine and turned the car around, I saw Harley wave me down from over by the office. I pulled over in front of him and shut off the engine.

"Hey Harley, what's up?"

"I just wanted to catch you before you left. This is your vacation houseboating trip, isn't it?"

"It is. I'll be gone for about ten days total, but Carl is supposed to be here in the morning, so if you'll hold down the fort 'til then I'd appreciate it."

"No problem. Can I talk to you for a few minutes before you leave?"

"Sure. Do you want to go in the office, or is here OK?"

"No, this is fine." He seemed distracted, and looked away over the roof of my Jeep. I got out and stood beside the vehicle, facing him, and realized he was gazing at Dana as she walked across the lot. The love in his eyes was unmistakable.

"So Harley, what's going on?"

"Well, I kind of wanted to thank you for trying to intervene in that situation between Dana and Brian. It's good you were looking out for her."

I laughed. "Oh yeah, that. I kind of got the feeling you were looking out for her too, which is great, but it turns out she can take care of herself, huh?"

He laughed too, both of us enjoying Brian's ultimate pain and offense.
"Yeah, she's a tiger! She's really something special, that girl."

"She's great Harley, I just came to find that out myself. We kind of bonded that day we worked out in the field together, she's truly something else."

"Yeah, she enjoyed that day with you too Adam. She thinks you're a really great guy."

"Just goes to show you I can fool some of the people some of the time, huh Harley?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I told her you'd do in a pinch."

He paused, so I prompted. "Anything else Harley?"

"Yeah. I love her Adam, I think I'm going to ask her to marry me." He blurted it out, then turned bright red. I had to act surprised, but still, I couldn't let him off the hook.

I smacked him on the shoulder. "Well you old dog! Have you been using all your wily old tricks to get her to fall for you? You should be ashamed, trapping that poor, innocent girl like that."

He grinned sheepishly. I had never seen Harley get embarassed or flustered, but he was now. It was kind of cute!

"Give me a break Adam, this is tough enough already."

"Hey Harley, I think it's great. Congratulations. Does she know how you feel?"

"I think so. We're pretty close, we spend a lot of time together."

I studied him for a moment, until he squirmed. This was turning out to be fun for me! "Why Harley, you should be ashamed! Are you relaxing with that innocent young? I'm shocked!"

He bristled. "She's no young Adam, and that's none of your damn business!"

I thought for a second he was going to punch me, until I laughed, and he relaxed. "I'm just yanking your chain Harley. You're right, it is none of my business, but all the rest of us are going to be jealous if you're banging her."

He blushed again, his face giving him away. "Yeah, well..."

"Why tell me this, Harley?"

"I just wanted to know what you think."

"Why?"

"Because I like you, alright, and you have a way of seeing things clearly, and I value your opinion."

"Oh." I was touched that he felt that way, and felt a severe pang of guilt about screwing Dana, but in my defense I hadn't known how they felt about each other until after! I answered him as honestly as I could.

"Harley, I think she is a beautiful, brilliant, and very incredible young lady, and I think you're one of the best guys it has ever been my privilege and honor to know. I think you'd both be getting something very special in the bargain, and I'd wish you all the happiness in the world. I know how tough it's been for you since Eileen passed, and I'm so glad that lightning struck twice in your life."

He didn't speak for several moments, then he said "Thanks Adam, I really appreciate that. I'm kind of afraid to ask her. What if she says no?"

"What if you don't ask her and she would have said yes?"

"You're right. That's why I talk to you, it clears my head. I'm going to do it!"

"Good for you. Right now?"

"No, but soon. In the next couple of days, when the situation is right. Damn, I have to buy a ring!"

"She doesn't strike me as the type to stand on tradition. Ask her soon and buy the ring later, I don't think she'll care."

"You're right again, I will."

"Good. Can I go on vacation now?"

He looked startled. "Oh yeah, sure. Sorry to slow you down. Oh, but one last thing..."

"Shoot."

"If she says yes, will you be my best man?"

Now I was touched, I hadn't even considered that! "Harley, I would be deeply honored to be your best man, it would be my pleasure. Would I get to kiss the bride?"

He laughed. "Sure. If she says yes. I sure hope she says yes."

"She'd be a fool to turn you down Harley, and I'm pretty sure she's no fool. She'll never find a better man."

"Thanks Adam. You have a good vacation, I'll see you in a couple weeks. Wish me luck!"

"Luck Harley, but I don't think you'll need it. Take care."

I got in my Jeep and started the long bounce down to the paved road, heading on a trip I didn't want to take. I really just wanted to rush to Denver and see Kristi, but I'd promised my friends I'd be there, and Kristi didn't want to see me anyway or she'd be going along.

I don't know why everyone else seemed to think I was Dr. Phil when I couldn't even solve my own problems!

I bounced and rattled on down the track, thinking about the events of that week. I really wondered how the company would feel about them getting married, if in fact it happened, and even more about how they would handle the logistics if they both remained at the project site for any length of time.

To my knowledge we had never dealt with a similar situation before, primarily, I'm sure, because we had never had a woman assigned there before. There would be no way that they would have any true privacy, and I knew from experience that Dana liked to be pretty noisy during sex, and even more so at orgasm. I groaned, thinking about eight or ten other stiff cocks in the room as we all laid there listening to Harley and Dana going at it! Shit, that could cause problems!

Oh well, they'd dealt with that up 'til now without being found out, but somehow I didn't think they would want to keep sneaking around once they were married.

After about thirty minutes of crawling down the trail (I won't flatter it by calling it a road), I saw that I was beginning to catch up to Justin, who had left about ten minutes ahead of me on a supply run. I soon came up behind him in his larger, slower truck, and when he reached a wider flat spot he swung out to allow me to go past. I pulled up alongside of him on his right and stopped, leaning out to talk to him.

"Hey Justin, how's it going? You got kind of a late start today, huh?"

"Yeah, pretty late, but I'm staying in town tonight, and I'll come back up tomorrow morning."

I decided I should talk to him about something that was nagging at me, so I shut off my Jeep and got out, walking around to the driver's window. I noticed that he had seven or eight of the 5-gallon metal gas cans strapped in the back, along with the spare 50-gallon plastic barrel. I hadn't realized we were that low on fuel.

"Lucky you. You going into Rawlins or Rock Springs?"

"Rock Springs this trip."

I was a little surprised. "Really? Rawlins is a lot closer. Is there something we need from Rock Springs, or you just got a girl there or something?"

He grinned. "Both. I know a girl there, and there's something I need real bad!"

I laughed. "Ah, I understand! I kind of wondered if maybe you and Dana wouldn't hit it off pretty well. You're about the same age, aren't you?"
I was trying to get a feel for whether or not Justin might be a major problem if Harley and Dana should go forward as expected, if there might be any jealousy.

"Yeah, I'm 23 and she's, I think, 21, but we don't have too much in common otherwise. She's really nice though, I like her, and she sure is pretty!"

"I'd have to agree, Justin, she's a looker. Smart too; she's incredibly talented, we're pretty lucky to have her."

"Yeah, she sure is smart. I'm just an old redneck cowboy that barely finished high school, so give me a Bud and a babe and an old pick-up and I'm in heaven. Girls like her are a little high-maintenance for me."

I laughed, relieved. "So you don't have any romantic designs on her?"

"Romantic designs? You mean am I courtin' her?"

I laughed again. "Courtin' her? How old did you say you are? I haven't heard that expression in years!"

Now he laughed too. "Hey, I told you I was just an old redneck! About Dana though, I'll tell you something, but you have to swear never to breathe a word of it!"

"Sure."

"Me and her, we were fuckin' for awhile, but she kind of broke it off. It didn't mean nothin', I think she was just using me for sex." He grinned at me. "I guess I should be upset about that huh, being treated like a sex object?"

I laughed. "Worse things could happen, right?"

"You sure got that right. I got to fly first class for awhile there, it was great, but it was just sport fuckin'!"

"So, no hard feelings?"

"Nah, she's sweet, I like her. I was gonna kick Brian's ass for her, but she wouldn't let me."

"You'd of had to get in line. But she handled it pretty good, huh?"

He laughed. "I'll say! He'd of probably rather got his ass kicked. Hey, wait a minute, you're not sweet on her, are you?"

I laughed again at his down-home style. "Me, sweet on Dana? No, I like her a lot, but..." At that moment I decided to take Justin into my confidence. A thought had occurred to me, and I'd need his help to pull it off. He seemed like a very honest, straightforward cowboy, and I was sure he'd be happy to help.

"Listen Justin, now I have to tell you something that you'll need to keep quiet about, I need your help with something."

"Sure chief, whatever I can do."

So I told him all about Harley and Dana, and the likelihood of them getting married. I knew I was betraying a trust, but I had a good reamister and I felt pretty good about Justin's trustworthiness. When I was finished, he gave a long, low whistle.

"Well that old dog! Good for him, hooking himself such a fine girl. Of course if he ever finds out I was bangin' her he might just snap me in two, but it wouldn't be the first time I've had a pissed off husband after me!" He laughed.

"Fuck Justin, be careful where you mention that! I'm sure Harley knows she's not a virgin, but let's not rub his nose in it! And hands off now, OK?"

"Sure. I got no rules against fuckin' married women, unless they're married to my friends, that's my one hard and fast rule. Besides, she'd probably hurt me if I tried."

