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I waved a hand to indicate how her nipples were trying to bore holes in
her top and she just shrugged and smiled innocently. Maybe she did know.
Willie was sure watching her backside as we walked to the Pancake House.
When we got in the booth, he had choked and spit water over him and
Clara when Bits had done her stretching thing. I was glad I hadn’t been
taking a drink myself and I had seen it before.
Thanks to Bits’ stretch, the male waiter was at our table instantly. He
couldn’t take his eyes off of her as he scribbled our orders. I knew
there would be trouble as Willie always liked his eggs done in a
particular way: over medium with the whites firm, but the yellows
liquid. His sausage had to be done with no crust on it , but no pink
either and well drained. He hated toast, so he usually had biscuits if
they were browned on top without being too brown on bottom. He liked
gravy on his biscuits, but most gravy available was usually not good, so
he had quit trying. Hash browns were to be browned a bit, but not
crusty. Pancakes on the side- He was a growing boy!
Bits ordered a Denver Omelet and some other stuff.
I had the same- whatever it was.
My eyes were feasting on her. I have no idea what Clara ordered.
I know what was distracting my eyes... And the rest of the guys that
were in the Pancake House... and it was mine. I circled Bits with my arm
and, true to form, she snuggled right in next to me. She grabbed my
beard so I would bend down for a long kiss. Heaven! I could hear half of
the guys sigh in jealousy. Bits was oblivious to it and, like I said
before, totally uninhibited.
Willie sat in the booth across from us, “I think I’m gonna be sick. I
can’t take this much saccharin.” He shook his head in pretended dismay.
Clara, with a mother-to-baby accent said, “Oh, is the big man jealous?
Does him want some sugar too?” She planted one on Willie that would
bring out the sweat on most any man and Willie was no exception. She
left him speechless, which was a rare occurrence and most welcome. Now
every man in the house hated us both. It was a trip watching all the
emotions play across their features. Mostly jealousy.
Meanwhile Bits had contented herself with nibbling on my neck as she
half sat- half kneeled on the booth seat. Her hands were getting a
little too frisky for public, so I hissed at her to behave. She gave me
a pinch where she had been caressing. I almost screamed. I settled for a
grunt. Note: <Do not frustrate or interfere with an elf who has anatomy
you value in her hands!!!>
The waiter brought our food. He was doing his best to look down any
neckline he could. Since both girls were quantity and quality he had a
fairly good opportunity. Willie stuck his foot out and would have
tripped him had the waiter not caught a glimpse of it and gotten the
hint. Willie shook a finger at him which spoke volumes.
Clara was amused, “Hell, if he wants to see my titties, I’ll show him.
Probably make him trip on his hard-on though.”
Bits chimed in, “I won’t show him mine unless Way says I should.” Made
me kinda proud in a way, the look she was giving me.
The meal finished, luckily without too many more disasters, Willie and I
started planning our day. We basically did this every work day,
including Saturdays. Some times we’d meet at a favored restaurant,
sometimes at my place, if I felt like cooking. Some times at his wife’s
and sometimes at his mistresses’. It was like a ceremony with us. Our
days were long and filled with a variety of things. We spent a lot of
time together, but had learned to plan and work as a team for maximum
effectiveness. The breakfast meetings let us plan our days. It was
usually the only meal until supper, late at night.
The first thing we needed to do
was to make up an order for Clara to turn in to Lenter Enterprises and
get the head shop open. Our most trusted employee Sam Dells would have
the door open and be selling like mad by the time we got there we knew.
Being an ex-biker and full time hippie didn’t keep him from being a good
and trusted friend to us.
We treated him more like a partner than an employee. He was so valuable
as a manager, we gave him a
percentage of the profits. If he had a drawback it was that he had done
a few too many acid trips and would occasionally just weird out. The
best treatment we had found was to be sure he had plenty of good smoke,
some downers and a bit of wine to get it in gear again. Fortunately we
knew the warning signs well. It helped if there was a girl to keep him
under control. Lately Sherry had been that girl.
She was an attractive Earth Mother that kept worrying about Sam. She had
called me one night in tears when Sam had been behaving in a manner she
didn’t understand and we had talked for hours. Now she knew as much as I
did about Sam and she still wanted to be with him. There is somebody for
everybody...
After the order for Clara, I had to get an ad together for the radio
stations, KADI and KSHE. I was thinking of dropping the latter, as they
were becoming less underground and more commercial. KADI on the other
hand had allocated Willie and me a time slot on late night as DJ’s on
the weekends and given us a hell of a discount on the rest of our ads.
We got paid to broadcast and a lower price on our own ads, Win- Win!
I needed my head clear as Tony, the sales rep from KSHE was coming over
to pitch us (me) on a new contract and to up our spots we were carrying.
I needed time to set up the office to remind him why we were the most
prestigious account he had.
I also had to get an ad together for the St. Louis Outlaw, our
underground paper. I had some sketches done and plenty of time. Deadline
wasn’t until Tuesday. My stuff was no problem for them to print. We had
a sale on some Rock posters we had gotten in this week and I would
feature that. We were buying a lot in quantity and even had some smaller
outlying shops that were buying from us wholesale. Most of our stuff we
bought was an extra third off due to the quantity. Of course, you can’t
make too many mistakes when buying in quantity and so far we hadn’t. Willie had to go get the bars we had interest in, set for tonight. Sir Robins Den on the back side of the airport didn’t need much attention and we only had a third interest in it. The owner had needed money for remodeling and licenses, so we bought in a few months ago. Thirteenth Hour on St. Charles Rock Road, we owned most of and the other part belonged to a criminal lawyer who wanted to remain a silent partner. We finally bought him out. Since we had Blue Laws in St. Louis, Saturday night was the big money maker. Sunday the bars were closed. The head shop opened at 5:00pm until 9:00pm on Sundays in the winter time and a good 25% of our sales were made then. It was very crowded, as not much else in town was happening. Hippies don’t bowl, go to movies and are too broke to shop at the malls usually. Head shops that handled what they needed for their mind gamery were where their money was spent and we prided ourselves on how our shop fit the bill in all aspects without cheating.
We picked up Bits’ case and her hangered clothes, as she would be
staying with me at the apartment for the weekend. I was already dreading
her leaving with Clara on Tuesday to go back to K.C., but that was three
days off.
Sure enough, Sam had the doors open and a good crowd was already piling
in when we arrived. I drove around back to the parking lot by the
cleaners. I parked in my sort of reserved spot. Willie wouldn’t be by
until later, if at all. It depended on the bars.
Bits and I trudged down the alley and she was startled to see a police
car parked in the secluded “L” the alley made at the Head Shop’s back
door. I walked up on the passenger side. It was Malone, a hippie’s best
friend. He and the other cops that enjoyed illegal smiles were why we
could get away with so much.
