. Last fall I had to put my truck in the shop. It needed a new transmission and as luck would have it, I did not have anywhere near enough money to get it fixed, so I told the shop mechanic to just hold off until I could get the money, it might be a couple of months. I’m disabled and on a fixed income, so the amount of money I needed: five hundred dollars, seemed like a million.

The first thing I did after the truck went in the shop was go down to the city bus station and buy a bus pass which was good for one month and only cost me $15.00. It normally costs a dollar to ride one bus one way, but with the bus pass it would enable me to ride any bus every day for a month and as many rides as I wanted.

My main disability is I can’t walk very well, so riding city buses has disadvantages, too. Sometimes to make a transfer a person might have to walk a few blocks. But all in all, riding the city bus seemed like the logical thing to do.

One afternoon when I was headed out to the hospital on the edge of town I had to catch a bus that only went out there four times a day. The result was I took one bus out to where I would catch the next bus, but there was a forty-five minute wait for the next bus. It must have been about thirty-five degrees outside and by the time the bus got there I had just about froze my ass off.

After I got on I found a seat about half way back. It was late afternoon and most of the riders were people coming home from work. We made a stop and this young man got on, he looked like he might be nineteen or somewhere close to that and he dropped ninety cents in the bus box, but he was a dime short. After searching his pockets and coming up empty and the bus driver was not going anywhere until he got his dime, the young man turned to the people on the bus and asked if anybody could spare a dime. I did not notice anybody around me diving for their purses or pockets so I reached in my pocket and gave the man a dime. He gave it to the bus driver and then thanked me and sat down.

I was amazed that no one else was willing to cough up a dime.

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful.

About a week later the temperature dropped another notch to the point that in the middle of the day it would be about twenty five degrees outside. So when I figured out everywhere I had to go, I tried to work my bus schedule where I would not be waiting on a bus for more than fifteen minutes. But as it turned out one bus ran twenty minutes late so the result I was sitting on an ice cold bus bench for thirty-five minutes. When the bus finally pulled up I felt like the ice man.

The bus was mostly full, so I grabbed the first seat I saw which was next to a woman that looked like she was about twenty two. She immediately started talking, “You look like you are about to freeze to death.”

I was still shaking, even though I was wrapped up pretty good. “Yeah, the bus was late.”

“That’s because at the last stop before yours, the handicap lift broke and the driver had to get out and fix it before the guy in the wheelchair could load up.”

Hearing this did not make me feel thankful that I wasn’t in a wheelchair. But the bus was real warm and I was starting to thaw out. “Shit happens,” I replied.

The woman kind of giggled at that. We rode in silence for a few minutes and then she said,
“Where are you headed?”

“Job interview. Then I’m going to have to wait for another hour to catch this bus back to town. It’ll be dark by then and colder. If the bus runs late I may build a fire at the stop. I’ll just burn the bus bench.”

“So where is your interview?” she asked.

I thought she was a little nosey but what the hell. “It’s about four blocks from the bus stop. The shape I’m in I’ll be dead by the time I walk eight blocks and then wait on this bus for an hour. But that’s the way the ball bounces.”

“Oh.” is all she said.

After riding for another fifteen minutes we finally got to the bus stop I was looking for and both the young woman and I got off. I watched her as she crossed the street and then I headed for my job interview which was at a Subway. I talked to the manager for about ten minutes and then she interrupted me and said I was hired and could start tomorrow at five p.m.

That was great. I told the manager I had to catch a bus so I waited at the Subway for about twenty minutes hoping I would cut the amount of time I had to wait out in the cold. I did not want to wait too long, because sometimes the bus would run early and I did not want to miss my ride.

I finally left and by the time I had walked the four blocks to the bus stop I was really cold. I was surprised to find the young woman I had met on the bus sitting on the bus bench. When I walked up I said, “Are you going back to town?”

“No. I’m waiting for you.” she replied.

Well that threw me for a loop. Kind of had me searching for words for a minute when she said, “I live in those apartments right across the street and I thought you could wait for your bus inside where it is warm.”

Well, I couldn’t turn that kind of a deal down. “Okay, I really appreciate that.” I replied.

I followed her across the street, her apartment was right on the street, downstairs. When we got inside she said, “My name is Kathy Stewart.”
“Glad to meet you. My name is Bill Anderson.”

“Did you get your job, Bill.” she asked as she took off her coat and scarf. She was wearing jeans and a sweater and I couldn’t help but notice that she was almost flat chested.

“As a matter of fact I did.” I replied as I took off my own coat. I looked around the living room. It was neat but sparsely furnished. One chair, a small coffee table and a thirteen inch television sitting on an apple crate. Then on the longest wall there were concrete blocks with two by twelve boards forming a floor to ceiling bookcase that was loaded with books. Since I’m an avid reader I walked over to the bookcase and looked at a few titles. I immediately noticed that all of the books felt with witchcraft and herbolgy. I turned to where Kathy was standing and said, “You must be a witch.”