I smiled. "You'd deserve it. Now, what I needed you to do for me. While you're in Rock Springs, are you picking up beer for the guys, at the cuckold water store?"

"Sure, of course. And groceries and stuff." He grimaced. "Dana asked me to buy her tampons."

I felt his pain, and I laughed as I pulled a hundred dollars from my wallet and handed to him. "While you're at the cuckold water store pick up some champagne - that should get you two or three bottles of a halfway decent bubbly - and figure out some way to stash it to keep it cold, where nobody will see it."

"Sure, no problem, I'll put in one of those mesh bags and sink it down in the creek. That water's so damn cold it hurts, even in summer!"

"Great idea! And if they announce all this before I get back, you're in charge of breaking it out and helping them celebrate. Do a nice toast for me, all that kind of stuff. You can take credit for the *****, but you'll probably have to let them know I clued you in on it. Can you do that?"

"Yeah Adam, no problem, I'd be happy to. That's awfully nice of you, to think of that for them. I need you to do me a favor in return though, OK?"

"Sure, if I can."

"If I get shot full of holes on one of my trips into town, will you come claim my body and bury me out in the hills somewhere?" He laughed out loud. "Because this lady I'm fuckin' tonight has one big, mean ladyfucker of a husband that can't seem to get his little dick hard, and I don't think he'd like me fillin' in and fillin' her up for him!"

"Jesus Justin, you're insane!"

He laughed again. "Yeah, but somebody's got to help this poor lady out, she's got a hot, wet pussy and nothin' to put in it!" He reached down and rubbed his crotch. "Fuck, my dick's already hard just thinkin' about it, and I still got three hours of drivin' ahead of me!"

I laughed. "You know, somehow I suspect you won't have any problem keeping it hard until you get there."

He moaned "Yeah, that's the problem! I'm gonna fill that little lady so full of cum before I send her home, her husband's gonna think she's melting!"

"Just be careful, OK? And don't get yourself *******ed until next trip, I need you to take care of our little errand this time."

He grinned again, completely irrepressible. "I will. There's too many poor neglected married ladies out there that need me. I can't get myself *******ed before I take care of all them, now can I?"

I shook my head and walked back around to my Jeep. "Good luck Justin. You're gonna need it!"

I continued on down the trail, thinking about Harley and Dana. I was very happy and even a little excited for them, and found myself hoping that everything would shape up the way it looked like it would. I couldn't help but be a little envious, wishing my life looked as promising today as theirs did.

It was almost 7:30 by the time I hit the paved road, and at that point I knew I still had over five hundred miles ahead of me to get to the lake and our designated meeting place. I had run a MapQuest map which had recommended a route that would drop me off I-80 just east of Green River, Wyoming, then south past Flaming Gorge (so named because of the colorful surroundings, I assume, and not because of any particular sexual proclivity), then on south through Utah and across the Uintah/Ouray Indian Reservation on what I thought was a somewhat inefficient route with multiple highway changes.

I had looked at the maps in my glove compartment and decided instead to backtrack just slightly to a route which would take me south through western Colorado, and so jumped off I-80 onto WY 789, which changed to CO 13 at the state border. It was full dark by the time I hit Craig, CO at U.S. 40. I stopped for gas and a burger, and took along a large cup of coffee to help battle my fatigue.

Any problem with relaxiness behind the wheel was resolved about forty miles or so south of Craig when I crested a small rise to discover a herd of elk brownietered across the roadway directly ahead of me, with others grazing the neighboring shoulders and ditches. There must have been close to thirty of them! The adrenaline rush accompanying the ensuing panic stop would keep me alert for quite some time, but I thankfully managed to avoid any dead or injured naturals or crumpled sheet metal, or embarassing soiled underwear. A huge bull, his impressive rack by now almost entirely free of velvet, gave me the evil eye as I worked around and through them and continued my trip.

My loud and dramatic stop had scared some of the naturals off the highway, but I flashed my headlights at the next couple of cars I met to warn them. Fortunately traffic was extremely light and deer sightings had been frequent, so most drivers would be watching closely. Hitting a deer would be bad enough; colliding with one of the enormous elk could be catastrophic!

It was a half hour shy of midnight when I picked up I-70 westbound at the town of Rifle, and less than two hours later I was through Grand Junction and entering Utah. I stopped at a rest area for awhile to stretch my legs and unstretch my bladder before turning south onto Highway 24 at mile marker 147.

I figured this was probably a beautiful ride during the day, and I could see the shapes of rock formations and bluffs rising around me in the darkness as I worked my way south between Canyonlands and Capitol Reef National Parks, a million stars burning brightly overhead.

I passed exactly one vehicle, a large RV, in the forty plus miles between I-70 and the small town of Hanksville, and there was amazed to see a small gas station and cafe all lit up and open at this ungodly hour of the morning. I knew there were virtually no signs of civilization in the sixty or so miles remaining between Hanksville and the marina except a very tiny town called Ticaboo, and I was not confident of finding any services there so I turned in, filled my gas tank, and walked into the cafe.

It was a traditional small town cafe, with a dozen seats at the counter and maybe another dozen or so four-seat tables, half of then set up as booths. It smelled great, of fresh cooked bacon and coffee, but appeared to be completely deserted. A disembodied female voice called out "Sit anywhere you want, I'll be with you in a minute!"

True to her word, a woman appeared soon after I sat down in one of the small booths. She was carrying a glass of water, and as she walked toward me, even in my worn out state I was struck by several things about her.

The first thing I noticed was a sense of strength; though she was not a large woman, perhaps five foot seven or so and slender, she had wide shoulders and a flare at her hips that gave her an aura of confidence and power, and her purposeful, almost masculine stride did nothing to dispel that feeling.

Her face, though not classicly beautiful, or perhaps even pretty, was striking, and memorable. Her mouth was maybe a little too wide, her cheekbones high, and there was a small offset in her nose, as if it had once maybe been broken and not set absolutely perfectly. A tiny white scar on her strong, rounded chin, full lips, and brilliant kelly green eyes beneath delicately arched brows completed a face that was unique and fascinating, and hard not to stare at.

As she got closer I could see that her hair, which I had thought was brown, was really a very dark auburn red and quite lustrous, and that she had it pulled back into a long, thick ponytail which I soon discovered reached below the middle of her back. I guessed her age at about twentyfive, although she could have easily been as much as five years either side of that.

Her tight, worn jeans and plaid western style shirt gave her the look of a rancher, or perhaps a rancher's wife, in spite of the new-looking Adidas on her feet instead of boots, and I thought she looked very out of place working in a restaurant when she should be out rounding up cattle or breaking horses. I kept my thoughts to myself as she set the water on my table.

She reeled off her mantra, unsmiling and apparently unfeeling. "Hi, I'm Tiffany and I'll be your server. Would you like anything else to take?"

I was a little put off by her coldness, but made a bid at getting her to smile. "Hi Tiffany, I'm Adam, and I'll be your customer, and I'll kiss your feet if you tell me you have fresh, hot coffee back there."

My attempt was a spectacular failure, and she looked down at me, still frozen. "So you want coffee?"

"Please."

"Cream?"

"No thanks."

She turned and left, ponytail swinging, and I admired the way her stride made her firm ass and slightly wide hips move, the back pockets of her jeans doing an admirable job of holding my eye. The only surprise was that there was not a thick layer of frost across the taut denim.

She soon returned, carrying a steaming mug which she set down in front of me. "That it, or do you want any food?"

Even though my normal breakfast time was still a couple of hours away, the great cooking smells in the cafe had made me hungry. "Well, I could stand to eat. What's good?"

"If it's on the menu, it's good. What do you want?"

Still unsmiling, still cold. Her attitude was starting to bug me a little bit, even though I was trying hard not to let it. I decided to call her on it.

"Tiffany, did I do or say something to piss you off?"

"Not yet, but I have confidence in you."

"Give me a break, you don't even know me!"

"I know your type. It's not too hard to predict what comes next."

"Is that so? Why don't you sit down and tell me what I'm supposedly going to say to offend you?"

"Do you want to order first?"

"Don't you have to do the cooking?" I had assumed she was there all alone, which would have seemed like an incredibly bad idea until I had met her and gotten a taste of the attitude. She would have been perfectly safe all alone, I think.

"No, Pops is back there. It's his place."

"Oh. How about eggs, over easy, bacon, hash browns, wheat toast. And an OJ."

"I'll be right back."

She left to place the order, and soon, to my immense surprise, returned and slid into the booth across the table from me. I guessed I was about to get a primer on how to treat, or not treat, a Utah woman.

Nice transition Stormy. Just when I thought I knew what was coming, that came right out of left field. Serves me right.

By the way, I do believe that in the Swedish countryside, the second biggest cause of death while driving (after takeing) is collision with Elks (or Moose as they call them).

peak,
that is correct.
Stormy,
This is good

Thanks peak, good to know I can surprise you once in awhile! Are you Swedish?

Thanks to you as well, oliverra. I once had the misfortune out on I-70 in western Colorado to come upon an accident scene shortly after a truck and a car had plowed into a herd of elk in the darkness. The carnage was incredible, and gruesome. Several naturals were *******ed or had to be destroyed, and both vehicles were badly damaged, the driver of the car seriously injured. Scary! I slowed down afterwards.