“What’s up Malone? I haven’t gotten another ticket have I?”
“No-Way...” He snickered at his favorite joke. “I just came by for...”
his voice trailed off as he noticed Bits. “Who is that?”
“It’s cool man. She’s my girl.” I slid a proprietary arm around her and
hugged her to me. “That’s why I’m late. Got time for some coffee? It’s
some Kona from Hawaii I had sent in. Just got it on Wednesday so it’s
fresh”
“Jeez... Yeah, yeah I got a little time.” He hitched his large self out
of the squad car and followed me in the back door to the office- holding
the door for Bits. She gave
him a smile that would melt a glacier. He admired her anatomy. Man she
was nice to have around. Easy on the eyes too.
Bits asked where the rest room was and I indicated across the hall from
the office. She pushed back through the beaded curtain and closed the
restroom door. Malone settled into an arm chair provided for visitors. I
checked the coffee. Good old Sam. He had made a fresh batch. The aroma
wafted throughout the room. Malone eyed the coffee pot with a certain
hunger. I poured him a cup and handed it to him. He sipped nosily and
smacked his lips in appreciation.
“Man I wish we had coffee like this in the squad bay. ‘Course I’d never
go on a call if they did. Heh heh heh!”
I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a baggie of weed. I rolled
it in a tight bundle, placed it in a small paper bag and handed it to
the cop as he handed me a similar small bag.
“That’s the samples from the County Cops. Rick said he’d be by for the
results Monday. The bread for the other ‘coffee’ is in there too. Is it
really Kona Gold?”
“Yup. The real McCoy.” The bag Malone had given me had zip locks full of
pills, chunks, balls and cubes. Also some bills “for the ‘coffee’...”
“Malone, I want to thank you again for getting me this “consultant” gig
with the County Fuzz. I sure have a nice stash built up out of the
leftovers. I’m stashing the bread I get for a big wing-ding come
Thanksgiving. Turkey dinner catered, gourmet cookin’ and all the drugs,
booze, and broads any of you cops could want. Just no wives.” I smiled
at the large cop trying to place him with one of the girls from the bar.
He was just so big it would take an exceptional broad. Maybe a
stripper from the De Bolliver Strip clubs by Willie’s ex-cop cousin’s
place...
“Hell, Way. Most uv us ain’t married anymore anyway. I think the Chief
is gonna come. I told him about it and he said he was lookin’ forward to
it. Changin’ the subject a bit, what about that little dish you got
here? She shore is a stone fox....”
“I dunno Malone. We’re kinda new and she’s a bit special...”
“Who’s special? Are you bad boys talking about me? I wouldn’t be
surprised. Is that a water bed back there Way? Are we gonna try it out?”
Bits made a magpie seem mute. But nobody seemed to mind. we just
chuckled.
Willie arrived from the front after probably illegally parking in front
of the shop. Malone raised an eyebrow at him, but Willie just went into
a song and dance. Then I remembered that Clara had her samples in her
car in the movie parking lot. I heard Sam thrashing and cussing as he
carried in a couple of large cases followed by Clara. She commandeered
them and started getting her order sheets ready. Malone jumped up and
said his goodbyes and was out the door and gone in a flash. All Clara
got to see was a wide-load back side leaving.
Sam was helping as much as an over-amped acid-head can. He was strong as
a bull, but there were some coordination issues. Clara seemed to
understand this intuitively and kept him away from the more delicate
pieces.
Willie looked at Clara and said, “Baby, we will order a lot, but you
have to get us a price on what we do get. Normally we will order say
three dozen of those stash pipes that are 24 bucks wholesale and get
them down to 21 dollars. What can you do?”
“Let me borrow your phone.” She dialed a number and after a moment was
explaining what Willie had said to it. She listened and said “Yessir” a
couple of times, hung up and turned to us. “OK, here's the deal. I will
give you a better price, but I need a bit more quantity. Like those
little stash pipes, if you make the order for 6 dozen, I’ll give you $18
a dozen.” We both nodded agreement.
The next hour went that way with negotiated prices and a growing list of
pipes: glass and metal. There were some deer antler pipes and good
looking buttons I felt our
leathersmith would love. Carburetors, posters, cases of papers. We
called Sam in for that and managed to add over 8 new types of papers
that were in cases. Sam was our expert on what would sell and what
wouldn’t since he sold 90% of the papers. Hell, he looked like a real
hippie should with his beard and electric hair, but he was a merchant at
heart.
There were some novelty items we skipped over, but incense she had loads
of types and flavors. We burned a couple to see what the new scents were
like. We bought a shit-load of that. We totaled the order and it was
well over three grand. After another phone call, I made out a check for
the full amount less 5% for Cash-Up-Front and got assurances of quick
delivery.
I did a quick calculation mentally. If Lenter did a 15% commission then
Clara just made over $450. Some outfits paid 20% and that would be $600
plus. Either way it would have been worthwhile coming to see us. I don’t
know if Bits was to get any of that, but being Clara’s room mate, should
benefit her some. Still I was looking for a way to give her some money.
I just wanted to share things with her. I was willing to buy her if I
could.
I pulled out the bag that Malone had left me. No time like the present
to start testing the drugs to see what they were. I fished out a cake of
tan substance. “Look everybody... Camel shit.” That was what we called
Hashish. I had seen some intriguing capsules and more balls and cakes in
there.
I called Sam over. He was our resident expert on many of the
pharmaceuticals and we had a big batch. He looked at the hash and
mumbled...
“Blonde Lebanese.”
“Yeah, thought so. What about this?” I poured out a bunch of the pills.
Sam’s fingers moved delicately and precisely sorting them into
categories and belying his usual clumsiness.
“These are downers- Seconal, Nembutal and so on. These are uppers-
Benzedrine, Dexedrine, oh yes... Some speed here. Now these are custom
loads. This is likely to be Organic THC... Tetrahydrocannabinol. Very
nice stuff. This could be psilocybin and this is what you had for the
concert... Hawaiian Baby Wood Rose seeds scorched to remove the Arsenic
and ground up. Best form of organic LSD there is. What else ya got in
there?”
“Later man. I’m expecting some paranoid company.”
Willie and Clara had been watching with interest. Bits was laying half
on the waterbed doing a Cleopatra imitation. Quite well too. Willie
leaned forward and took a couple of pills in his hand.
“Which ones did you take man,” I asked him. He showed me the Sodium
Seconal bright red capsules. “Watch the drinkin’ with that stuff. It can
get nasty on you.”