She did not hesitate, “Yes. But do not be alarmed. I’m a good witch.”

At the far end of the bookcase I noticed a small table covered with a velvet red cloth and in the center was a stone bowl that looked like it might have been hand carved. I walked over and picked it up and looked at it more closely.

From behind me, Kathy said, “That’s what I grind things in when I cast a spell or when I grind my herbs down.”

I kind of laughed and said, “Promise me you won’t turn me into a frog.”

That made her laugh out loud and she said, “Okay, I promise I won’t turn you into a frog.”

“So how long have you been a practicing witch,” I asked.

“I’m new at this. I’ve only been doing it seriously for about ten years.”

Since I thought she was in her early twenties I was doing the math in my head when she said, “I’m thirty-two.”

“You read minds, too.”

“Not really. But I could see the bewilderment on your face and took a wild guess that you thought I was younger.”

“You’re good. And you’re right.” I said.

I went over to the door and looked out. No bus in sight. I looked at my watch. I still had about fifteen minutes before the bus ran. When I turned around, Kathy had disappeared into another room. Then I heard her call out, “Just make yourself at home. I’m changing clothes. I’ll make some hot chocolate, it’ll warm you up.”

I sat down in the only chair. “Don’t bother. My bus will be here in a few minutes.”

Kathy came into the living room, she was wearing lounge pajamas with an almost transparent blue robe that was decorated with fire-breathing dragons. The pajamas were multi-colored, blue, green and yellow and had wizards all over them. They were very loose and therefore completely hid the shape of her body.

Now she was attractive. The outfit did it. “I like that,” I said.

“You might as well take it easy. The bus broke down and it will be a while before they can get another bus out here.” she stated matter-of-factly.

“How do you know that? “ I asked.

“Actually, I heard it on the news right before I walked over to meet you. I knew if you had to sit out there for a few hours then you really would be cold and probably sick, too.”

“That’s just great. Oh, I’m sorry. I really do appreciate you inviting me into your house. You sure are trusting.” I was speaking without thinking because of hearing the bus was broke down that would put me back downtown way late to catch my other bus home.

“I’m in a real fix. I’ll miss my other bus. And there’s no way I can walk ten miles home.

“Well,” she started, paused and then finished, “If you are not afraid of me turning you into a frog.” ..... short pause, “You could spend the night.”

“Oh, that would be too much. Maybe I can get hold of somebody to come pick me up.”

“Now you are making me mad.” she said but I couldn’t tell it because she had a smile on her face. “You really are afraid of me, aren’t you?”

“No, I just don’t want to take too much advantage of your already way to generous offer.”

“Hey, it’s my call. I enjoy having company. I’ll start supper. How’s frog stew sound?” she laughed.

I noticed she laughed a lot. “That sounds great to me as long as I’m not the frog.”

She laughed again and went into the kitchen. I heard her open the refrigerator and rattle some pots and then she entered the living room carrying two bottles of Corona. Instead of hot chocolate, how about a beer?”

I took the beer and said, “Thanks.”

As she was walking back into the kitchen I asked, Is it okay for me to smoke?”
She called back, “Sure go ahead. But the only think I smoke is pot.”

I lit a cigarette. It was the first one I had had today, but it went well with the cold beer. I turned on the television and the news was on. I watched and when the weather came on they said it was going to snow in the wee hours of the morning. ‘Great’ I thought ‘If we get much snow the buses probably won’t run.. ‘

I turned off the televison and went to the bookcase found a great big book called: Complete Guide to Potions. I sat down in the chair and started turning pages. The recipes reminded me of my mother’s cookbooks. I was beginning to smell good smells coming from the kitchen. Kathy stuck her head out of the kitchen and said, “Supper will be ready in just a minute. Find anything interesting?”

“Good. .....Not yet. I was looking for the potion that turns me into a frog.”

“You won’t find it in that book.” she said. She then entered the living room carrying a small table and set in down in the middle of the room. It was just high enough that you could sit on the floor. “Sorry, but we’ll have to eat Chinese style.”

“That’s okay.”I replied.

“Supper should be ready in about fifteen minutes. I made this herb tea for you,” she said as she handed me a hot steaming cup of tea.

I took the cup and sipped the brew. It had a unique taste that I didn’t really care for but it wasn’t that bad so I was determined to drink it so as I not to offend my host.

“So , how is it?” Kathy asked.

“Not bad,” I answered.

“Is that the truth?” she asked.

“No, not really. But it is different.”

“So tell me all about your disability.” she ventured.

“Not that big of a deal. I’m fifty-two years old and I’ve been a diabetic since I was twenty-six. I didn’t really watch my sugar levels the first ten years and now I have neuropathy in my legs and feet, which keeps me from walking much. That four blocks to the job interview about did me in.” I said as I sipped my herb tea.

“You don’t sound down about it.”