Moving on:


She put her elbows on the table and interlaced her fingers, resting her chin on them and giving me a frank, open stare, still not smiling. Although captivated and attracted by her amazing face and incredible green eyes, I couldn't help but notice her hands. Her fingers were long and graceful, but her nails were cut very short, almost looking chewed off, and her hands appeared to be strong, the skin slightly rough and calloused.

These were definitely working hands, the type that knew how to change a tire or wield an axe, or perhaps quickly and comfortably turn a young bull into a steer. I doubted that these hands had ever experienced a manicure, or even seen the inside of a spa. They very much reinpowerd my first impressions of her.

I waited for her to speak but she just continued to regard me with her cool, appraising stare. I decided to take the initiative.

"So what was it that I was supposedly going to do, or say, that would offend you? Or would it be quicker and easier for you to tell me what I could say that wouldn't?"

She smiled grimly. There was no humor or warmth in it. "Well, that's a good start. Care to push that thought any further?"

My question had been a little passive-aggressive, I knew that, but it had been intentional. "No, you have the floor. By all means, enlighten me."

She leaned forward and began to tick things off on the fingers of her left hand. "First, you were going to make fun of my name, or spout some inane, half-assed comment or cliche`. Second, you were going to hit on me, because I'm obviously some lonely, love-starved woman, and as God's gift to women you're clearly obligated to help me out."

She paused, but she wasn't finished. "Let's see. Then you either try to get me to tell you my life's story so you can try to worm your way into it, or you power me to listen to your's and pretend that I'm even a little bit interested so I can get a tip. Oh, and my all time favorite, you figure it's OK to touch me, or even grab my ass or something. All women love that, of course, and because you're going to leave me a big $2.00 tip you're definitely entitled to grope me!"

Wow! This woman was like nobody I'd ever met, and clearly had issues or experiences that had turned her into a real ball-buster. Whatever had been done to her had left her angry and bitter, and I thought maybe I should just eat and move on. Unfortunately my food wasn't there yet, and she was, and I had asked for the explanation. I decided to go forward carefully, wary of land mines.

"Huh! And here I was only going to leave you a $1.00 tip." She didn't laugh, or even smile. "You don't have much use for men, do you Tiffany?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. They have their uses, I just don't like them very much."

I laughed. "Well, you're honest, I'll give you that! Let's see, that was an impressive list. OK, why would I make fun of your name? Tiffany seems like a perfectly good name, a lot of girls are named that."

She gave me a dubious look. "So you weren't going to say 'Tiffany, like the lamps?', or maybe 'Tiffany, that's a stripper's name. Are you a stripper?', or my all-time favorite brilliant comment 'Gosh, you don't look like a Tiffany.' Tell me, just what the hell is that supposed to mean? What does a Tiffany look like?"

I had thought that, that she looked more like a Kate, or a Rebecca, or maybe an Annie, but I was so glad I hadn't said it out loud! She was right, it is an inane and cliched comment.

"Well, I wasn't going to say any of those things Tiffany, and I don't know what a Tiffany is supposed to look like. Your name did get me musing a little bit though."

She visibly bristled.

I held up my hand, palm toward her. "Nothing like that! I was just thinking how strange it's going to seem, forty or fifty years on, to have thousands of little old white-haired ladies everywhere named Tiffany, or Amber, or Heather. Those just don't seem like old lady names, you know what I mean? Do you suppose us evil old men will still ask them if they're strippers?"

Her eyebrows went up, then she slowly smiled, then laughed out loud. She had a clear, bell-like laugh, and the smile transformed her face, turning her wide, full lips upwards and baring her sparkling white teeth, allowing her true beauty to shine through. I thought she should smile more, but I didn't say so.

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name is?"

"Adam."

"Well Adam, that was original. It's a very strange thought, but it is original, I'll give you that. Does your mind always work at such odd angles?"

I smiled at her. "My friends would probably tell you that you ain't seen nuthin' yet. Oh, and about me thinking I'm God's gift to women, let me give you my ex-wife's phone number, she can clarify that for you. I believe 'curse' was the word she used, rather than 'gift'. She'd be happy to tell you all about it, she certainly never hesitated to set me straight."

She laughed again, a sound that could become addictive. "Ah, another soldier wounded in the love wars, huh? You poor baby!" She said it in a mocking tone, but at least the mean aggressiveness had left her voice. I didn't go into my other war wounds at that point, the ones that were still reding.

Totally focused on her, and on not putting my foot in it, I hadn't noticed the proprietor approaching carrying two plates, and when he spoke it startled me. His voice sounded like two granite boulders grinding together, and I looked up to see a very large, very black man dressed in an all-white chef's uniform nearing my table.

"You should laugh more Tiffy, I miss hearing that. I'm not sure what you said mister, but keep it up. Here's your breakfast, and I brought you a plate too, Tiff. You should eat something before it starts to get busy."

He set the plates on the table in front of us, and then rested an enormous hand possessively on Tiffany's shoulder. She leaned her head over and rested her cheek against the back of his thick fingers, her fair skin contrasting sharply to his huge ebony hand as she rubbed her face against it. Clearly there was some kind of bond here.

"Thanks Pops. This is Adam, we were just talking."

I stuck my hand out and he quickly enveloped it in his giant paw, giving me a bone-crushing handshake. He looked enormously fat, probably close to six feet in height he seemed nearly as broad, but the strength of his grip showed that there was a very powerful man behind those outer layers.

He raised his chin, indicating my plate, and growled "I brought you biscuits instead of toast. If you were from around here you would know better than to order toast when I've got fresh biscuits coming out of the oven. Everyone calls me Pops, Adam. Now what else can I get for you?"

I looked at my plate. Everything looked very good and smelled even better, the golden biscuits huge and hot. "It all looks great Pops. I did have an orange juice coming, I guess."

"You got it, and I'll heat up your coffee. How about you Tiff, coffee?"

She started to rise. "I'll get it Pops, it's my job."

He pushed her back down, like an adult with a young, and rumred "Sit Tiffy, and eat your breakfast. I'll get it, you two just go on, don't let me interrupt." He turned and walked away, his massive bulk slowly receding.

I watched him walk away, then turned to her and found her watching me, waiting.
"Pops is a pretty big guy. He seems real nice though, have you known him a long time?"

"Almost 15 years, since he bought this place. He's a great guy if he likes you, not so much if he doesn't, and don't let his size fool you, that's not all fat. He's very quick, and strong as a horse."
She paused momentarily, then "And yes, he's hung like one too."

Where the hell had that come from!? I hadn't asked, we barely knew each other, and she's pitching out that comment! I must have looked very shocked, because she laughed again, apparently at the look on my face.

"Too much information? Check it out when he comes back Adam, you can really tell in those white pants, you'll be impressed."
She didn't even have the decency to blush as she said it, although I'm pretty sure I was, and I was a little at a loss for words.

"Damn, Tiffany, I didn't ask, did I? I can't believe you said that! And I really don't care to know any more about it."

She laughed again, and when he returned I couldn't help but glance down as he approached. Either she was telling the truth, or they had worked out an elaborate joke and he had stuffed a large salami or something down his pants, because the huge chunk of meat dangling down his left leg was quite obvious as his thick thigh pressed it against the thin white pants with his waddling stride. She was right, I was very impressed! Damn!

He set down my juice and her coffee, and put his hands on his wide hips. "There you go. You keep my Tiffy laughing like that Adam, and the meal is on me, it's like music to my ears."

"Thanks Pops. I'm not sure if she's laughing with me or at me, but you're right, it sounds beautiful."

He smiled, showing a row of teeth that were startlingly white against his black skin, then walked away, and I regarded Tiffany warily, wondering what she might say next. She was smiling and relaxed now, a huge improvement over her original attitude, and I smiled back at her.

"Truce, Adam. I was pretty unfair to you."

"You were. I assume you had your reamisters." The food was delicious, and her company, now, in her new, lighter mood, made it even better.

"I do, but no excuses." She looked over at Pops, who was wiping down the counter. "He's the only black permister in town, maybe in the whole valley, but he's the greatest. He helped me through some tough times. Everyone in town loves Pops, he's a legend."

She paused, then gave me a sly smile. "Well, not all the husbands love him, but among the wives he's most definitely a legend. And not just because of these biscuits, either." She smiled as she took a bite of her biscuit, and I waited for her to swallow and go on.

Stormy

This last segment is magnificent. What wonderfully creative characters.

GH

Damn, Stormy, just when I'm all geared up for the houseboat adventure, you take us down another path. Can't wait to see where this ends up, I can conjure up all kinds of possibilities. Excellent writing, thanks.

TrF2

GH & TrF2, thanks for the support. Yes, I decided on one more twist to the story.
I know Tiffany (not her real name), and had wanted to work her into the story, and I finally found a place to do so. Unlike most of the characters here, who are pieced together from a number of different friends and acquaintances heavily seamistered with pure fantasy, Tiffany's story is largely true. Her location and the people around her are not.

I wonder if she'd recognize herself if she read this.

She looked over at Pops as he finished cleaning the counter, and a wistful smile played across her face.
"You look at him and you see a big, fat, scary black guy with a big appetite, but what you don't see is how that appetite runs through his whole life. You don't know him."

"Tiffany, I don't find him scary. A little intimidating at first, I suppose, but he seems like a decent guy. I don't know anything about his appetites, but he sure seems to care about you."