He was right. I let my Tiger mouth overload my pussy-cat ass and had
challenged a particularly big drunk at the bar. Oh I had gotten a few
licks in, but too little avail. A nose bleed and a cut eyebrow don’t
stop a man as drunk as he was. He had punched me around the parking lot
until Mr. Clean, our bouncer, got tired of seeing him hit me. He walked
up and short punched the guy to sleep. Bill Roscoe, another of our cop
buddies had hauled the guy off and then reported that the clumsy oaf had
fallen down the station’s steps several times. St. John’s Police Station
is one ground level floor. There are no steps. I sure have a lot of
friends.
Sam came back and stuck his head in the office to announce that Tony had
arrived. Tony shoved in past him. Sam reached for him, but Willie shook
his head. Sam shrugged and went back front to tend to the afternoon rush
of customers needing their party supplies.
I introduced Tony to the girls and he nodded, his eyes lingering a bit
too long on Bits. <“That’s gonna cost your ass,”> I thought. <“Good God.
I’m becoming jealous over her.”> I was a bit horrified, but it felt
natural too. Fuck it, I liked it.
The first few minutes were very dry as Tony gleefully went over numbers
that while fascinating to his bean counter’s soul, were meaningless to
us. He obviously mistook us for people who believed his crap.
Willie eyed him up and growled, “What in the fuck has that got to do
with us? We have some people telling us your station is selling out the
Underground. Some say your getting Johnny Rabbit from the bubble gum
station to do your prime time evening show. Any truth to that?”
Tony blanched. “How’d you find out about that. We’re just negotiating to
see if he would want to and doing a feasibility study to see if he would
carry an audience.”
“It’s real simple, man,” I drawled. “He won’t and we won’t advertise
with any asshole station that has him on. Not only that, but I think we
can persuade most of the Headshop Association to boycott such a station
too.” The Headshop Association was an organization of small businesses
that sell to the Hippies- the Underground economy. Yes, we had a lot to
do with it’s organization and Tony knew it.
If Tony had paled before, he was absolutely ashen now. “C’mon guys. You
don’t want to act in haste. It’s far from being a done deal.”
Willie said, “Tell you what Tony. Pull our ads for the head shop, the
stereo shop and the Thirteenth Hour. Until further notice... We’ll get
back to you after we do our ‘feasibility study’.” He turned to me, “Call
KADI and tell them to double our ads until we can get some new ones
worked out. We’ll put all our eggs there and even put it in our
newspaper ads why we’re doin’ it.”
Tony was visibly shaking, “Hey guys... C’mon. We’re friends here. Let’s
not act in haste. We can work it out...”
“You heard me motherfucker! That’s the way it is! Now get out and be
back here with something reasonable on Tuesday at 3:00. Understand?”
Sam caught Tony by the sleeve of his paisley shirt and pulled him out of
the office. We could hear him whining and crying all the way to the
front door. Sam closed it behind him, cutting off the stream of
verbiage. Seconds later he peeked in the office grinning. “I think that
dumb shit believed you guys.” We all did our Cheshire Cat grins.
Willie hopped up. “Wow it’s getting late. Just time for some dinner and
get to the bar. Got a new bartender breakin’ in tonight. You comin’ by?”
He was looking at me.
“ Yeah I think we will,” I answered. I looked at Bits, but she gave no
clue as to what she felt. “I think we’ll go get cleaned up and try to
find a place to eat that ain’t too crowded.” I held my hand out to Bits,
fully aware that I had not accomplished the tasks I had set for myself.
After all I had company...Bits!
We strolled back to the Pontiac, my arm around her shoulders and hers
around my waist. I opened the door for her. She reached up and tugged my
beard for a kiss. It was getting to be a most pleasurable habit. She was
waiting to snuggle up as soon as I settled into the drivers seat. She
sighed contentedly. The Moody Blues were into Nights in White Satin on
the stereo. Life was pretty OK.
My apartment was over in University City, a stones throw from Clayton.
It was an old brick building that the owner had lavished much attention
and money on to attract a lawyer tenant. Turned out the lawyers
preferred a Clayton or Webster Groves address a lot more. I came along
and fell in love with it’s wealth of rare wood paneling, crown moldings
and all the other wealth of bachelor accoutrements I seldom had time to
enjoy lately. The landlord’s widow lived next door. He had only lived a
short while after I moved in and other than the rents and Social
Security check, she was incomeless.
Fortunately for me she had
adopted me and Mr. Cat, my brindle stray that came to stay. He had been
neutered and declawed and wasn’t too wise to the streets when he had
shown up at my door. Mrs. Goldman had thought he was my cat and brought
him in. Bedraggled and hungry, between Mrs. Goldman and me he had
thrived. Mrs. Goldman kept watch on both of us. I had a maid service
that came in on Wednesdays and cleaned the joint. She would haul the
laundry down to the stoop where a laundry service would pick it up and
deliver it back to Mrs. Goldman. I actually saved money doing it this
way. If I wasted time doing all that for myself I would lose several
times what it cost to have it done. Groceries were easy. Mrs. Goldman
ordered by phone for both of us to be delivered. She kept me stocked
with standard stuff and I paid our bills once a month. Every now and
then she would leave a “special treat” in my refrigerator. She kept what
little mail I got there picked up and stacked on my desk in the opulent
study/library.
Mrs. Goldman saw the Pontiac pull into the garage and scurried over. I
hadn’t been home and that worried her a lot. I introduced her to Bits.
They looked at each other for a moment and then Mrs. Goldman opened her
arms and enveloped Bits in a Jewish motherly greeting. They preceded me
into the upper level of the apartment. Bits gasped when she saw the
living room with all it’s Mahogany and leather reeking of testosterone.
Mrs. Goldman was explaining how her poor Irving had worked
himself to death on the place and how some ingrates were
taking advantage of a poor old widow. I sighed because I was
doomed with all the female majority bristling at me.
Mr. Cat decided to see what was going on and strolled in to see who had
disturbed his nap. Bits squealed and was on him before I could explain
how reserved and dignified he was... There he was rolling and tumbling
like a kitten under her hands. Mrs. Goldman looked at me with this
strange victorious expression and solemnly nodded her head. I took it
for granted that Mr. Cat agreed as he flipped and zipped around the room
at Bits direction.
After a while- it seemed like hours, Mr. Cat fell asleep in Bits’ lap.
Mrs Goldman “remembered” something in the oven she had to check. Bits
did her yawn and stretch thing as Mrs. Goldman was leaving. The old lady
turned to me with a silent whistle of amazement and gave me a “thumbs
up”.
Bits crawled from under Mr. Cat, came to where I sat and grabbed my hand
to pull me up. I rose and she grabbed my beard to pull me in for a
deserved kiss.
“I really like Mrs. Goldman and Mr. Cat,” she said snuggling into my
arms.