“No, I figure there are a lot of other people worse off than me. This is the hand I got dealt. Now I just have to play it out.” I said.

Kathy got up and went around the room lighting candles which were on the coffee table and the bookcase and then she took two off of the bookcase and put them on our little table. When she turned off the lights, shadows danced on all of the walls. Then she returned to the kitchen.

My tea cup was empty and I took a swig of my beer, mainly to get the taste of the tea out of my mouth. Kathy walked in carrying two plates and some silverware and she placed them on the table and told me I could set them up while she got the food. She returned carrying a Dutch oven. She then returned to the kitchen and returned once more carrying a plate of steaming cornbread. I lifted the top off of the pot. It looked like beef stew to me with a lot of vegetables

“Smells good,” I said as I watched her sit down Indian fashion. I noticed her ankles for the first time and both were slim and graceful and both had some kind of tattoos on them and I said, “Oh, you have tattoos.”

“Yes and no. I have one tattoo. With many different scenes within. I’ll show you after supper.” she replied.

Now my curiosity was aroused. I laid the lid to the Dutch oven to one side and ladled out some stew on my plate. Took a slice of cornbread, put too much butter on it - because that’s the way I like it - and then crumbed it up in my stew. Then I took my first bite and I just don’t know how to describe in properly. It was like nothing I had ever eaten before. It was definitely beef stew, but it had so many different flavors I did not recognize and it was fantastic. “This is delicious” I said. And then, “What’s in it?”

“Thank You. In addition to what you’d traditionally find in beef stew there are about twenty-five different herbs and spices. You might call it my own special witches recipe.”

“Well...whatever. It is truly the best stew I’ve ever eaten.”

Then I concentrated on eating and watching Kathy eat. She crumbled her cornbread into the stew just like I did. But where I took great big bites, she ate rather daintedly. .

I finished first and lit a cigarette and just watched her eat.

“I’m a slow eater,” she commented.

She did not say anything while she finished eating. Then she pushed her plate to the side and fumbled in her pocket and produced a short joint. She held it up and said, “Do you want a hit?”

“NO. But you go ahead. I never really got into pot and it has been twenty or more years since I took a hit.”

“Okay,” she said as she lit her joint.
She inhaled deeply and then exhaled and distinguished the rest of the joint. “Ah-h, now that’s much better. Do you want another beer?”

“Sure.” I replied.

She got up and went to the kitchen and returned with two beers. She handed me one, set hers down and then stood up straight and removed her robe. Then she started unbuttoning her pajama top. “Close your eyes and don’t open them until I say,” she said.

“Okay, they’re closed.”

I heard her clothes rustling and then she said, “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

And what I saw when I opened my eyes blew me away. The tattoo covered her whole body, arms, legs, back, everything. It was one large multi-colored, fire-breathing dragon with two heads. A huge wizard stood before the dragon. The wizard covered most of her stomach and chest area and he wore a pointy hat. The background which seemed to cover every inch of her body except for her feet, hands, and neck consisted of bright, green vegetation and
red, yellow, and black snakes. Although Kathy was completely nude, I could not tell it. She wore the tattoo like an outfit.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“It’s beautiful. But, did it hurt? How long did it take?”

“Yes, at times it was uncomfortable. And I’ve been working on it for eight years. It is not finished.” she said and sat down.

I sipped my beer which was making me a little light-headed and just studied the many facets of her art work. I tried to make out her nipples and when I finally realized I was looking at them- they were blended into the dragon, I kind of blushed and looked away.

Kathy reached up and tried to cup her almost completely flat breasts and said, “Not much here. Most men prefer big breasts. But I like these just fine.”

I was getting uncomfortable. I did not know what this young woman, twenty years my junior, expected of me. I knew I could not perform. The combination of my diabetes, diabetic neuropathy, and four kinds of blood pressure medicine had left me impotent for over five years. Of you’re my libido was not affected and I was having all kinds of thoughts right now that I could not control. I wanted to jump up and smother her with kisses and put my tongue in places.....well, you get the drift.

“They’re okay. Uh, I, uh, “ I stammered.

Then I felt myself getting an erection. This really surprised me because it had been awhile since I had had one. Of course I’m a normal male. I occasionally masturbate and do it until I ejaculate but when I do I never get an erection. So when I became impotent, it pretty much ended my sex life with partners. I made eye contact with Kathy and she was smiling. “Why don’t you get out of those clothes. I want to see what you look like,” she said.

I’ve never thought that I am shy. However, it had been some time since I had disrobed in front of a woman. So I was a little slow and awkward at getting started. “Stand up,” she commanded.

I did and when I was standing before her she began to unbutton my shirt. I really didn’t know what to do, so I reached up and cupped her little mounds of breasts in my hands and began to finger her flat nipples, which now that I was up close I noticed that the actual areolas were as big as silver dollars. As I caressed her nipples they began to harden and grow. Kathy had the shirt unbuttoned and was working on my belt. When she undid it she slid my pants and boxer shorts down to my ankles and I stepped out of them and removed my shirt. Then she reached down and took my erect penis in her hand. “This is some big boy,” she said.