"He does, but he cares about everyone. He has a need to help people, I guess you could say. If someone is in trouble, or needs a few bucks to get by, he's the first one there to help out. He supports all the kids' sports teams, picks up anyone that life has knocked down, hands out free meals like it's no big deal. I don't know what he did before he came here, but he must have made a lot of money, because he gives away far more than he could ever make running this place."

"He sounds like a pretty amazing guy. And yet you say he's banging half the women in town, including the married ones. That doesn't seem like it would endear him to a lot of people."

Her gaze snapped back to me, her green eyes flashing. "That's pretty crude, don't you think?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend, but you brought it up."

"Yeah, but that's not what I said. I said he was a legend among the ladies, and he is, but he's not 'banging half of them', as you so eloquently put it. It's not quite like that."

I noticed how quickly she flew to his defense, despite the fact that I really hadn't been trying to belittle him in any way, and realized that there was something serious between them.

"How about I just shut up and you tell me what you want me to know. And I ask not because I'm trying to worm my way into your life, like you said, but because I'm truly curious, because you both seem like great people, and because I've got almost five hours before I need to meet my friends at Bullfrog." I had intended to eat and move on as quickly as possible, planning to get a nap in before meeting Ron and Kori around 9:00, but now I had found a better use for those hours.

She looked at me. "Oh, so you're a fisherman. I had you pegged for a hiker, or maybe a climber. At least you're not an off-roader or a dirt biker, those guys are the worst!"

I laughed. "I'm not a fisherman either. I'm just meeting some friends, the couple that lives next door, for a houseboat vacation. You know, relax, take, swim, maybe jet-ski a little bit."

"Actually I don't know. I've never done that." She looked puzzled. "Adam, we have a lot of houseboaters come through here since we're only about an hour from the marina, but it's always families or multiple couples, or groups of guys for fishing and watersports. You and one couple together seems a little offbeat."

"Well, you're right. We were supposed to be several couples, but everything fell apart and it boiled down to just me and my friends Ron and Kori. It's a long story."

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

I smiled at her. "Why, so you can pretend to be interested and earn your big $2.00 tip?"

She laughed. "OK, I deserved that. But I thought you were only going to leave me $1.00. No, you just sounded so sad when you said it, it kind of made me curious."

When she said that I realized that sadness was what I'd been seeing in her too. What I had mistaken for anger, resentment, and defensiveness I now realized was a deep sadness, and maybe a touch of bitterness, which she kept masked by those other layers.

"How about this, Tiffany? You tell me yours and I'll tell you mine."

She smiled at me. "That sounds a little naughty. OK, where should I start?"

"Why don't you tell me why you're working here? I don't know whether you look like a Tiffany or not, but you definitely don't strike me as the waitress type." I paused, then plunged. "Not with your finely honed people s*******s."

She laughed out loud, and Pops glanced over at us, a big smile on his face. Just then a tall, rangy, gray haired guy strolled in, and Tiffany stood up and went over to greet him. She raised up to give him a kiss on the cheek, then took the large thermos he was carrying and filled it from the steaming coffee pot. They exchanged a few words before he slipped her a couple dollars, called out a good morning to Pops, and walked back out to his truck carrying his thermos while she quickly started a fresh pot brewing.

She returned to the table carrying a carafe of hot coffee and filled both our mugs.

"That was obviously not one of the low-life men you so despise."

She laughed again. "Hardly! That was my dad. He's actually the main reamister I work here. It's close to home and Pops gives me time off to help out on the ranch when I'm needed, like calving seamister, or when we're branding and castrating the calves, or when we have to move the herd to new pasture." She shrugged. "It works for me, and the money I earn here goes toward my hobbies."

"Hobbies?"

"Yeah, sports, whatever. I'm a barrel racer, and I raise and train cutting horses and ride in competitions."

"Wow! That's pretty impressive." I actually was impressed, in part to find that my initial evaluation of her had been close to the mark, in part because it takes a strong, tough permister to compete in those sports. Before I could pat myself on the back, she laughed again.

"Adam, do you even know what barrel racing or cutting horses are?"

"Hey c'mon, I'm not a total greenhorn! I've been to rodeos and stuff, and I've seen cutting horses work. I've even ridden quite a bit. Not like you, but on pack trips and hunting trips, and for fun. Give me a little credit!"

"Sorry! I've won some ribbons and a little money at it, and I make money when I sell a horse. But OK, that's why I work here, and because Pops is so great to me, not because I love people. I like horses much better. What else do you want to know?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

She went dead serious, and I was afraid I'd overstepped the bounds and alienated her. When she spoke it was flat, without inflection. "I have a husband, Adam."

I glanced down at her hands, which were devoid of jewelry. She caught it and went on. "No, I don't have a ring, and I haven't seen the mister of a bitch in over three years. Almost four. But technically we're still married."

I didn't know what to say, and was almost afraid to say anything. This would obviously be a difficult topic for her. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. We don't have to talk about it."

She sighed. "No, it's OK."

"Can I ask why he left?"

She laughed bitterly. "He thought it was wise after he broke my nose for the second time. And beat me for the last time." She ran her finger down her nose, pausing at the slight deviation I had noticed when I first saw her. I don't think she even realized she was doing it, and I was deeply saddened to find out I had been right about that too.

"Christ Tiffany, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have pried, we don't have to go there if you don't want to."

She shrugged. "It happened, it's over. And that last beating was probably the only one he ever gave me that I actually earned. And then Pops broke his nose, and his cheekbone, and his arm, so he didn't escape unbrowniehed either. When he got out of the clinic he got in his truck and drove away, and that's the last anyone around here has seen of him."

She seemed so sad it made my heart hurt, and I stumred with my question "How did you... I mean, why..."

"We were high school sweethearts Adam, and he was the nicest guy, and we loved each other so much. We got married, because that's what you do in small towns if you don't go away to college or something. Eventually he started takeing."

She paused, thinking back, then went on. "I should have seen it when he started calling me names and being mean, and accusing me of relaxing around. Which I wasn't. And then he hit me."

"Tiffany..."

"No Adam, it's OK."

A couple came in and took a table and she started to rise, but Pops waved her back down and walked over to them, carrying the coffee pot. We sat silently as he greeted them, and I noticed an odd exchange as he shook the man's hand, then stopped behind the wife and put one huge hand on her shoulder, the other gently caressing her face and neck before coming to rest on her chest, his fingers splayed across the upper swell of her breasts as they chatted.

She smiled across at her husband and rubbed her cheek against Pops' thick arm, much as Tiffany had done. Her husband didn't act as though this was at all out of the ordinary.

Tiffany didn't even seem to notice, and she went on. "I should have left him, I know that, but he would always apologize when he sobered up, and he'd feel so bad about it. I guess I really wanted to believe him, and I loved him so much. I was so damn stupid."

"I'm not an expert Tiffany, but I think that's pretty common. Women love their men and want so much to believe they're better than they are. That's not stupid, it's just human, but some guys are just cuckolds brownie and there's no way around that. At least you're out of it now."

She laughed softly, without humor. "Yeah. You know what did it? He accused me of fucking around, hit me and split my lip, then took my best cutting saddle and pawned it for about a fourth of what it was worth for ***** money."

She shook her head. "I finally figured if I was going to be accused, and punished, I might as well do it! So I came here - we were closed then, we only stay open 24 hours in the summer - I seduced Pops, got myself well and wonderfully laid, and went home to him with all that cum still leaking out of me. And I made damn sure he knew it, and knew that he didn't begin to measure up to a real man."

"Jesus Tiffany!"

"Yeah, he beat the cuckolds brownie out of me, but at least this time I deserved it. He always used to say I was just what he wanted, young, dumb, and full of cum. He forgot to specify that he only meant his own cum, and when I climbed on his lap and he realized what was happening, and why I was so sloppy wet, he went crazy. If Pops hadn't shown up he probably would have *******ed me. I thought at the time maybe that would have been better."

"God Almighty!" She seemed to actually think that him beating her for that was justified. Not in my world. I couldn't decide if I should take her into my arms or just sit there and cry. In the end I did neither, I just talked to her, told her she didn't deserve that, and tried to tell her that I understood.

I didn't of course, there was no way I could. I felt terrible for her, her story was so sad and full of pain, and I thought that by comparimister my life looked like a bed of roses.
"Tiffany, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to dredge up all of that. I should know to keep my nose out of things."

"No Adam, it's OK. It kind of felt good to talk about it. Other than Pops, and my family, and now you, nobody else knows that whole story. And I don't know why I told you any of that, but you're a good listener." She paused. "You know, in retrospect, calling him a tiny limp-dicked little faggot was probably a mistake." She laughed again then, a real laugh, and I felt a little better.

"And you've never seen him again, since that night?"

"Nope. Last I heard he was cutting timber up in Washington or somewhere like that, no doubt busy disappointing the girls of the Great Northwest as well." She laughed again, as did I.

"OK, your turn Adam."

I thought my story would sound a little whiny after what she had been through, so I stalled.
"OK, but first, tell me a little more about Pops." I nodded over to where he still stood, near the couple that had come in awhile ago. By now he had one of her breasts fully cupped in his enormous black hand and was gently squeezing it through her blouse as he chatted nonchalantly with the two of them. She had one hand behind her back, and I could just see it clutching and grasping at the bulge in the front of Pops' pants as they talked.