She giggled and tugged my hand to get the quarter tour. She ooo’d and
aww’d at the kitchen with it’s sedate modernness. The Bedroom was
impressive with it’s giant waterbed, imposing in it’s center. She dashed
into the bath. I guess I’m just too slow. She squealed as she saw the
Japanese soaking tub and the doorless walk-in shower. The shower was
responsible for me making many a miraculous recovery from a hangover.
The hot water would come from overhead and three walls deluging the
person in the middle. There was a stool for those days when standing was
impossible.
Bits came racing out. “Can we take a shower... together? Both of us-
please, please, please.”
“Yeah, if you’ll wait until I get your bag.” I growled pretending to be
aggravated at the effort. I might as well have saved my acting- She
didn’t notice having just discovered my walk-in closet.
I heard her mutter, “This is as big as my bedroom.” I wanted, for a
moment, to tell her to move in and I wouldn’t feel so guilty about
having so much.
When I got back she had wandered again and was rummaging in the
refrigerator, gnawing on a stalk of celery. I sat at the table where I
took most of my meals. She zoomed over to perch on my lap and see if my
lips still tasted the same.
“When are we going to the bar?”
“Lets see,” I peered at the kitchen clock. “It’s only 4:30 and nothing
happens until 8:00 or 10:00. Let me call and see if I can get us in a
little place near where I used to live on Dago Hill.” I picked up the
phone and dialed a number I well remembered. I ate at this little
restaurant a couple of times a month at least. To my relief they made
reservations for us at 7:00.
“Ooo, lets get our shower while we wait,” she danced off, shedding what
little clothing she had as she went. I followed at a more dignified
pace. I passed Mr. Cat all frizzed and freaked out by Bits ripping by
him. People didn’t run in his world.
We played in that shower for over a half hour. Drying each other led to
making love tenderly, which led to another shower. What had I done to
deserve all this?
Bits shoo’d me out after I had slid on some fresh bell bottoms and
gathered up a tennis shirt. Lighting a cigarette, I started making sense
out of the pile of mail on my desk. It was mostly Bills, but there
weren’t that many. I put them in a pile to be paid. The rest was mostly
advertising. There was a letter from an old friend from the Army. He had
decided to make a career out of it. I chuckled. If he could see me now
he’d crap. I reached over and flipped the reel to reel tape stereo on.
The music boomed out in the bedroom and I heard a squeak of fright from
Bits followed by language that would make a sailor blush.
|
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Her dress was going to get a lot of attention. Of that there was no
doubt. She was so perfectly formed she made anything look good. I felt
out of place in my usual tennis/golf shirt and bellbottoms. Granted I
was comfortable, but you could look at Bits and see she looked great and
was comfortable too. It
reminded me of an old joke about the girl who liked to wear tight
dresses. Tighter than her skin. She could sit down in her skin, but she
wouldn’t dare in her dress. I told you it was an old joke. Bits was
comfortable even in just her skin.
Bits sat and watched the scenery of the city as we drove the short
distance to the restaurant where I had made reservations- “Mama Rosa’s”.
Jethro Tull was electrifying <Locomotive Breath>. Ian Anderson’s
flute work was impressive and mood elevating. Like me, Bits seemed
entranced by the exotic tunes. Looking at her I felt a bit intoxicated.
She was so beautiful it made my chest ache.
Mama Rosa’s Restaurant was in a building that looked like it was just a
part of the houses on the block. No sign was presented outside or needed
to identify it. Only people who knew or were known were expected to find
it. Needless to say most of the clientele was from the area or friends
that knew the place from personal recommendation. Very insider oriented
with good reason. The food would have generated “word-of-mouth”
promotion that could have covered Mama Rosa’s up with eager diners every
night without fail. However everyone who went there was most protective
and made very sure of who they took. It was a secret place that only was
shared with the worthy. I had no qualms about Bits at all. They were
going to Love her... <damn there goes the “L” word again>.
“Dago Hill” is not a real hill per se. The ground might roll a little,
but it is an Italian neighborhood for sure. The houses and buildings are
a part of the older districts of the city and not the affluent areas
either. This was an area where hard working immigrants could afford to
settle and recreate an atmosphere not unlike “the old country”. Little
herb gardens dotted the side yards. Grape vines and olive trees had been
nurtured just because it was that way back “home”. Folk sat on their
porches to wave greetings to each other in passing. Most of all it was
neat and clean. All of it. It looked like a piece of Italy here in St.
Louis. It truly was a piece of Italy to those who lived in the
neighborhood...
I had lived up the street from “the Hill” for a couple of months, a few
years ago after my first marriage broke up. One day I saw a middle aged
woman struggling to carry too many heavy bags of groceries and, having
nothing else to do right then, took some time to run up and offer to
help her with the load. She had been reluctant to allow me to help at
first, but finally gave in. It was the best three blocks of assistance I
ever invested. The woman was Mama Rosa herself. She thanked me as I
followed her to the back door of what I thought was her house. Her
daughter, one of them, helped her take the bags inside the screen door.
I didn’t think anything of it other than it seemed to be a very busy
back porch.
I saw her headed up to the grocery again the next day and volunteered to
go along and carry her bags again. Once more she was reluctant, but
yielded when I explained I was new to the area and had few friends and a
lot of time to kill. I worked the second shift at the Chevrolet Assembly
Plant and had my days fairly blank. I needed something to fill my
mornings and that helping a beautiful Italian lady would be my pleasure.
She actually blushed as she laughed and did that little primping thing
with her hair that women do when complimented.
I did wonder why she bought so much stuff every day, but figured she
must just have a real big family or borders or something. I was polite,
minded my own business and did not ask. I did notice she was buying a
bit more and the bags were heavier this day. She took her own shopping
bags made from cloth in the European manner. Some of them were fabric
from flour sacks made in Italy. They were colorful as well as being
strong. I did notice she was bringing more bags than she could possibly
carry. Had she planned on my help? I didn’t care, I was happy to be
useful right then.
After a week of helping her and hearing tales of how she and her entire
family had come from Italy in her broken, but enchanting English, she
told me, “You comea supper on a Saturday OK?” I didn’t have much going,
Hell I had nothing going any day, so I agreed. A good home-cooked meal
would be a real break from bachelor fare. I am a good cook if I say so
myself, but I was tired of fixing my own food. She looked to be a good
cook, besides the smells at her house were most intriguing. My cooking
tended to lack a lot of the spices I could smell. I was anticipating the
meal already and was eagerly counting the time. I would be drooling
until then in anticipation.
I carefully dressed in a suit and tie because I was unsure of what else
to wear. I knocked at the back door on the appointed day and was greeted
by a really pretty girl with long black hair I hadn’t seen before. A bit
zaftig for my taste, but quite lovely. She was the youngest daughter and
had been set to watch for me. She led me through the busy kitchens to
the dining rooms, which were several of the remaining rooms on the first
floor. My mind was blown and I finally realized this WAS a restaurant
and a home. One room in the front was the waiting/reception room.