But I knew that was a lie. It had never been longer than five inches, even when it was hard and even when I was twenty. I just never had had a big penis.

I felt like I was in a trance. Here I was about to make love to a beautiful, young, tattooed woman. And she seemed to be the one that wanted it. I embraced her and started to kiss her on the lips, but she pulled back. “Bill, I don’t kiss. Too many germs.”

Now that was a little strange. But I pulled back and then placed my mouth over her left nipple.
“Is this okay,” I mumbled around her breast.

“Oh-h-h, yes,” she replied.

Then we eased down to the floor and made love for what seemed like hours. Then we drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

The next morning I woke up alone on the floor, naked and cold. I sat up and looked around. The living room was completely empty except for my clothes which were piled up next to me with my long overcoat on top. I stood up and walked to the kitchen. It was spotless and it was also empty. I looked in the cabinets and they also were empty. Then I walked to the bedroom. Not a thing was in it. Just four bare walls and a doorway leading into the bathroom. I went into the bathroom to relieve myself. I must have peed for a full three minutes. It felt so good to empty my bladder.

I looked at my watch and it said: four fifteen. But it was light out, so that must mean it was afternoon. I could dress for work and just make it. So I went back into the living room and put my clothes on, then my overcoat and hurried out the door to my new job. I didn’t understand what was happening but I knew I would figure it out later.

My bosses name at Subway was Melissa. She greeted me as I came through the door. “Just work the cash register tonight. I want to watch and see how you handle money. Let me show you how it works. It is pretty simple.” Melissa said.

I took off my overcoat and went to work. The cash register was simple and soon after I got there the store got busy. By nine o’clock we had done over six hundred dollars in sandwiches. Melissa told me that we closed at midnight and that it usually took about half an hour to clean the store. I took a break, smoked a cigarette and called a friend who I knew was working a security post and got off at midnight and asked if he would give me a ride home. He said he would and I finished my cigarette and went back to work. I stayed too busy to think much about the night before.

We had the store swept, mopped and cleaned by twelve-twenty and I went out to wait for my friend. It was cold. My friend, Bob showed up about twelve-forty-five. “Sorry, about the wait. My relief ran late.”
Bob said.

“No problem. I’m just glad I could catch a ride.” I said as I reached into my pocket to get some money to offer Bob for the ride. When I pulled my hand out of my pocket I was holding a wad of cash. I quickly counted it. It was two thousand dollars. ‘Whoa, what’s going on here?’ I thought. When I had left home the day before I only had ten dollars in cash. I pulled a five dollar bill out of the wad and quickly stuck the rest of the cash in my pocket. I offered the five to Bob. He took it. “Thanks, this will help out.” he said. “What have you been up too, old timer?” he asked.

I wanted to try and tell Bob what had happened to me last night, but to tell the truth, I wasn’t sure what had happened. Bob was about my age and he would never believe that a thirty-two year old woman had seduced me. So I said, “Not much. Truck is in the shop. That’s the reason I’m working.” Need some money to get it fixed.”

“Yeah, same o same o.” Bob said.

We got to my house pretty quick, I thanked him for the ride and went inside.

It was chilly. I had turned the thermostat down before I left. I put it on eighty just to warm things up in a hurry. Went to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee and then took my overcoat off. That’s when I noticed a big lump in the pocket. I reached in and pulled out a large zip-lock bag that looked like it was full of dead grass. A sealed envelope was inside the bag and I took it out and opened it.

Inside was a letter and I took it out and began to read:

Dearest Bill,
Thank You for a wonderful evening. I know so much more about you than you
Will ever know. I know you have a truck in the shop and that‘s why you went to
Work and that’s why I slipped two grand in your pocket. The zip-lock bag contains my special herbs for your impotency problem. Use two pinches of dry matter and boil for ten minutes then let steep for about twenty minutes. You can’t buy this special mix in a store
so from time to time you’ll get a new supply in the mail. Not everything that happened last night was what you thought. For one thing, I’m not thirty-two, but one hundred and seven. Well, I am a witch and I cast an illusion that I thought you’d like. And, last but not least, I did not turn you into a frog.

Love,

Kathy

I re-read the letter several times. Then I went to bed and the next morning I hurried down to the city bus depot to renew my monthly pass. And wandered who I would meet on the bus today.

The End

© Copyright 2004 INMAN-working on house (UN: inman at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
INMAN-working on house has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.