Tiffany looked over and smiled. "Oh yeah, that. Well, that's an interesting story."

The cafe was starting to get a little busier as the rising sun began to put a glow in the eastern sky. Tiffany was having to get up periodically to take an order or fill coffee cups, although it seemed Pops was delivering most of the meals as he filled the orders. He moved around the room and through the narrow aisles with a smooth grace that belied his considerable bulk, and he seemed to know everyone that came in and to enjoy the easy banter and comfortable conversation with all of them.

Tiffany also greeted everyone by name, and I realized these were all locals. There was one table occupied by five young guys, around her own age, but I didn't see any of the wariness or anger with them that she had evidenced with me when I had first arrived. These guys looked like maybe ranch hands or some such thing, all in jeans and work boots, and I figured she had probably grown up with them.

She joked around with them, teasing, and when one of them lunged after her she slapped his hands away and said, loud enough for the whole place to hear "Careful Toby! Are you sure you want to grab my ass? Remember, I might be the last one to touch your food before you eat it!"

A lot of people laughed, and his friends gave him some crap after she said that, but I didn't ask her about it when she returned. I figured I was better off not knowing, but she must have realized I'd overheard and said "Rumor has it that I once jerked Pops off on a guy's salad after the guy was especially obnoxious to me, then put Ranch dressing over it and served it to him."

"Ugh! Did you?"

"I don't really want to confirm or deny the rumor. It's working for me."

I laughed. "About Pops though, Tiffany, that whole deal with that couple that was in here a little while ago was pretty strange. From what you've said I guess he must have a reputation as quite the, uh, swordsman around here."

"You have no idea. He's probably the most sexual permister I've ever met, that's one of his big appetites. Food, obviously, plus he reads everything in sight and loves old movies, his house is full of books and videos, and DVD's, he enjoys good Scotch and cigars, and music. And people, he just loves people, but more than anything he loves sex. He says God equipped him for it and put him on earth for a reamister, and he figures that's it." She laughed. "I think he may be right."

"How does that work, in a town this size?"

"Well, it really started shortly after he bought the restaurant from Gus, who seemed about 150 years old and wanted to retire. Pops was just looking for a small restaurant to run, out of the big city, and he somehow got wind of this place, and bought it. There was a group of ladies, town women, usually about five or six of them, sometimes more, that would come in almost every day after the big breakfast rush was over and just sit and take coffee, and visit. Mostly gossip, you know."

She got up to refill coffee cups and pick up some empty plates, and I looked over at Pops, watching him work as I waited. Even at his size he wasn't a bad looking man, and his gruff voice and jovial manner seemed to charm everyone. There was no doubt that he was an alpha male, and I could see the way some of the women responded to him, although there were more men in the place than women.

For me, watching Tiffany move around was much more enjoyable, and I watched her as she came back to my table and slid in. She cocked her head at me. "What?"

"Nothing, I just like watching the way you walk. Very strong, very confident."

"Well, I guess I am confident. Now, finally. I guarantee you one thing, no man will ever hit me again. At least not a second time, so he better make the first swing count."

"Good for you! Why don't you just stay away from any men that would hit you?"

She shrugged. "I try, but I guess you never really know, do you?"

She had a point, and I've come to realize that a woman that's been used once will never, ever completely let her guard down again, not 100%. It's very sad, and sometimes makes me ashamed of my fellow man, of how we can damage a fine woman. I thought of Kristi, and wondered what damage I had caused. Small comfort, at least I'd never struck her.

She furrowed her brow. "Where was I? Oh yeah, Pops. Remember, this was 15 years ago, he wasn't nearly as heavy as he is now. I was just a kid at the time, but I remember hearing some of the ladies talking about him, how masculine and manly he was, how strong, and making whispered comments about the 'rumors', or the 'black myth'. I had no clue what they were talking about." She laughed, shaking her head.
"I don't think some of those women had ever actually seen a black permister, except on TV. I guarantee some of them had never spoken to one."

She looked around to see if anyone needed her, and then went on. "He slowly worked his way into their little group, and pretty soon he would be sitting there, laughing and kidding with them, gossiping right along, teasing and flirting. The little group grew to ten women, then a dozen, and they came every single day, starting to dress more provocatively and actually compete with each other for his attention. You could say he was charming their moist little panties off."

She looked over at him and smiled. "He can be very charming. But most of these women were married, just one spinster and a couple of divorcees. That fact didn't seem to slow anyone down very much, and within a few weeks I'm pretty sure he was doing at least a couple of them. Talk started to go around about his abilities, and of course his size. I still can't decide if some of those ladies were made more horny, curious, or frightened by the rumors about it, but they all seemed to want to find out for themselves."

I realized I was sitting there with a hard-on, thinking about him cutting a swath through the town's women, and them lusting after him. "I thought you were just a kid. How did you ever learn so much about it?"

"I grew up on a ranch Adam. Around horses, cattle, goats, my two brothers, various other naturals."

I laughed. "Oh yeah, of course. Brothers."

She laughed too. "Really, we had a stallion, and bulls. By the time I was ten I'd seen the stallion mount the mares, many times, and the bulls and heifers, and cows of course. My brothers seemed to delight in showing me their little penises, and trying to catch me naked. I knew early exactly what a penis was, and even had a pretty good idea what it was used for, where it went, and how to go about it. Farm kids get an early education, they really don't need sex-ed in school very much. About condoms and such, I suppose."

"I forget about that. I grew up in town. Chicago, actually."

She shook her head. "You just got a different kind of education is all. By the time I was twelve I'd helped castrate calves, so I knew exactly what a scrotum was, what testicles are, and how they all looked, worked, and felt. In a place like Chicago, you probably had to focus on keeping yours."

I didn't really remember the city being all that scary, it had just been home. Different experiences, different perspectives.

She went to the front counter and rung a couple of people out, and freshened some coffee cups. The place was starting to empty out, it seemed, but looking at my watch I saw it was only about 7:00. I still had time, and still wanted to know more about this woman, and her town. I was pretty well hooked.

Oh stormy,

You do have a way with words

You sure do and every time I catch up just want more
contdoc

OK, the houseboat can wait. I'm loving this side adventure with Pops.

oliverra, cd, and TrF2 - thanks for taking time to comment. I feel bad keeping you waiting for the houseboat happenings, but like any good trip the journey is a big part of the fun!


Onwards:

She came back and stopped by my booth. "Do you want anything else, while I'm up?"

"Maybe a little more coffee. Boy, your breakfast rush starts and ends pretty early around here. Is this really it?"

She looked around. "Ranch and farm people mostly, their day starts early. We'll just have a trickle from now until lunch. I'll go get us a couple of fresh cups, be right back."

While she went to do that, I headed for the men's room to dispose of some of the coffee I'd already had. To get there I had to go down a short hall, past the women's restroom, around a corner, and past a door I assumed was either a storeroom or an office. That door was standing open several inches, and as I neared it I heard a noise and automatically glanced in. What I saw shocked me, and rooted me in place.

I could see a twin bed against the back wall, along with a nightstand and a single chair along the right side, but kneeling on the floor in front of the bed was a middle aged woman, her pale, mousy brown hair shot through with gray. What shocked me was the very huge, very black cock in her mouth!

I could see enough of the torso behind it to know it was Pops, as if the enormous black cock hadn't already given that away, and the noise I had heard was the woman moaning as she enthusiastically sucked him, one hand wrapped partway around his thick shaft while the other, up under her skirt, worked busily between her own legs.

I could see her clearly, and knew that if she glanced in my direction she would see me, but she seemed very engrossed in what she was doing. Pops' shoulders and head along with the back half of his body were not visible to me, cut off by the door frame, but I could see one big hand holding his shirt up over his belly, and the other resting on her head, gently moving her back and forth as he fucked his giant penis into her wet, open mouth. His pants were bunched around his knees, and the first few inches of his cock were shiny with the woman's saliva.

The spit-covered part of his dick looked like polished ebony. The whole thing looked impossibly huge, with fat veins pulsing along it's length. As she slid her lips off of him, stopping momentarily to lick them and catch her breath, I noticed that he was uncircumcised, and that his fleshy puckered foreskin was drawn down over the fat head of his erect cock, which looked well over a foot long.

The woman brought her other hand up, fingers wet with her own juices, and wrapped it around his cock as well, using her two-handed grip to slide back his foreskin before opening her mouth and stretching her lips over the shiny purple plum-sized head of his cock once again. I heard him groan, very deep in his chest as she took him as far as possible into her mouth and throat, and couldn't help but notice the diamonds on the gold wedding set on her left hand, the fingers of which were not even close to reaching around his thick manhood.

I quickly realized two things: The first was that if I had ever thought about getting at all boastful or egotistical about the size of my own equipment, this experience would permanently quash that. About the only thing my cock had in common with his was that at the moment they were both hard as a rock.

The second was that if this woman looked my way, or if Pops leaned forward or somebody else came down the hall, I was going to be very busted, and very embarrassed. I watched for a few more seconds, as she moved one hand to his enormous black ball sac, which I had caught glimpses of as it swung back and forth with his thrusts. She cradled his balls in her hand and lifted his heavy, sagging scrotum to her lips, licking and sucking at his egg-sized testicles.