Another held games of darts and cards along with wine or coffee from a
large urn. There the men played dominos and smoked cigars while they
solved the World’s problems in Italian fashion. The rest of the first
floor was used for general dining and it was very full indeed. I never
saw it empty any time I went there.
I had the very best meal of my life. Rosa scolded me for being a picky
eater and giving her food a bad name because I wouldn’t eat any more. I
couldn’t!!! She made me take a “doggy bag” with a half a loaf of crusty
Italian bread. She made sure I knew how to brown it on the stove and add
some olive oil and herbs for more flavor. She hugged me and kissed my
cheeks to show me I was welcome. All the old men in hats around the
dining rooms shook my hand and mumbled something in Italian. I found out
that this was like an adoption ceremony. I was accepted in the
neighborhood. I would never need to be hungry again in my life.
Mama Rosa was waiting out front and beaming when Bits and I arrived. She
hugged me after I parked the Pontiac and led the way in the restaurant
door holding Bits’ tiny hand. When she had first seen Bits, she had come
unglued. Bits was the first and only girl I had ever taken to Rosa’s.
She hugged Bits, kissed her cheek and then pinched it and told her that,
“Not to worry, Rosa put some weight on your skinny bones.”
Bits looked at me in distress and I winked at her to let her know
not to take it seriously. I hoped that Mama Rosa didn’t mean it, as I
liked Bits’ shape the way it was. Still Mama Rosa was an attractive
woman. I shook my head. I couldn’t imagine Bits that big. Maybe if she
was preg... STOP IT!
The dining room looked the same as it always had, a little bit of heaven
touched by magic. Candles dripping down empty Chianti bottles provided
the subdued lighting. The menu was on a chalk board on one wall, but you
needed to read Italian to understand it. The pristine ironed and
starched tablecloths were glowing whitely. Hand-painted chairs with
cushions that Mama Rosa and her girls had stitched provided comfortable
seating. Travel posters from Italy decorated the wall. A collection of
glassware gleamed on an old farmer’s table to one side. Bottles of good
Italian wine were lined up in waiting on shelves and window sills. Many
of the tables were occupied by old men wearing their hats and enjoying
the food, drink and ambience. A few other than Italian people were
present, so I didn’t feel too out of place. It was perfect and my elf
was caught in its Italian magic spell.
Bits beamed and laughed. I noticed every man in the place turned and
looked when they heard her enchanting laugh tinkle. We all liked what we
saw. As we were led to the table Rosa whispered for only me to hear,
“She is lovely. She will be your wife, no?”
I said “No” in a not too convincing manner and Mama Rosa pinched my butt
and asked “Why not? She is a lovely girl and I can see she loves you.”
Bits might be blushing, but I was flaming. I was aghast at first and
then thoughtful as her words soaked in past the armor plating on my
skull.
I had been avoiding the thought and now it was in the open. Bits was
happy and enjoying the fuss and feast. I was a bit reserved, as I
thought on what Mama Rosa had said and what I seemed to be forced to
think about. Looking at Bits made it hard to think. There was the L-
word popping up in my mind again. I hadn’t been all that lucky with it
so far. Did she feel the same? It’s a long way from a great bed partner
to loving wife. Did I need a wife? Oh man the questions were getting me
in deeper all the time. I needed to find out if she even liked me all
that much. I tried to throw myself into the spirit of things. I did OK,
but my heart wasn’t fully in it. I was afraid of where it was. My head
was confused like I was on acid, but I didn’t have that excuse... yet!
We started with a salad that would have been a meal by itself. Rosa had
to grate some cheese on it for us. Ordinarily Italian Dressing isn’t my
thing, but the way Mama did it I could eat it all day. We hadn’t stopped
for lunch, so we were both hungry. I whispered to Bits to beware “’cause
there was a lot more to come. She grinned back and whispered she would
bust before she would insult Mama Rosa’s cooking. I held her hand and
grinned a lot.
“We’ll just have to work it off later,” Bits whispered conspiratorially.
She squeezed high up on my thigh and brushed her hand lovingly over my
rising lump. She leaned up to kiss my cheek affectionately. The men
behind her sighed. I don’t know if it was jealousy that this gorgeous
elf was showing me affection or the view they had of her backside in
that tight rib knit dress. Probably all of the above. Plus some healthy
imaginations, but they had no idea of what was under that thin cloth and
I did... Nyah, nyah.
Mama Rosa came out of the kitchen her arms laden with crockery, bowls,
plates and other things. “All right you two...Quit necking in the dining
room. Save that for when you geta home and you don’t haves to stop. Now
is for a eating.”
She spread the dishware out in front of us and urged us to dive in. She
fussed with the pepper, the cheese, the wine and sent for fresh napkins.
She was nervous and trying to make an impression. It came to me. She was
trying to make up to Bits like a prospective daughter-in-law. I almost
laughed. I did choke a bit. Another surrogate mother. Mrs. Goldman would
be jealous. I was in big trouble with the two of them working against
me. Or was it for me?
We had a great bowl full of spaghetti, another smaller one of sauce with
giant meatballs crowdedly swimming in it. Our plates had Mama Rosa’s
favorite, an Italian meatloaf and a slab of Lasagna made with several
cheeses and sliced Sicilian black olives. Several slices of coarse dark
Italian bread had been spread with soft goat cheese and were at hand for
the sadists that wished to hurt their bellies some more with asking for
expansive capacities denied to mere mortals. She had uncorked a bottle
of Chianti and its perfume was competing with the meats and pastas. Its
cold sweetness contrasted with the food excellently. There was enough
food here to feed the whole restaurant or this end of the county. We
mere mortals were overwhelmed.
Bits clapped her hands in childlike delight and impulsively leapt to her
feet to hug Mama Rosa and kiss her cheek. Mama was more than delighted.
She hugged my elf back and kissed her in return. She turned and pinched
my cheek and scolded me to “treat this angel right”. I mumbled something
back I hoped was witty, but was probably only half. I think I was going
into shock. It was unfair. I was being ganged up on and I didn’t even
care. Mama Rosa would have me picking out silver patterns next and it
sounded interesting.
I was frying brain cells with the speed that thoughts were hurtling
through my calcified brain. Bits came around the corner of the table to
pile some spaghetti on a plate provided for me and added sauce and a
meat ball, liberally rubbing her breasts against my arm and shoulder.
The men sighed even harder this time. I wanted to bite those nipples. I
hoped I wouldn’t need to go to the bathroom too soon as I couldn’t get
out from under the table. Bits grabbed my beard and pulled me around for
a kiss. Just the barest flicker of a tongue and I was throbbing for
real. She was a tease... and I loved it, every minute of it. The men
surrounding our table were groaning and sighing in a chorus now.