Carnival Time


I don’t know what got into me on that July afternoon, but I guess it was the heat and also I was missing Dave, my husband who had passed away three years ago. I had run away from home when I was nineteen and joined up with a carnival. That’s where I met Dave Gonzales. He had a photo booth at the carnival. It was all self-contained in a twenty-eight foot trailer. He had it set-up where you could shoot portraits on both ends and then their was a darkroom in the middle of the trailer. They were doing black and white portraits back then and business at the fairs and carnivals was good. Especially for young couples. Anyway he hired me as a photographer. Trained me himself and by the end of the first season I was the best photographer he had.

That year I went to work for Dave, he was fifty. Two years later we got married. I still worked one end of the trailer taking pictures and usually Dave would work the darkroom. Spending fourteen hours a day standing up in the dark started to get to him, so he started hiring people to work in the darkroom.

Back then we lived in a pick-up camper. And although their wasn’t much room in it, it was okay. We were taking pictures fourteen hours a day so about the only time we were in the camper was when we were asleep. When I turned twenty-five we had an exceptionally good year and I talked Dave into buying a mini motorhome. It was the same lenght as our trailer, twenty-eight feet. But it was like a castle after living in the pick-up camper for five years.

Dave died of a heart attack when I was twenty-eight. We were set up in Cheyenne, Wyoming at the Wild West Days Rodeo. We had four people working for us plus me and Dave. That allowed for two people to be taking pictures, one on each end of the trailer. Then one person was in the darkroom and the other three people would be standing outside luring people off the midway in to get their photo taken. We had been averaging two thousand dollars a day and that’s a lot of work when you consider the price of the picture was only two ninety-nine.

Dave had given one of the guys a break and was working in the darkroom when it happened.
I had called one of the paramedics that was at the rest station at the rodeo but by the time they had gotten him to the hospital, it was to late. I canceled the rest of the rodeo, went back home to Arkansas, that’s where Dave was from, buried my husband, and decided I’d been on the road long enough.

We had bought ten acres right outside of Pangburn, Arkansas and that’s where we would head between fairs or carnivals. About ten or so photo trailers were parked around the property. When we were home, Dave was always building a new trailer to work out of. He was trying to improve the set-up that we worked out of to make it more economical.

The first year after he died I just hung around the house. He had really good insurance and if I wanted to I would never have to work again. At the time of his death that sounded good, but after not doing anything for a year I missed the excitement of the carnivals. The crowds, meeting people from different parts of the country, the fast paced excitement of the carnival life.

So I took out mini motor home down to the dealer and traded it in on a brand new, full sized bus motorhome, It was forty-five foot long and I had the inside redesigned to my specifications. I had my private bedroom in the back of the bus. And up front where the little living room was I had convertible tables put in on both sides. At night the tables would convert to beds. Their was a little kitchen and a bathroom complete with shower. Then in order to pull the photo trailer and be legal going down the road I had to redesign it to be not more than twenty feet long. That took some real creative rearranging. But with the help of a trailer manufacturer we finally came up with a system that would work. And instead of a black and white darkroom I installed a state of the art color darkroom.

Then I hired some local young people in their early twenties and trained them by working little county fairs around Arkansas. When everybody I’d hired was ready we hit the road on the big state fair and carnival circuit. I remember how good it was to get back on the road.

Ever since Dave had died I had not gotten into any relationships. For awhile I just couldn’t get my late husband out of my mind. But I was still young and I had needs. So I went to one of the Adult stores in Little Rock and purchased a couple of sex toys, you know the ones that vibrate, and that’s how I took care of my primal urges.

Which brings us to that July afternoon. We had our photo trailer set up at the Dallas, Texas state fair. It was one of the biggest and longest fairs that we booked each year. Thirty-one days set up in one place. And everyday we worked twelve to fourteen hours. It got grueling at times but I was averaging two to three grand a day. After I paid my help I would clear fifteen to eighteen hundred and that’s per day.

I had four people traveling with me. Two guys and two girls. One of the guys was Jack Key who had been with me for just under a year. I originally trained him to be a photographer but now he was working in the darkroom. He was about twenty-three, about five-nine, had black hair, blue eyes and when he wasn’t in the darkroom he was out on the midway trying to score a piece of ass. Sometimes I’d have to get one of the other photographers to go hunt him down when he was supposed to be back at work.

The other guy working for me was a nineteen year old who I had trained to be a photographer.
He was about six-three, blond hair and was a little stocky. When he wasn’t working he was chasing down a hamburger. I think that’s all I ever saw him eat. Even when I occasionally fixed meals on the bus, Billy Childers wanted a hamburger. And he always wanted it with pickle, onion, and mustard.

Kathy Miller was the oldest woman I had working. She was twenty-six. She had just gotten a divorce when I had hired her and liked the freedom of traveling all of the time. In her spare time I would usually find her on the bus reading a novel. She was my number one darkroom person, but she preferred to stand out in front of the trailer and lure people in to get their picture made. With her long blonde hair and clear blue eyes she was a natural born sales person.