As much as I was enjoying my voyeuristic experience, and my hard cock and trembling body told me I was, I was about to chicken out and move on to the restroom when I heard a man's voice. It came from somewhere within the room, but it was not Pops.

"Yeah, that's it baby, suck his balls! You love that giant black cock, don't you honey? God, you're such a slut baby, you just want that big cock cumming in you, don't you?!"

It dawned on me that this was the same couple I'd observed earlier in the cafe, the woman whose tits Pops had been groping before it got busy, and that not only was her husband still with her, in the room, but that he was actually cheering her on! Fucking unbelievable!

This scenario fascinated and intrigued me, in part because of what I had experienced with Sue and Rick, but also because of my own present situation with Kristi and her desires. Also, it was just plain raw, wet, pornographic sex, and I found it very arousing! I was leaning forward slightly, trying to get a glimpse of the husband to see how he was coping with this, when a hand closed around my elbow. It startled me badly, and if I had not had such a throbbing hard erection I would have probably pissed myself, my bladder about to burst as it was!

It was Tiffany of course, and she shushed me as she pulled me back down the hall a few feet and around the corner.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Pops is in there, with that couple..."

"Adam, I know exactly what's going on, more or less, but why are you spying on them? That's pretty rude, don't you think?"

I had to admit, it did look bad for me. I had known it would, and I was blushing furiously. "Hey Tiffany, I was just going by, trying to get to the john. The door was open, I swear, I couldn't help it!"

She swore. "Damn! I told him he needed to fix that latch, it doesn't catch and the door drifts." She glanced down at my crotch, my own bulge still obvious. "Well, I see you got an eyeful. You must have enjoyed it."

"Holy crap, that was amazing! You sure weren't lying about him being, uh, well-endowed!"

She laughed. "I didn't say he was 'well-endowed' Adam, I said he's hung like a fucking horse."

"Yeah, well, I guess you would know, what with the ranch and all."

She poked my ribs playfully. "Trust me. Now come on back to the table and leave them alone."

"Tiff, I gotta piss so bad I'm about to explode, but I don't want to go past that open door." I'd heard a lot of others call her Tiff, but it was the first time I had. She didn't seem to notice, and accepted the familiarity.

"Here Adam, just use the women's room. I'll watch the door, it doesn't lock."

I stepped into the ladies room, and to my surprise she followed me. "Um, you're coming in?" There was a single commode, plus a sink and all the other standard things, but no separate stall.

"Yeah, I'll put my foot against the door to hold it shut." She seemed to notice my hesitation. "What, are you shy or something?"

"Tiff, we just met. This is a little strange, don't you think?"

"City boys! Just pee and get it over with, I promise not to look. Watching you piss holds out no fascination for me, OK?"

"Well, OK." I was still reluctant, but what could I say, we're supposed to be adults, right? So I unzipped and managed to get my still very erect penis out, powering it to a downward angle, and tried. And tried. And concentrated, straining. Nothing! My bladder hurt it was so full, but nothing, not a drop, and I remained very hard with all the effort.

"Well, are you or aren't you?" I looked over my shoulder and found her watching me.

"I, uh, I can't seem to go. I get bashful bladder sometimes, I can't do it if anyone is watching."

"I'm not watching, OK? Now hurry up, will you!"

"That's not helping. Can't you leave?"

She giggled softly, leaving the door and stepping to my side, then looked around me and down at my hand gripping my hard cock and keeping it pointed uselessly at the toilet.

"Wow! I can't believe you're this shy. Have your brain pass a message to your poor bashful bladder that there's nothing out here to be bashful about! That's a very nice cock, for a white boy!" She smacked me on the ass, laughing, and stepped outside the restroom.

To my immense relief I was then able to go, and did, loud and long. I went mostly flaccid as I peed, then tucked away and washed up. I rejoined Tiffany in the hall, and to my surprise she pulled me back down the hall, back toward the sex room.

She said "Sshhh, come here for a second, you'll love this!"

She peeked in, then motioned for me to do so. I carefully looked around the door and was stunned to see Pops mounting the woman, his enormous thick cock embedded in her, stretching her pale pink pussy around it's massive girth. She was on her back, crossways on the bed, her ass toward the open door.

I don't think she could have spread her legs around his wide body, but she didn't need to because they were straight up in the air, one foot on each side of his thick neck, the backs of her thighs pressed to his big belly and chest as he thrust into her. His tree-trunk legs were splayed apart, supporting him, and we could see his huge balls, suspended several inches below his thick cock, hanging down and slapping against her very white ass with each thrust, the muscles of his ass and legs bunching with the effort. He was deep, deep inside of her.

His monstrous ebony cock gleamed wetly with her arousal as it pumped in and out, and she had a pillow over her face, muffling her cries as she was ***d by Pops' big phallus. I didn't see her husband just then, but knew he must be there somewhere, watching his wife taking the fucking of a lifetime!

I had one shoulder against the wall, leaning forward and peering around the door jamb, and Tiffany was gripping my arm and bending past me, looking in under my chin. I didn't know if the scene was affecting her as it was me, but she made no effort to look away. The idea that she might be as aroused as I was as she stood there touching me made my cock throb.

We watched the powerful muscles of Pops' broad ass bunch and strain, contracting tightly as he thrust his massive cock into her, and could tell by the increasing volume and higher pitch of her muffled cries that she was quickly approaching a powerful orgasm. Just as her cries of arousal reached a crescendo Pops stopped pounding into her and stopped, his fat, rigid, black cock only about halfway inside of her.

The woman paused for a moment, as though surprised by the break in the rhythm, and then her body took over, her back arching and pelvis bucking upwards as her ass rose off the bed, desperately thrusting herself onto his stationary pole, wanting it, needing it buried deeply to achieve and complete her mind-numbing orgasm. We could hear her strangled cries as she fucked herself onto him, her body taking over and continuing to thrust and slam upwards, finding it's own rhythm, and powering his cock to spread her open and penetrate deep into her body. His stuffed black sac was crushed against her ass with each of her thrusts, primed to empty his seed into her womb.

I was achingly aroused by the strength and violence of the woman's orgasm, and became aware of Tiffany's hand tightening on my arm, her strong grip almost painful in it's intensity as her fingers dug into my muscles. I remembered that she had shared the experience that this woman was feeling, that she had fucked Pops on at least one occasion, and knew what it felt like to have his thick, powerful cock deep inside of her, and I wondered if she was feeling it now.

I knew then that she was very aroused, her body no doubt hot and tingling, her pussy probably swollen and as wet as my penis was hard. That knowledge just served to fan my flames, my cock pulsing in time with the pounding of my heart, and a small trickle of sweat made it's way down my back.
As the woman's orgasm slowly burned through the last of her fuel and her pelvic thrusts slowed, her husband suddenly stepped into our field of view, startling us and causing both of us to jerk back out of sight.

Tiffany reacted slightly quicker than I did, and the back of her head caught me painfully in the chin, clacking my teeth together and causing stars to swarm momentarily overhead. I stood rubbing my jaw as she rubbed the back of her head, and when she looked at me and saw me opening and closing my mouth, testing my jaw, she clapped her other hand over her own mouth to stifle her giggles. Cowgirls have an odd sense of humor.

She pulled me a couple of steps from the door and, cupping her hand to my ear, whispered "Sorry! I have to go check on my customers. Don't you get caught!"

The apology would have felt more sincere without the laughter, but it seemed no permanent damage had been done. As she disappeared up the hall I crept back to the open door, needing now to know how this would end, struggling to figure out the dynamics of this tryst.

The first thing I saw was the man, the husband, standing with his back to me, bending forward slightly to watch Pops fuck his wife, to better see the big black cock that had just provided her with such intense pleasure continue to ravage her wet, satiated pussy. The bald spot surrounded by sandy, graying hair on the back of his head was clearly visible, but his attire was what struck me as incongruous.

He still had on the sportcoat, dress shirt, and tie that he had been wearing in the restaurant, and his black socks, but had removed his pants, underwear and shoes. As he turned I could see his skinny, erect penis jutting upwards between his shirttails, pink and pale and not more than five inches in length, and when he squatted down for a better view I noticed that his tight, wrinkled little pink scrotum was significantly smaller than just one of Pops' big, dangling testicles. Those huge black orbs were still pressed wetly to his wife's ass, and the side-by-side comparimister made the man look weak and puny.

As I watched he reached out and stroked Pops' dark, dangling scrotum, thin white fingers stark against the almost black flesh of his sac and the very black, tight curly hairs on Pops' thighs and ass. For the first time I noticed that Pops' balls appeared to be smooth and hairless, which seemed unusual, and I tried to remember if I had noticed whether he had any pubic hair when I had watched her sucking him. I couldn't remember.

The man slid his hand under Pops' heavy balls and cupped them gently, lifting them and beginning to slowly fondle and massage the bulging pair before allowing his fingers to stretch out and glide along the underside of the thick black shaft, carressing the huge cock as it continued to pump in and out of his whimpering wife. I wondered what thoughts were going through his head as he felt his wife's warm, slick arousal coating the massive shaft, as his fingers slid against the hard, black pole and became coated in his wife's cum juices.

If her enjoyment of the incredible fucking she had recieved had not been evident in her muffled cries, the copious amounts of vaginal cum that her body had produced to bathe and lubricate the thick, hard source of her pleasure provided more than ample proof of her appreciation.