We ate and we ate and we ate. Mama Rosa came out and took all the food
left, which was a lot. “I pack this up in two boxes. One for you Mrs.
Goldman and the other for you to take home. I think you gonna need the
energy later.” She winked at Bits who nodded enthusiastically and
laughed. The men sighed on cue at her laugh.
Mama wasn’t through yet. She brought out a light desert ice for us in a
single bowl. She had only one spoon. “He such a big baby, you better
feed him,” she quipped. A quick cloud crossed Bits’ face, but Mama Rosa
wasn’t looking at her. She was pinching my cheek for the dozenth time. I
didn’t have time to puzzle over it either as I had a lap full of
curvaceous elf, wriggling into position on top of my now revived lower
anatomy. She was determined to feed me so, I yielded. At one point she
pulled my head to her breasts. The room’s sigh was very pronounced. Bits
seemed oblivious to it. She was just being Bits. I was used to it by
now. I liked it more and more.
As usual Mama Rosa wouldn’t let me pay for anything. She took the
opportunity to whisper to me, “She care for you a lot. She may not know
how much yet. Same as you. Do something about it.” She handed me the
boxes I knew were stuffed with food and would make an excellent meal or
two yet, if we could hold that much.
I was full and couldn’t think of eating for a long, long while.
We left and I had the knowledge that Bits had conquered another set of
people. She would be remembered here for a long time. I had no idea of
how much she had been accepted, but I found out later.
Despite it being a long meal, it was early- too early for the bar. I
drove through Forest Park and parked in a favorite spot for lovers,
above the lake on Art Hill, by the museum. The animals in the zoo were
making faint noises in the distance. Bits snuggled in and we kissed a
few times. Nothing too passionate. Just, “Hello, I’m here.” We smoked a
joint more for sharing than getting high... I already was. Bits felt so
natural in my arms. When we kissed her fingers would move as if she was
trying to pull me inside her or vice versa. She just couldn’t get close
enough. Neither could I.
“Way, I... I’m really getting to like being with you.” She looked at me
expectantly, her eyes glistening in the moonlight.
I drew in a breath, “I really
enjoy my time with you, Bits. Things are happening awfully quick. I am
feeling things I had thought I never would. Do you understand?”
“Yes, but let’s not talk about it yet.” She was beaming in that way she
had. Of course we had to share another kiss. It spoke volumes. I knew
then what it was I was feeling, but left it unnamed... but not unfelt.
I looked at her and I had to agree. Some things were best left unsaid as
long as we were both apprehensive - gun-shy. Besides it was a lovely
evening. We had a bar full of friends waiting and I had to swing by my
place with the remains of Mama Rosa’s feast. I dropped the top on the
car, (even though there was another top I would’ve liked to drop
instead) as it was a warm evening and the fresh air felt good.
Mrs. Goldman was still up which was not surprising. She made a fuss over
the food and said she was going to call and thank Mama Rosa herself. She
spanked me on the butt and pushed me out the door saying she would take
my share up to my place and put it away for me.
“You two just go have fun,” was her parting phrase. She waved out the
door at Bits who bounced on the seat and was up to the house door in a
flash to get a hug and a kiss from and to Mrs. Goldman. We walked back
to the car holding hands like teenagers. I felt like it was my first
prom and I was escorting the queen.
It took a good fifteen minutes to head out to the Rock Road and cruise
up it to the “Thirteenth Hour”, so named because the Blue Laws
controlling bars. The laws said one o’clock was closing. We all stopped
serving at one o’clock and most places would give the patrons until 1:30
to finish their drinks before moving them out and locking up. Then the
open restaurants had a run on breakfasts. It seemed to be a different
place every time and most of the crowd would wind up there laughing,
joking and still having a good time. The waitresses could count on huge
tips if they weren’t too crabby and got the food out hot.
We pulled up in the parking lot of the bar. Nobody had trespassed in my
space as of yet and then I saw why- Mr. Clean had his conspicuous butt
sitting on a chair never meant to hold his over 400+ pounds, right at
the head of the space. I angled the Pontiac in slowly and he moved to
allow me in. He graciously opened the passenger door and bowed Bits out.
A lot of leg flashed in the neon lights as she emerged princess-like
from the car. I didn’t have to ask- Willie had briefed him about her. As
I came around the car he gave me a “thumbs up”. Like everybody else, the
big man approved of Bits.
She latched onto my arm, her eyes bright with excitement. We could hear
the first band warming up as they got set to perform. They were a local
band looking for experience. We were letting them open the first set.
They had auditioned real hot. I hoped the regular band would be able to
hold their own. We had a dancin’ and drinkin’ crowd of regulars.
We had been lucky and only had
one band that wasn’t very good so far. They had tried to infect us with
1930’s swing music. Our people didn’t dance very much to it and the band
didn’t finish the set. No one was mad, but no other band was hired
without an audition in full dress first. We had quickly been established
as “The Place” for an up and coming group to work. Many a band came in
to tryout when we had an opening to be filled or wanted to vary the
types of bands and music. We found that Jazz was not real good for us.
They may be a bit too intellectual and not appealing to the two fisted
drinkers we entertained. On the other hand at Sir Robin’s Den, our other
bar, a jazz pianist was our
best draw. It was a different situation, as it was smaller and more
intimate. Willie liked to say this one was bigger and the customers got
more intimate- as the night went by.
The band launched into a recent hit by “Big Brother and the Holding
Company”. <Me an’ Bobby Magee> was being belted by their female
lead. She sounded remarkably like Janis Joplin. This group could be good
if they stuck together. That was the problem with a lot of bands- they
broke up right as the doors of opportunity were opening. We considered
ourselves lucky if the bands we contracted with were still together by
their turn to play. It was brutal. For them and us. But fun too.
Bits skipped ahead to see what was going on. Cee followed her. He so
huge and her so tiny. I heard her squeal and entered in time to see her
and Clara hugging. I goosed Willie, got goosed back and accepted an ice
cold split Bud. These little small bottles of Budweiser beer were a hit.
We got regular price for them and got more bottles per case. They stayed
cold until they were finished ‘cause it took less time to drink them. We
won no matter what. They were also not the weapons that the full size
bottles were. Nobody seemed to want to swing one of these “little guys”
at anybody. They just drank ‘em.
The band switched to a Rhythm and Blues hit. Something by Wilson Pickett
and the people started dancing. That was always a good thing to do. I
knew they had some Buddy Holly in their repertoire and sure enough, <Peggy
Sue> was the next piece. The crowd roared its approval. After that
they cemented their place in the bar by tuning up Steppenwolf’s, <Born
to be Wild>. Good shit!
