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Lady Luck
by Charlie Haverson
Lady Luck
Oh, yeah, Luck is a lady alright. Some ancient she-goddess at watches over the ladies and wears a special smile when a lady’s getting some good lovin. Least, I found it so. You do good by a lady and you get good in return. I’m talking about lovin, now, not just money, and gifts, and treat em right and all. I mean put it to em the way they like it, and you’re set for life. Cuz first and foremost, Lady Luck’s a goddess of good lovin.
I always treat a woman right, and damned if I ain’t had some real good luck when it comes to snatch. Why, in my early truckin days, there’s women who’d just climb up in a rig, toss off the Whopper boxes and soda cans, and get down to it. These ladies know how to work around a gear shift and such and’ll just give your jonny a fine howdya do right there, no questions asked and off we go. Some ’as young and fine -- too young some of em so’s you have to send em off on their ways. And there’s others look a little warmed over -- OK, not like yer rock star groupies with all the plastic boobies and skinny bellies like that, but real kinda women. Good women. I used to call em lucky ladies, but truth is, ladies in general is lucky in love. Never see no lady wantin it bad, least not for long, right? And truth is, all ladies is good, when you open em up, to where they’re soft and slip-sliding and squeezing like your momma’s hugs.
I’ve had me some luvin in my rig that’d kink up your curlies. Like ole Patsie -- shew! She could steam my windows up real bad. On all fours there in the cab so’s her little love ball was resting on the gear shifter, made me pull her skirt up over them fine flanks. And weren’t any undies on the girl, neither. Just when I bent over to get a faceful of coochie, she’s prancing off into my cab bed -- and I never thought there’s enough room on one of them things to make love till I got Pretzel Patsie on hand.
Course I been married awhile. Don’t do truck stop action much anymore. Got to worry about diseases and all. Yeah. I’ve slowed down some, but my wife’s a lady that never had no trouble keeping up. She’s real open about a man’s cravings and all. And she’s got some tastes that, well, you might say a man can truly admire. After ten years of marriage, she tells me we can "swing." I says, "whatever." And then one day I was talking to a buddy of mine and he gets all excited, "Your wife wants to go aswinging?" He’s all grins and like that there. "Well ain’t you the lucky guy. Shit!"
"What’s so lucky about that?" You know, I’m just a ole redneck and I truly didn’t know what the hell they was talking about.
My buddy set me straight alright. So when I go back to Mary Louise, that’s my wife, and says, "so you were saying you want to go swinging, then?" And she kinda blushes -- never thought I’d see that un blush. "So wha’d you have in mind?" I says all calm like. Thanks to being tipped off about the swinging business. But I gotta tell you I had a damn woody I coulda hit a homer with when she tells me she likes to eat pussy.
Since we started swinging we’ve been having a hell of a time with lots of fun people. Mary Louise, she picks out the gals. And that’s a real stroke of luck cuz I don’t have to do a damned thing. No rejection. Just pure pleasure. Sometimes when it’s couples, me and the guy is just watching the ladies get it on. Man, they can get all up in each other’s pussies, lapping and drooling. They can find each other’s little knob in no time flat. Get the other lady wriggling, get her titties all knotty. And they do all kind of cunt-grabbing like with ther the thumb over the button and two fingers in the hole, just like that old joke about the bowling ball. Only to hear these ladies squealing, it ain’t no joke. Stuff I never thought of, I’ll tell you. Rub their tongues all around that little thing, me watching it squirm and getting a big one, my lady’s titties rolling and swaying to the beat, those plump pads under her cunt squeezing and jiggling, her adding groans and me hornier ’an a hornpout.
I had no idea you could watch so many fine, wet, wide open pussies with your wife’s blessing. I seen pussies jump and wink and flutter and do everything but magic tricks when a lady gets off. I heard those little pup yelps, those hungry coyote howls and everything in between as Mary Louise wags her tongue along some pretty slit and the ooze rolls on out. Sometimes she licks up the juice as it spills and I’ll tell you, I get damned hot. And man, they’re so good at it I try to take notes. When to slide your two fingers in, when to tease her so she sighs, circle all around her love button so she’s liftin up and trying to find your finger with her nub. I learned a lot too. How to pull back that teeny pink skin wrapper so’s the button pops out -- never knew there was this little bald thing hidin in there under a flabby fold -- and you can work it over real fine. I learned when a lady’s real close to cumming -- when her pussy’s all fat and her hips get grinding -- and when it cuts loose how their reddened pussy starts to squeeze in on itself. Half the time I’m like to burst, but I also been learning it’s more fun the longer you hold it. And if you can hold it till it pretty near hurts, you’re gonna let off a geyser that’ll blind a cat. And feels like an explosion. Every now and then I thought, maybe someday we’ll do it where I can get in on the eatin and grabbin, but I was mostly watching and glad of it.