Pops' huge cock and heavy balls were soaked with her love juices, almost dripping, and her pussy and ass were equally wet and glistening. By now her husbands fingers were also well saturated, and the inside rear of of both of her thighs looked slick and wet.

As the small man squeezed and fondled Pops' straining balls, I heard a rumble, and realized it was Pops groaning, from deep in his chest, as he reached his peak. His body bucked spasmodically, his cock jerking erratically in and out of the woman as her husband held on to and squeezed Pops' scrotum. I knew Pops was pumping his load deep into her tired body at that moment, and wondered if the husband could feel the powerful spasms of the massive cock as the spurts of cum passed by his grasping fingers and into his wife.

To my utter amazement, the woman cried out and came again, powerfully, as she felt the giant cock spasm and spurt inside of her. I would have bet she was down for the count, but she surprised me, her hands coming around and grabbing Pops' thighs, fingernails digging in just below his ass, and pulling herself tightly to him to receive his load, goading him to fill her up, telling her husband that she was being pumped full of cum. I had to admit that her thin white fingers gripping his dark skin, wedding ring gleaming and diamonds sparkling, looked very erotic.

The husband released Pops' scrotum and crawled up on the bed next to his wife, kneeling beside her and kissing her, talking softly to her, face to face and very intimate as Pops continued to slowly fuck her. Her body seemed to sag visibly in collapse and exhaustion, finished, satiated, almost unaware of the huge phallus that continued to move slowly inside of her as Pops fucked her, winding down from his ejaculation.

I could see that his thick cock was slathered in white streaks, cum-covered as he continued to stir her pussy, and watched as a large dollop of cream slid from her and ran down his balls, hanging there momentarily before falling to the floor with an audible plop.

The man and woman continued to mutter softly to each other, reliving the last few minutes and affirming their love and passion for each other as Pops thrust in deeply one last time, powering a small gush of thick, white semen from her ravaged pussy before slowly sliding his thick, semi-erect cock from her. It hung there in front of him, jutting out slightly, impossibly long, thick, and black, the dark skin making the streaks and globs of white semen and slick female juices all the more obvious.

He stood for a moment, hands at his sides, and I thought for a second that he was going to fuck the husband next, kneeling on the bed as he was with his ass in the air, his shirt and sportcoat slid up to reveal his anus and small, tight scrotum. Distracted, loving, whispering and cooing to his wife, he would have made an easy target.

I heard Pops say "Harold", and watched the man turn and look up at him, then down at his hanging, cum-coated thick black snake before slowly sliding off the bed and dropping to his knees in front of Pops, reaching out one hand toward the much larger man.

Dear Stormy,

Just caught up - you write so nice, so understanding, with the most humouristic and sympathetic style, and the characters you kind of paint are so realistic. I do love this so much! There are no words to describe the amazement you create. Without your story the world would be missing one of its best parts!

Can't wait to read more about Adam and Tiff...

Cliffa
Cliffa

Great work, Stormy. Your characters' feelings, thoughts, and motivations are so far above the usual "Gee, I'm horny. I think I'll fuck everybody in Wal-Mart" level that this storydeserves to be print published somewhere. Trust me, this cuckolds brownie is GOOD. I know whereof I speak.

Fred

Cliffa and Fred - Thanks for those very kind words, you make me blush! I enjoy the writing, but it is a lot of work, so it is somehow very rewarding to know that folks are reading and enjoying the story. Thanks again for taking the time to respond, it's always good to hear from you.

Stormydog, I also enjoy your stories. Your are one of the geniuses of the cuckold literary world. thank you and please continue, I need another fix!!!!!
ShortSupply

I watched in morbid fascination as the man Pops had addressed as Harold touched Pops' big, hanging cock, taking the cum-slathered penis in his hand and lifting it up to his lips. Pops' fleshy foreskin had slid back into place, covering the large head of his cock as his erection slowly faded, and Harold closed his eyes and extended his tongue, gently licking at the thick black member, probing the puckered opening with the tip of his tongue.

I heard Harold moan, soft and low, as he took Pops' long, semi-limp cock into his mouth, sucking avidly, no doubt tasting his wife, taking note of how her arousal had bathed Pop's enormous cock in her love juices and perhaps wondering why she never became that aroused for him. He had to be noticing how the entire length and circumference of this huge, very black cock was covered in her arousal, and in the semen that his wife's pussy had enticed from the heavy balls now dangling just below his chin, and marveling at how deeply inside her body Pops had spilled his seed.

I wondered if he thought about the tender pink flesh lining his wife's vagina, and how every last bit of it would be thickly coated in the black man's creamy cum, spread evenly by the continued post-ejaculation thrusting of his impressive, virile cock, and was made to feel inadequate by the knowledge that he could never duplicate that feat.
I noticed his skinny cock, still rigid as a steel rod, jutting up from his lap between his shirttails, small, pink, and somehow pitiful at it's fullest arousal, and realized that if indeed he noticed these facts, or had these thoughts, he didn't seem to find them to be unpleasant! I had to smile at the way my imagination had run wild with the inspiration of what I was seeing.

If I was shocked, fascinated, and, yes, a little grossed out by what I was witnessing, I was less so because of my own experience with Sue and Rick. I had thought them very odd, possibly unique, but was now presented with evidence that they were perhaps not so unique after all. I had looked at the cuckold website Sue had told me about, but assumed that it was probably all fantasy and talk. Now I wondered how much of this was really going on out there. Obviously it was a lifestyle that some people seemed to enjoy. Very much, in fact, if Sue and Rick and now this couple were any indication!

I glanced at the woman, who hadn't made a sound since Pops had vacated her used pussy. She was in total collapse, her legs splayed open, completely spent and possibly totally unaware of her husband's performance. A small stream of glistening white cum seeped slowly from her stretched and swollen cunt, pooling slightly over her tight little anus before dripping onto the edge of the bed and creating a dark, wet streak down the tan sheets before dripping slowly onto the floor. There was a half-dollar sized cum slick on the floor, and I saw another creamy drop suspend momentarily before falling to join it.

I heard Pops deep voice mutter "Sorry Harold, I need to get back to work, I left Tiffy all alone out there."

Harold released Pops' cock from his sucking lips and stood. I was surprised to see that Pops was probably about sixty or seventy percent hard, on his way to being prepared for another go-round by Harolds attentions, but even more surprised when the two men shook hands warmly and smiled at each other. Now I don't know about you, but if I'm in the shoes of either of those guys I don't think it crosses my mind to shake hands, not with a semi-comatose woman, especially if it's my wife, laying there leaking cum, and my erect penis sticking out!

Harold glanced over at his wife, then turned back to Pops and said "Thanks Pops, I think Gloria enjoyed that even more than usual."

Pops chuckled, a low rumbling sound. "The pleasure was all mine Harold, your wife sure has some sweet, wet little pussy on her. I was getting pretty horny, glad you two showed up!" He paused, then went on. "No need to rush, you can stay in here awhile if you want, but I need to get back to the kitchen."

He bent and held his white pants as he stepped into them, a move I would have bet he couldn't accomplish, and began to tug them up over his thick legs as the other man turned back to his wife, moving toward her. Nobody was facing my way, so I took a chance and stepped quickly across the door opening, thinking the other side would give me a better angle to see what would transpire next.

Harold grabbed his wife's limp legs and lifted them up and apart, stepping between and slipping his hard cock into her worn out pussy. He seemed to meet absolutely no resistance, but then he wouldn't just then, would he?
Harold was holding his shirt and sportcoat up around his middle, bunched in one hand, and Pops paused, his long black hose hanging out of his open pants. Honestly, at it's size and color it looked fake!

We both watched as Harold began to pump rapidly, his skinny white ass pistoning back and forth as he thrust his little cock into his wife's stretched and sloppy pussy. He couldn't have taken more than ten or twelve thrusts when he grunted, a frantic "Ungh, ungh, ungh" sound, and I realized he was spurting his pent-up cum into his wife, less than half as deeply as Pops had, adding his sperm to her creamy filling.

Pops laughed and reached over and grabbed one of Harold's ass cheeks in his massive black mitt, squeezing it hard. "You go boy, you sure don't waste any time! I don't think Gloria ever even knew you poked that in her - and your secret is safe with me, I won't tell her!"

I heard the woman mutter tiredly "Oh I knew, don't worry, but I sure couldn't feel that tiny little dicklet after you Pops! I was just too tired to move is all. Thanks for being quick as usual honey, momma's worn out!"

She and Pops both laughed at that, as Harold slid down her body, kissing her breasts and sucking momentarily on each dark nipple before his knees hit the floor and he buried his face in his wife's swampy, cum-filled pussy, lapping wetly and with obvious relish as her body spasmed and she thrust herself into his face.

She moaned "Oh god, oh yes, that's it baby clean all that creamy cum out of me, stick your tongue in... oh, oh god, yes, like that, right there, oh, ohhhh!"

Pops slapped him on the back, laughing. "Good thing you've got a talented tongue mister! You kids be good, take your time, I gotta go."
He tugged his pants the rest of the way up and began to turn toward the door, and I suddenly realized, panicked, that I was trapped, unable to get past the open door and out to the restaurant without being seen!

At that precise moment my cell phone began to buzz softly, vibrating in my pocket. Frazzled, I darted toward the men's room at the end of the hall as I groped for my phone, praying I would get it before it began to ring!