Alice Jones was a silly girl even though she was eighteen. At five-two, red hair and green eyes, she spent all of her free time making friends and being silly. But she was a good photographer. Jack had trained her himself and I had hired her because she was one of my friend’s daughter from back home in Arkansas. She had never been away from home before and I had promised to try and keep an eye on her. But with this fast-paced life that was near impossible.

Anyway, it was July and for some reason the Dallas midway and really slowed down and I didn’t need to be at the photo trailer so I told my crew I was going to the bus and lay down. Billy was already on the bus and when I opened the door and went up the three little steps, I wasn’t surprised to see him cooking a hamburger.

“You are going to turn into a hamburger, Billy,” I said as I squeezed past him on the way to my bedroom.

“I like them,” he replied. Then he asked, “Is it still slow down at the trailer?”

“Yes, there’s no need for you to hurry back.”

I went into my bedroom and sat down on the queen-sized bed, propped some pillows up and kind of leaned back. The air conditioner was on and it was cool and it felt so good to be out of the heat. After a few minutes I grew restless. I just didn’t know what to do and didn’t know what I wanted to do. I closed my eyes and started thinking about Dave. That was a mistake. It had been so long that I’d been without a man that I immediately began to get damp between the legs. I considered getting one of my toys out of the bedside table. But instead I got up and paced the small area next to the bed. I walked over and looked through the peephole on my door and saw Billy sitting at one of the tables eating his hamburger. I wondered what it would be like to have a nineteen year old dick deep inside of me. Instantly I tried to dismiss that thought. I had never had any physical contact with any of my employees. I walked back to the bed and sat down, took off my shirt, took off my bra, and I was just starting to pull off my jeans when there was a knock at the door.

“Carol, are you asleep?” Billy shouted.

I walked over to the door and said, “No. What’s up?”

“The midway manager wants to see you.”

Damn, I thought. Just as I’d gotten undressed. I looked at my shirt and bra laying on the bed and then put the shirt back on. I walked up to the front of the bus and noticed a guy standing down by the door. “Can I help you?” I asked.

The man looked like a carny. I could tell he was Italian with the heavy dark eyebrows and the jet black hair. He was wearing a white shirt and tie with the tie pulled down and the top button undone and the shirt was sweat stained all over. He had a big cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m Gary from the fair office. I need to collect some money for the electricity.” he said.

The deal when you set up at a fair was you paid so much per foot for your booth and then you normally paid a flat feet based on the number of feet your booth was, for electricity. “How much do you need?” I asked.

“Two Hundred dollars,” Gary said.

“Give me just a minute.”

I sat down next to Billy who was still eating his hamburger and counting cash that we had taken in that morning. “Let me have two hundred dollars.”

Billy counted out two hundred dollars in twenties and handed it to me. I took the money and walked down the steps of the bus to where Gary was standing and handed him the money. He started writing out a receipt and asked, “What name do you want this in?”

“Carol Gonzales.” I said.

Gary did a kind of double take. “You don’t look like you are Spanish.” he said as he handed me the receipt.

“That’s my husband’s name.” I said as I took the receipt.

“Ah, okay.” Gary said and walked off.

When I went back into the bus I handed Billy the receipt and said, “You know what to do with this and when you get the money counted and put up come back to my bedroom I want to talk.”

“Okay, boss, it’ll be about ten minutes.”

When I got back to my bedroom I closed the door but I didn’t lock it. I slipped off my shirt and ran a fingernail over my left nipple. It immediately got hard and erect. I felt the dampness between my legs and I knew in my heart what I was about to do was not ethical but I couldn’t help myself. I lit a cigarette and waited.

Fifteen minutes passed and then a knock at the door. “Come in.” I said.

When Billy opened the door he was bent over a little due to his six-three height and when he saw me with my shirt off he tried to quickly turn away, but he bumped his head on the doorframe and said “Ouch!”

Still half turned around in the doorway Billy said, “I’m sorry, Boss, I didn’t know you were undressed.”

“What’s wrong, Billy, haven’t you ever seen breasts before. Just come on in and lock the door.”

“Ah, y-y-es. But, ah, don’t k-k-now is this r-right?” he stuttered and stammered.
“Just come on in and lock the door.” I replied.

This time he did as I’d told him to do. He was standing at the corner of the bed, half turned away from me and he asked, “What did you want?”

“What I want is for you to sit down next to me and massage my breasts.”

“Oh! Maybe I had better go find Jack.”

“No, you are here and you will do fine.”

“B-b-but, I d-d-don’t know if I know how.” Billy said as he sat on the bed. His eyes were looking everywhere except at my breasts.

“Give me your hands.” I commanded.

Tentavily he put his hands out in front of him and I took one in each hand and placed them on my full breasts. “Now just rub them.” I said.

Finally Billy looked down at my breasts. His eyes got wide but he didn’t say anything. He started rubbing me but his touch was light as a feather.

“Harder, Billy, rub harder.” I said.