They knew some slow pieces too and Bits danced with me on all of them.
Several other regular patrons asked to dance with her on fast numbers
and it was a pleasure to watch her enjoying herself. I schooled myself
to not be jealous and amazingly I think I wasn’t. She left no doubt as
to who she was with. Only one guy got out of place and Mr. Clean had him
by the scruff before I could even react. He apologized profusely and
decided he’d had enough to drink.
Instead of letting him leave and
be a danger on the road, the waitresses sat him at the far end of the
bar and fed him coffee until he was better. Had he not been capable, a
cab would have been called for him. We wanted our customers back again.
Seldom was a driver from here cited for drunk driving. We had a working
arrangement with the cops to help keep the too-drunk off the road. The
cab companies loved us. Some weekend evenings they could get 30 to 40
fares from us. They had made a temporary cab stand next to a phone booth
in the shopping center across the street so they’d be handy.
The second set started with our regular band. They were a dance band and
played a combination of fast and slow numbers. They were a professional
group and soon had our rowdy crowd eating out of the palm of their hand.
They were what a bar-band was supposed to be. Real professionals with a
smooth sound.
The rest of the evening went like most Saturdays were supposed to go,
which was good! Bits enjoyed herself immensely. Our local dance expert,
Freddie the Fish, chose her for many of his demonstrations of how to
dance. He made most guys feel inadequate on the dance floor and he was
in rare form. Bits flashed, turned, spun and enchanted her way into many
a fantasy that night. A lot of guys would dream of her, but she was with
me.
At last it was closing time. Poor Bits was worn out. She fell asleep in
the Pontiac on the way home. There was no going to Bob’s for breakfast
for that little girl. I couldn’t remember if she had drunk much at all.
She had whizzed by me, grabbed a sip of my beer, pulled me down for a
quick kiss and been gone. If a slow dance came up she would bounce over
in front of me expectantly. She was light in my arms and moved with me
as if we had danced together all our lives. She was on her tiptoes to
better fit me. She ended every dance by tugging my beard so I would lean
down and kiss her. It seemed the more she liked the song, the longer the
kiss. Somehow I didn’t mind. I didn’t mind at all.
I had to carry her in, she was
so out of it. I was glad she was so small as I am not Charles Atlas. I
carefully undressed her, which was my pleasure and put her in the
waterbed alone for now. I went in the living room and got a snifter of
Brandy. I enjoyed it with a joint of some Hawaiian weed. Both were
excellent. Mr. Cat decided he needed a few rubs and wound up on my lap.
After a bit the marijuana was making me sleepy so I sat Mr. Cat
on the floor and he followed me back to the bedroom.
Undressing, I crawled in beside Bits. We were both nude. She was a treat
to the eyes. I kissed her breasts goodnight with a promise to dine on
them in the morning. I kissed her lips softly. I knew now that I truly
cared for this child/woman. I was afraid to guess or examine how much.
It just wasn’t possible to care as much as this felt. I couldn’t picture
life without her around all the time. Oh well, in the words of Scarlet
O’Hara, “I’ll think about that tomorrow.” The last thing I felt was Bits
scooting up next to me so she could hold on to me. Mr. Cat was somewhere
on us as I could hear his purr. |
|
I woke up to the smell of coffee and bacon. I swung my feet on to the
floor and was trying to stretch the kinks out and figure who was doing
the cooking. A smiling face peeked around the corner and a small figure
came in carrying a tray with a carafe of coffee, sugar and creamer. She
set it on the bedside table and asked,
“How do you like it... your coffee that is?” Bits had on one of my
T-shirts and it made her look even smaller... not that I’m that big.
“Sugar only,” I croaked, trying to look brighter than I felt.
She handed me the cup not too full so I wouldn’t spill it. I tasted the
dark liquid, sipping so as to not get burnt. I was semi-successful.
“Good, you found the Kona blend.” I wondered how she had gotten it down
from the cabinet as I had to stretch and she was at least a foot
shorter. Maybe she “cuted” it down. One never knew. That her cuteness
got her a lot of places was not in doubt.
“It smelled the best.” She sat on the edge of the bed with her cup held
in both tiny hands. I hadn’t known that she drank coffee. I knew she
didn’t smoke cigarettes. I knew she was ticklish. I knew she loved
sex... and that’s about all. What more did I need to know? It wasn’t
like we were getting married was it? Or was it? Bachelor defensive
habits die hard.
“Do I have time for a shower?” I wanted to get some of the kinks out of
my back and neck and the shower with the soaking tub usually did the
trick.
“No, breakfast is almost ready now. If you wait, I’ll wash your back...
and...” She stood on tiptoe to whisper a naughty, but inspired
suggestion in my ear. I don’t know if it was anatomically possible, but
I was willing to find out. Since she had tugged my beard to get me down
to her level, she took advantage and kissed me... her tongue darting in
a tease that worked. When I made to grab for a better place, she skipped
out of reach laughing and danced ahead. I was left with no choice, but
to follow.
“How can I pass up such an offer? Lead the way...” I loved watching her
walk. There was such a rhythm to it and a curiosity to see what caused
all that motion. God she was cute! And beautiful and gorgeous and sexy
and I was going to be lucky to make it through breakfast without
ravaging her savagely.
She was an excellent cook and breakfast was a real treat. I love
cooking, but I love it more when someone does it for me. Bits had bacon
done crisp and well drained of excess grease. The eggs were over medium
the way I liked them. She had cut up potatoes and browned them into
little hash browns, Southern Style with some onions and green pepper
bits added for flavor. Toast lightly buttered and an orange marmalade
completed the fare. Another cup of Kona coffee finished the filling
morning meal. I noticed Bits watching me in apprehension. She was so
cute and fearful, I had to laugh. She hadn't eaten much, as she was
afraid I wouldn’t like it.
I had to allay her fears- “You’re a great cook. It was wonderful. I
loved it and I want you to quit worrying about pleasing me. As a matter
of fact if you don’t come over here and kiss me I’m going to be very
unhappy.”
She crept over to me as if I was just fibbing to keep from hurting her
feelings, Her eyes were downcast and worry etched her features. She
reluctantly kissed me, but was tentative for some reason I couldn’t
understand. I held her and murmured in her ear like you would to sooth a
wild or feral animal. She gradually relaxed. I returned her obscene
suggestion with one of my own. She was too passionate a woman to be down
for long.
“You really liked it? The toast wasn’t too burnt?” She tossed her hair,
her lovely long hair out of her eyes. Her eyes weren’t yet convinced,
just enchanting. I loved the brown color, the color of light chocolate.
“The toast wasn’t burnt at all. It was just right.” I knew she was
fishing for compliments and I didn’t mind giving them. There was some
insecurity that was bothering her. I wanted to quieten it forever. I
would have to find out what it was first.