I mean, I liked to eat snatch and all that there, but when the ladies got going on each other, it weren’t no comparing. Legs thrashing, you know, gotta just stay out of the way to not get kicked. OK, and I thought it’d be nice to get a good old fashioned BJ while all this was going on. But I figured it was just a matter of time. Mary Louise, kept getting wilder. She started playing with a lady’s butthole. Lady weren’t putting up a struggle, neither. Something I never gave much thinking to, buttholes. But once Mary Louise got this one real pretty little lady all curled up on her side like a baby with her knees tucked into her chest so you could see all the holes opened up, and Mary Louise could get at em easy, it got me to thinking about ass. Mary Louise spread that gal’s ass cheeks and start running saliva in there. I could see the dark shades deep down into the lady’s crack, just like the sayin "where the sun don’t shine." Mary Louise is playing with that pussy, too. So pretty and clean, little delicate thing. This little lady was one of my favorites, I’ll tell you. And once or twice now, while Mary Louise was squeezing that pussy all up, and her other finger running up and down inside the crack, pushing at the sweet wrinkled ring, why sometimes the butthole just seemed to open up all of its own and suck the finger right up in there. Hoo-ee, yeah, now. That’s some sight to see, cuz butthole knows how to close down real tight. But never mind that. I figured it ’as just a matter of time before Mary Louise’d run outa ideas and get around to dragging me into the action. Till then, watch and learn was my motto.
So I ’as a satisfied man, all through those days and when I ’as on the road, I didn’t have the cravings for cooch like I once had when I was a single feller. Still, the lucky ladies had no way o’ knowing. So sometimes at a truck stop, a lucky lady’d be so bold as to rub up against me the way they do. They put out a kinda heat. Back before Mary Louise, a lucky lady was hot to go, man I’d always go off with her. I mean, always. Get it while its hot was my motto. But I’d make em get theirselves all horny first. You know -- if one of em comes after you like ’at, you don’t even look her way -- that would ruin the whole fantasy anyway -- but you kind of just feel it, Lucky Lady rubbing all against you. Keep your mind on that soft tittie against your arm, going bump, push, nudge. It’d be a shame not to enjoy it. Even after Mary Louise, I let myself enjoy those small pleasures. I never called it cheating neither. Just enjoying what life had to offer.
One time, when it was late, we was the only ones in the diner, me and this lucky lady who comes up behind me, starts rubbing her tits all over my back, like a cat on a scratching post. They wasn’t floppy melons or anything like that there, but they was real solid, so it was a lot of spring in ’em. Like maybe she was real young. That’s when you close your eyes, cuz if she’s not young, you don’t want to know, and if she is young, you don’t want to know that neither. If I concentrated real hard, I could feel her nipples, cuz she weren’t wearing no bra or anything and they was sort of dragging across my back, skittering a little, like ’ey was nervous -- back, forth, back, forth. Oh, man, this lady was all squishy soft and damned if she didn’t have the little soldier going, getting a stiffie right there on the stool.
"You know that feels mighty damn good," I says to her.
"More where this came from," she says to me. I could tell by her voice that she was young. She ’as probably legal fucking age, but she’d be all firm and tight and unused and sweet-smelling. Damn. I didn’t want to turn around for good reasons and bad. Didn’t want to see what she looked like -- wanted her to stay the prime, smooth cherry I imagined; that’s the bad reason. Wanted her to keep on pressing her warm titties up against me cuz when I turned around, I’d have to say "no," and end it. Don’t know whether it’s the diseases or Mary Louise ’at’s got me more skittish after all these years. Mary Louise has forgiven me my transgressions on more ’an one occasion, going off with a lady while she’s not around, but I try not to let it happen. It still causes lots of trouble. And like a fool I promised to tell her whenever I did it. And then there’s diseases. Maybe all this talk of diseases is a plot by the women-folk to keep guys like me in line. But whatever the reason, I just told myself to enjoy the moment and sort of let things drag out, and not help them along any.
Next thing, I feel this girl’s hands reaching around my body. Her breath is puffing in my ear, titties pushed hard into my back and she’s going for my belt...
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