He did and I was getting hornier by the minute. Billy began to squeeze my nipples which made the juices between my legs start to run. When he bent over and took my right nipple into his mouth I swooned. “Yes, Billy, Yes.”

I looked down at him and his face was the color of fresh beets. But at the same time he was really getting the hang of sucking my nipples. First he would flick his tongue over the right nipple then he would switch to the left nipple. After a minute I told him, “Undress.”

Billy turned my breasts loose and stood up and turned his back to me and began slipping off his clothes. When he got down to his underwear he turned towards the bed. I reached up and tugged on his briefs, “Everything, Billy. I want to see all of you.”

There was a big bulge in his briefs and he awkwardly pulled them off. When his erection popped out it looked to be as hard as steel. I reached out and took it into my hand. He was standing still as a statue. “Relax, Billy. This isn’t going to hurt.” I said as I pumped his erection back and forth. He was still stiff as a board.

I turned him loose and stood up and quickly slipped my jeans and panties off and took his hand and placed it on my triangle of pubic hair. He drew his hand back and said, “You are wet.”

“Yes, Billy. It is from my excitement.”

Billy put his hand back and began to explore. It was obvious to me that he had never touched a woman before. I took him in my arms and began to kiss his face, his lips, his ears. I moved down to his shoulders and kissed his neck, then I moved down to his nipples which were small and bright red and I flicked my tongue over each nipple and felt them grow hard between my lips. I could feel him begin to relax in my arms. He started to rub my back.

I rolled Billy over onto the bed. He was on his back. I straddled him and raised up on my knees and grabbed his erect penis which was still hard and guided him to the mouth of my vagina. I was so wet now it was running down my thighs. I watched his face as I lowered myself down on his dick. His eyes were shut tight. Oh, it felt so good. His dick wasn’t that long, maybe six inches, but it was fat and thick. Going in it was tight. Slowly I lowered my body until our pubic hairs were touching. Then I slowly started to raise myself up. Up, up, up. Then ever so slowly I dropped down, down, down. My young lover was breaking out in a sweat and his breathing, as my own, was heavy and rough.

The next time I fully empaled him I laid down on top of him pressing my breasts against his chest. Then I began to hump him. It felt so good to have a dick deep inside of me I wanted the moment to last forever, but then I heard Billy began to whimper and he said, “I’m gonna cum.”

I jumped off quickly. I wanted to watch. I grabbed his erection and began to jack him off. When he started to ejaculate it went everywhere. And Billy started crying, “I couldn’t wait, I couldn’t wait.”

Even as he finished cumming I continued to massage and jack him off and as the very last drop of cum escaped the top of his dick he began to get soft. “Now, now, you did real good. Just relax and in a few minutes I’ll you can help me get off.”

“I don’t think I can get another hard-on.” He said.

“Just relax, Billy I think you will surprise yourself. So, I think it is safe to say that you were a virgin.”

“Y-yes.” Billy replied. He still looked tensed up.

“You can’t be telling the other employees.”

“I won’t.”

I took his limp penis in my hand and began to massage it and stroking it up and down. His eyes got wide when the organ began to get hard. He kind of perched himself on his back, but I said, “No, this time you get to be on top.” I laid down in the middle of the bed and Billy got between my legs and slowly inserted his cock. He kind of teased me by not putting more than the head in. Imagine that, I thought, he is already a professional fucker. When he finally gave me all of it, it felt so-o-o good. “Faster, harder,”I yelled.

Billy began to hump me like there was no tomorrow. My juices were streaming out of me and running down the crack of my butt. Oh, it had been so long and it felt so good. I couldn’t wait any longer. I reached down with my hand and rubbed my clit and that is all it took. My first orgasm was so intense I thought I would pass out. My pussy started contracting and this caused Billy to explode. I could feel his hot seed hitting the back of my pussy. Then my second orgasm kicked into high gear. It wasn’t quite as intense as the first one, but boy did it feel good. I wrapped my legs around Billy’s back so he could not pull out. And then a third orgasm started up. When that one ended I was exhausted and so oh satisfied.

Billy had gotten off and was laying on his side watching me. I laid there with Billy for about half an hour and then I told Billy that maybe he ought to go check out the photo booth and that I would be right behind him.

When I got dressed and got to the booth, Billy acted like he always did and nobody was the wiser.

Business picked up later that evening and that always made my day. And when we rolled things up that night and I was all snuggled up in my bed, I did not need my sex toys. In fact, I haven’t used them at all since Billy and I had our little fling.

And I’ve noticed since me and Billy fucked that when he is off work he is not only out eating hamburgers but now he is hitting on girls.

© Copyright 2004 INMAN-working on house (UN: inman at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
INMAN-working on house has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.


Express Lane Blues
By Inman
Fiction

John stopped at the store to pick up a quick package of smokes. He went to the express check-out where only one woman was at the check-out. She had just laid three items down and had four items in her arm. She told the checker she wanted to pay for the two groups separately.
The checker rang up the first three items and put them in a bag.

