|
|
Lady Luck, Part 7
by Charlie Haverson
[The following is Part 7 of the ongoing story, "Lady Luck" about a happily married trucker who swings with his wife and has a lot of other opportunity on the side. If you missed parts I - VI, they are alive and well and living in the archives. But for now, here’s where we left off:
"She’d singled me out alright. Why make it easy for her? She probably wanted money. She had too much class to hit on a dusty trucker with three-days’ ride on his clothes and not expect lots of money. I didn’t remember no high class professional ladies at this place. But things was changing everywhere, so... And you know what, I was inclined to consider paying her for it, no problem. It was still my birthday, damn it all."
And now for part 7:]
She sat drinking; I sat drinking. She sat there so long, I thought perhaps I had totally misread things. I was about to turn and make some small talk when she spoke.
"You know much about Memphis?" she said. Her voice was a purr, a wild cat purr.
"I drive through it a lot," I said.
"Got a light?" she asked.
"Nah. Jerry’ll have one," I said. "Jerry, could we have a light for the lady?" I reached out when he brought it over. I wanted to get ahold of the thing. To light her cigarette, to have her bow her head my way so I could have me a real good look at the pucker of her lips.
When I flicked the light for her, I got my first look. Stunning. Full lips, painted a pale color. Long eyelashes, downy blond angel hair, sweet button nose, and on down. No bra beneath her pale blue blouse, top three buttons unbuttoned, so if she moved, you thought you might get to see one escape into full view. And when she did move, it was like her hot little titties giggled under the shirt. You know I was hard just sitting there. Getting harder.
"So what’d you want in Memphis?" I asked her.
"A man," she exhaled as she said it.
"Any particular man?" I asked. Whoee, was I sweating just then.
"A man who knows how to treat women good," she said. "A man with good hands, gentle and slow, who takes his time." Hot, embarrassed, I glanced over to see what Jerry was doing. Busy.
She kept on going at it. "I want to find a man who can bend a woman over his knee, slide her skirt up over her soft behind to her waist, just as cool as you please."
"Don’t need no Memphis man for that, lady."
"And when he sees she’s not wearing any undies --"
"She’s not?"
"Uh-uh. And when he sees this, the man I want to find knows exactly what to do. He works her over good with his hands, so she’s wet and loose."
"Yeah?" I said. She was making me so damned hard I thought I wouldn’t even be able to last the hour she’d probably make me pay for. "And what then?"
"This type of man can find his way inside her."
"Yeah, well. And what do you make this guy pay to do all this to the lady in question?"
"Pay?" she said. She frowned at me.
"That’s right, honey. I weren’t born yesterday, you know."
"Ah, see. I knew I’d have to go to Memphis. You’re not talking about the right kind of man at all."
"Why’s that?"
"Cuz I’m looking for a man who won’t pay the lady anything. He takes what he wants and gives her what she needs. And both of em come away happy."
"Honey, you got every man in the place’ll do that for you." Don’t know why I said it. Didn’t want to call attention to the fact or miss my chance, but she had me all shook up.
"But right now, Mister, I’m looking at you," she said.
I watched Jerry for a minute, wondering if that bastard knew it was my birthday and had paid for this one. But if he had, he wasn’t letting on one bit.
"Yeah, OK. I’ll bite," I said. "Suppose I say I’m the one you’re looking for. What do you say to that?"
"Come to my motel room and show me," she said.
"You’re staying here?" I asked. Pretty stupid, I know. I mean the hotel was nice and all, like for families and it was an upgrade from the trucker bunks that were attached to the bar, but still, I couldn’t quite picture this class of a woman staying there."
"You got a husband in your room or something?"
"No," she said, all surprised sounding.
"Yeah, OK," I said. "So let’s go."
I only gave a tiny thought to Mary Louise. Wondered if she’d be jealous, seeing as how this woman here was more beautiful, more money, more like a Hollywood starlet than any of the women we usually got with. And I did have a little image of Mary Louise eating this lady’s soft downy pussy while my dick was inside it. I thought that Mary Louise would enjoy it and felt a little sorry for her missing out. And then that other thought -- about her laughing. And I said, she gets just about all the damned pussy anyway, so now it’s my turn. And it was decided.
She took my hand right away, gave it a squeeze, and then pulled it into her, nudging it into her tittie. Lordie me, so soft I coulda kissed it right there. Man I was trying hard to control myself, but my dick had sprung wild just then and it wasn’t going to stand at ease any time soon.
At her hotel room door, she looked in her purse for the key a second, stopped, looked at me, said, "Oh I get so frustrated sometimes. All this heat just builds up. Could you find the key in there, please." And she stands there, lifts her hands and starts rubbing her titties all around. She reaches under the shirt and does the same thing, then she starts undoing buttons. I’m fumbling in the purse and watching her and wetting my drawers and looking out over the parking lot to see who’s watching all this. And by the time I got the key out she’s standing there with her shirt unbuttoned and the breeze blowing it open just enough so you can see two halves of tit, a gust blows it up and you see a nipple, another gust, and there are a couple of truckers at the far end of the parking lot and a couple coming up, getting a free show as I jam the key in the door.
"Wait," she said. I’m staring down at two of the most perfect titties known to man, with tiny little goose bumps on them from the breeze, just a peeking out from that shiny satin blouse like shy teenaged girls.
"What?" I said.
"There IS someone else in the room."
|
|