I grabbed it and flipped it open as I stepped into the restroom, planning to hide out until the coast was clear, and I glanced at the screen as I quietly closed the door behind me. It was Kori, no doubt touching base to see where I was.
Quietly, I spoke into the phone. "Hi K, let me call you back in a few minutes, alright?"

"Sure, no problem. Are you here?"

"Almost. Bye."

I pocketed the phone and waited, and to my surprise heard Pops' heavy tread approaching the door, which, like the women's room, had no lock. Thinking quickly, I stepped to the urinal and unzipped, pulling out my still fairly hard cock and pretending to piss. When he stepped into the regular toilet stall I'd take my leave!

He hit the door and entered, but to my dismay he didn't act according to plan, stopping at the sink which was right next to the urinal and not separated by a privacy wall. I should have taken the stall!

In my peripheral vision I saw that his pants were still open, his long cock still hanging out, and couldn't help but notice that he pushed up against the counter and let his thick, flaccid cock flop into the sink! He looked over as he turned on the water, directly at me, unwavering and unabashed, his eyes going down to my semi-erect cock.

"So, Adam, did you enjoy the show?"

Fuck, when I think I know what is coming you open a new door, great
contdoc

Fantastic. Just fantastic. Thanks for all your hard work Stormy.

Thanks 6k4g5Dxj (how do you pronounce that - or is that your inmate number? lol) Glad you enjoyed it and thanks for writing. Cuckold literary world, hmmm, I'd never thought of it like that!

cd & TrF2, thanks you guys for your support, it's appreciated!

That caught me totally off guard! "I, uh, I was just, uh..."

He laughed, enjoying my discomfort and my complete lack of any appropriate response.
"Relax, I don't care. But just a tip for next time you're trying to be sneaky, you should really try to keep track of where your shadow goes."

My shadow! Shit, I hadn't even thought of that! Stumbling on the scene like I originally had that's not too surprising, but when Tiffany and I snuck back after I whizzed I sure as hell should have noticed. I hate it when I'm stupid! I flushed the urinal as a stalling tactic and zipped up.

He chuckled again, seeing how disgusted I was with myself for being so dumb. He squirted some soap into his hands and rubbed them together, then began to lather up his penis as he spoke. "So, tell me, what did you think of Henry and June?"

Now I've spent plenty of time playing various sports and working out, and thus a fair bit of time in locker room showers with guys lathering up and washing all around me, but I can honestly say this was the first time I'd ever stood and tried not to watch somebody wash their genitals in a bathroom sink at a restaurant. Or anywhere else for that matter, and I found it very disconcerting; it took a few seconds for his question to sink in.

"Uh, I thought you called him Harold, and her name was, um, Gloria."

"That was supposed to be a literary reference Adam. Never mind."

It clicked then, what he had said. "Oh, of course - Anais Nin."

He looked up, seemingly surprised. "You've actually read Anais Nin?"

"Well, no, not really. A little I guess, an old girlfriend gave me one of her books once because she had enjoyed it, but I found her to be a little too self-involved. Now that I think about it the title of that book was 'The Diary of Anais Nin', so I guess that stands to reamister, huh?"

He laughed, and this time I was able to laugh with him. "Still, you recognized Henry and June, not bad Adam!"

"Well, mostly I just remember a few things I've heard about her; erotic writings, life in Paris, Henry Miller the author, you know, trivia, that kind of stuff. What little I know about Henry and his wife June, and Nin, that would put you in the role of Anais." I looked at him dubiously. "I don't think I've ever seen a photo of Anais Nin, but I'm pretty sure she didn't look like she could play nose tackle for the Packers."

That set him off into a deep belly laugh which, coming from Pops, was serious business. He grabbed a handful of paper towels as he laughed and began to dry himself. He tossed the used towels at the trash can and dropped into a very credible imitation of Barry White's deep bass voice as he tucked himself away and finished dressing.

"There you go baby, got the old love machine all cleaned up and ready to go baby, the love master is all ready and waitin' for the next little white lady that needs his lovin', yessuh, got to be responsible for my ladies now don't I baby, can't let down my fans, no suh!"

I laughed at his mimicry as he turned to face me and became serious. "You never answered me Adam. Were you disgusted by what you saw, offended, aroused, outraged - what do you think about it?"

I paused for a second, not sure what to say. "Pops, trust me, I'm the last permister that can presume to pass judgement on what you do with other obviously consenting adults. I guess I was a little shocked, at first. I sure wasn't expecting anything like that. Then, I guess, mostly just aroused. After all, I stayed and watched when I could have walked away."

"That you did. Harold and Gloria are very dear friends of mine, and we play a few little grown up games together, when we want to. It helps to have the Mayor on my side sometimes." He smiled. "We all enjoy it, and we all get something out of it."

"Yeah, I could see that. It looked like everyone was very happy."

He smiled. "Yeah, that Gloria, I'll tell you..." He flowed smoothly into a bad 90's street slang, trying to lose his perfect diction in ghetto patter. "She be one bad-ass ho, that white bi-atch bringin' dat horny white married pussy here fo' some big nigga cock! This town full o' dat tight white pussy needin a little jungle lovin, mothafucka, and dis nigga got what dem sluts be needin."

I couldn't help but laugh at him, shaking my head "Fuck, Pops, you're too much!"

"Yah suh, I gots to make shuh my home boys don't hear about dis, every one o' dem niggas be thinkin they get they own litttle town full up wit dat horny white married pussy needin some big black snake, how 'bout dat, cracka!"

"Uh, yeah, fo' shizzle Pops." Laughing.

He clapped me on the shoulder, laughing, staggering me sideways. This had to be the strangest bathroom conversation I'd ever had. And I had just recently thought that my post-shower chat with Dana would hold that record indefinitely!

"Tiffany had kind of told me that you were pretty popular with the ladies around town Pops. I guess with that sense of humor I can see why."

"And the big black cock Adam, don't forget the big black cock. The ladies do seem to like that for some reamister."

"Shit, Pops!"

"Seriously Adam, all kidding aside, about Tiffy. I don't know why she took to you, she's usually pretty stand-offish with strange men."

"Well, I'm not really sure about that either to tell you the truth, but I'd say she has good reamister to not trust men, wouldn't you?"

"She told you?"

"About her husband? Yeah, she did. She says you kicked his ass from here to yesterday, and congratulations on that."

"Yeah, that Ian was quite a weasel. I should have *******ed that bastard."

I frowned. "Ian?"

He smiled grimly. "Yeah, that's right, you wouldn't know his name, would you? Tiff never says his name out loud, ever, so she wouldn't have told you. But if she told you that story, she must like you. That makes you OK in my book."

I thought back and realized Pops was right, she had never mentioned his name. Weird, I should have noticed that. She was obviously still hurting inside.

"Pops, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"This is a small town, and I know how small towns work. How come nobody helped her sooner? Why did this go on so long? I mean, that fucker broke her nose - twice, for Christ's sake!"

His eyes flashed angrily and his huge fists clenched as he looked at me, and I almost felt bad for old Ian. Almost.
"She covered for him Adam. We didn't know for the usual reamister - she covered up, lied, pretended nothing happened. She works with horses all the time you know, and that's a pretty good way to get hurt, so we believed her."

He paused, and I could almost see him mentally kicking himself. I realized that I'd unintentionally poured salt in an open wound. He went on.

"She'd show up with a black eye and say her horse hit her in the face with its head. She'd come in so sore from a beating, her ribs probably black and blue, and she'd say she strained her back moving hay bales, or she'd be limping and say the horse kicked her, or stepped on her. She was good Adam, very believable." He swore softly, under his breath.

"Why do you think she did that Pops? Why did she cover for that SOB? I mean, she doesn't strike me as the usual victim, low self-esteem type of woman."

"I've asked myself that a million times Adam, and I don't know. I think self-esteem may be part of it, but I think it was mostly a matter of dreams."

I was puzzled. "Dreams? What do you mean by that?"

"Dreams die hard Adam. She and Ian were high school sweethearts, and she had all her plans and dreams of their life together and how it would be, a little ranch, a couple of kids, training horses and riding in rodeos, always loving each other and being sweethearts like they used to be. No matter what a takesen bastard he turned out to be, she just couldn't seem to let go of those dreams."

I shook my head, my heart aching for her. "Yeah Pops, I guess I can see that. That's so sad. I don't know her too well, but she seems like a very special lady."

"You have no idea Adam, you just have no idea."

This cafe and its characters are clearly very real in your mind Stormy. It's as if your writing has suddenly come sharper into focus. That usually only happens when its real not imagination and from your previous comment I think it shows. You really are a class act my friend. If you don't write professionally in real life in some way, you really should consider it.

Sometimes on this site people write the sex scenes and fill the gaps with plot, it usually shows. Here, it doesn't. At all. Great.

I look forward to the next episode every time. If you write a book I would need to read the hole thing non stop
contdoc

I can only echo those previous two comments. Well done Stormy.

peak - the "Tiffany" that I know, my friend, went thru very much this same thing, in a very similar situation, so you're right on target as usual. I respect and admire the way she came out the other side, she's an incredible lady. And man, can she ride!

cd - Thanks, I think this kind of turned into a book, which was not in my plans. It's been fun though, and I feel like I've made a few new friends along the way.

TrF2 - Thanks, and likewise, please see the previous comment!