The lady then opened her purse and rummaged around for a couple of minutes and finally found some money and paid the clerk. When she got her change she put it back in her purse and closed her purse.

Then the clerk rang up the next four items. Once they were in the bag, the lady opened her purse and rummaged around for a couple of minutes and finally found some money and paid the clerk.

John was silently cursing under his breath. Come on bitch, let’s get a move on, you knew that you were going to have to pay, why did you wait until the last minute to get your money out and then why did you put your change up when you knew you were going to have to pay for the second group of items?

The lady left and John stepped up to the counter and said, “May I have a package of Marlboro Lights 100's, Please?”

“I’ll have to go to the office to get them. I’ll be right back.” the clerk said.

While John was waiting he was looking at signs. The express sign said fifteen items or less.
A big, fatwoman pushing a shopping cart loaded to the point that it looked like something might fall out parked her buggy behind John.

John knew there was a lot more than fifteen items in the basket but he didn’t say anything out loud.

The clerk came back with his cigarettes and he paid and started to leave when he noticed the woman behind him begin to unload her shopping basket on the belt.

John confronted the clerk, “I thought this was an express lane. Are you really going to check this woman out with over a hundred items? “ John asked.

The clerk was a little embarassed to be put on the spot. “This isn’t any of your business. You’ve got your cigarettes, just go on and leave and keep your nose out of where it does not belong.” the clerk said.

“I get damn, fucking tired of coming into a store when I’m in a hurry and having to fucking wait in the express lane because you won’t tell these fucking people that have to many items in their basket to go to another lane.” John said.

The clerk tried to ignore John and picked up the first item to scan,

“Oh no you don’t,” John said as he grabbed the clerk’s hand to prevent her from scanning the first item. “I want the store manager over here PD fucking Q. Let’s see what he has to say about this?” John was getting louder by the second.

The clerk glared at John and then spoke into the intercom, “Will the manager come to the Express Lane please.” She said.

Almost instantly a man was standing there. A badge that said: Bob Jones, Manager was on his shirt.

Bob Jones said, “I’m the manager. What is the problem here?”

“This man won’t let me check the customer’s groceries.”the clerk said.

“Hold on one fucking minute. The sign says fifteen items or less. How many items do you think are in this lady’s basket. I’m getting tired of coming into a store that has an express lane and then have to wait for a long time because some ass hole customer can’t read the sign and the fucking ass hole clerk is afraid to tell the customer that this lane is reserved for fifteen items or less.” John said.

The store manager, Bob Jones looked at the belt that was already piled high with groceries. There was about eight people in line behind the lady and nobody had over two or three items in their hands. The manager said, “In the future I’ll inform the clerks to tell customers who have more than fifteen items to go to another check out lane, but since this lady already has her cart almost completely unloaded, I’m going to let the clerk check her out because that will be faster.”

“I’ll be a son of a bitch. You mother humper. I demand that this lady check out somewhere else.
John said.

“Listen, I’m the store manager and it is my decision, not yours. If you don’t leave I’ll have to call the police.”

“Okay, call the fucking Police.” John said.

There was a lady behind the big woman and she said. “Why don’t you read the fucking sign lady. You have more than fifteen items.”

“Yeah” someone else shouted from the back of the line. “This is an express lane, can’t you read?”

The manager reached for the telephone and dialed 911 and someone on the other end answered right away. “911, How may I help you?”

“Do you have this address. I need the police here right away. There is a man standing here that will not let the checker do her job.” Bob Jones said.

Several people that were in line behind the fat lady moved to another check out lane.

“Is the man armed? “ the 911 operator asked the manager.

“No, he is not armed.” the manager replied.

“The Police are on the way. Try to stay calm.” the 911 operator said.

Just about that time a police car pulled up to the front doors of the store and two police officers walked into the store and up to where the manager was standing. One officer spoke, “What seems to be the problem here, Bob? “

“This man, “ and the manager pointed at John and then continued, “Will not let the clerk check this lady out.”

The two police focused their attention on John and before they could speak John blurted out, “This lane is an express lane for fifteen items or less. The clerk refused to ask this lady to go to another lane. Case closed. I interviened.”

The police officers looked at one another and then they turned to Bob Jones and the one that had spoken earlier said, “He has a point, Bob.”

Bob Jones turned to the big, fat lady and said, “I’m sorry. You’ll have to reload your basket and go to another lane. This is the express lane.”

The lady huffed up and said, “I’ll just go somewhere else.” and she waddled by John and walked out of the store.

The clerk started putting her stuff back into the basket. John turned around and helped.

The police officer said, “Is everything okay here?”

Bob Jones said, “Yes, thanks for coming out so quickly.”

The officer said, “I guess you better enforce your own rules or take the express lane sign down.”

Once they had the basket full, John said, “Thank You for doing your job.” and he left the store.

The End
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