“You’re not just saying that? It was really alright?” Her face was
hopeful. I was breaking through and she was starting to believe me.
I turned her to face me. Someone had really hurt this little elf at some
time. I knew I was on quicksand and had to handle it right. I didn’t
know if I could. I just knew I had to try. For both our sakes.
“Look in my eyes, Bits. Believe me, I liked your cooking. Everything was
the way I like it. I have never had anyone cook in my apartment for me
before and if I said something to hurt your feelings, I’m sorry.” I put
all the affection in my voice and manner I could. I prayed it would be
enough. “After all I’m supposed to be the host since I invited you
here.”
It worked. By me apologizing and pretending I had offended her she
reacted and soothed me. I love having my face cradled on soft breasts
barely clad. There was a mothering instinct in her that was just below
the surface. I liked taking advantage of it. We held each other for
quite a while. I held her out at arms length and looked in her eyes.
There was an emotion there that so far was best left unsaid by both of
us, but we knew it was coming. I almost opened my mouth to say it, but
she placed her finger tips on my lips to silence me. She was right, it
wasn’t yet the time.
I carried her to the bedroom and dropped that T-shirt on the floor. My
Levis followed. I held her for a long time as she trembled like a
trapped animal. I don’t know what demons had been awakened, but I was
determined to put them to rest. I held her fiercely and whispered in her
ear how beautiful she was and how I was coming to really care for her.
She finally stopped trembling and became passionate. My God! What had I
awakened? She was insatiable.
It took quite awhile to prove to her how I felt and for her to return
the feelings. I liked the proving and so did she, but if we kept it up,
we would be too sore for anymore demonstrations this day. By the time we
got another shower and got dressed it was almost noon. I like watching
her dry her wild mop of hair and brush it with quick sure motions. I
loved the way her naked breasts moved as she energetically prepared
herself for the day. She had seen me watching and stopped with her
blouse in her hand and came to me, pulling my head down for a quick
nuzzle and kissing of her nipples before she slid into the damn blouse
and hid them. I’d make her walk around nude if we were mar... Married!
There was that thought again. I shook myself and leapt to my feet. I was
in dangerous mental ground. Like the man said, “tap dancin’ on land
mines”.
“Time to go play Hippie,” I told her.
She looked puzzled, but got in the Pontiac and I backed it out of the
garage and headed into the city and Forest Park. It was a beautiful day,
but with Bits near me if there was a tornado roaring by us it would
still be a beautiful day.
Forest Park is a very large park in central St. Louis. That it has trees
is an understatement. The world famous St. Louis Zoo is there, a well
known botanical garden, The Jewel Box, a man-made lake and an art museum
with what is known locally as “Art Hill”, a terraced hill that in the
winter time is some of the best sledding after it snows. Now in the
summer it is where all the Underground people, the Hippies, meet on
Sundays. It is like a carnival, without rides. Incense fills the air.
Tambourines keep in time to neophyte belly-dancers that make up for a
lack of experience with enthusiasm. Portable radios vie for musical
attention of the listeners. Each one on its owner’s favorite station.
There is food, people with the latest Underground clothing fashions,
mimes, actors, dealers, stoners, craftsmen with their wares, the high,
electric Kool Aid and more weirdness all accompanied by music of all
sorts, picnics and for the most part free drugs. Hippies of every kind,
demonstrations, protesters, politicians from Underground parties and the
curious and curiosities. The Free Love could be found in the bushes and
where privacy could be found and sometimes right out in the open, but no
one cared. It was free and beautiful.
Bits fell into it and was off and running. She was singing and dancing
and twinkling like only she could. She made friends everywhere she went.
Everyone loved my little elf. I still couldn’t apply the “L” word to
what we had, but that may have been my failing. I knew what I was
feeling wasn’t platonic by a long stretch.
I ran into Willie and Clara along the way. They had Sam and Sherry with
them. Mr. Clean came wandering up with a girl that was as skinny as he
was heavy. He hugged me and my ribs protested. We were all a bit high.
No sooner was a joint lit than Bits came bouncing in for her share. It
was better than a dog whistle. I know one time for sure she was nearly
fifty yards off, yet made it in time to get her share.
Without exception she would tug my beard until I would lean down for a
well placed and lengthy kiss. I slid my tongue in at one point. She
leaned back from me and said, “What kind of girl do you think I am?
You’re right!” And was off frolicking with the Hippies again. It was a
most memorable afternoon and far too short. All too soon the sun was
going down and the people all left to go to their lives. I finally
corralled the flitting Bits as she was saying goodbye to literally
everyone. Willie had snoozed out and been drug away hours ago. Sam and
Sherry waved as he drove by in his Chevy van. Mr Clean and his thin girl
had disappeared. Bits was like a kid being led out of the Saturday
matinee, as she turned back for just one more look and wave. I wished I
could make the magic last longer. I wished it could last forever. It was
one of those memories not to be forgotten.
I was not feeling good. One of my headaches was kicking up. That was all
I needed. I was not sure how Bits was going to take it. I hurried back
to the apartment and barely made it in the door before the nausea hit.
If you can imagine that your head is splitting wide open to the extent
that you can’t see or even walk and then you start throwing up. I barfed
up food I had eaten a year ago. I Ralphed so hard and long that I was
throwing up blood. Bits stayed with me and cleaned me and the bathroom
up. I lay on the cold tile floor as it was the only place that was
comfortable. She had stripped off my clothes and the cold felt good.
I can’t just puke once or twice and be done with it. Once it starts I go
on for hours. I was too weak to move and my temperature was going up.
Poor Bits thought I was dying I guess. I couldn’t talk enough to tell
her different. She ran over to Mrs. Goldman’s and screeched for help.
Mrs. Goldman told Bits what was going on and that I would be alright
tomorrow. She gave Bits a hug and told her I had these spells about 3 or
4 times a year. Not to worry. It will soon be gone.
Bits drug me to the bed and got me into it somehow. She brought a basin
of cool water and bathed me to bring down the fever. She washed my
clothes and made me some herbal tea. I woke up and she was sitting in a
chair by my side of the bed, holding my hand and crooning a lullaby, the
dried tears showing on her face. If I had died and gone to heaven, there
could have been no more beautiful an angel waiting for me to awaken. I
felt a little better just seeing her there.
About midnight my fever broke and I got the chills. I was shaking so
badly my teeth were rattling. Bits crawled in bed and used the heat of
her body and her soothing ways to quiet me. By 2:00am I was back to
normal, but weak. I finally fell asleep with Bits holding me. My last
recollection was of her stroking my forehead with those tiny, soft,
loving hands.
I woke up slowly. I was weak and felt sluggish. Bits wasn’t with me. I
slid on a pair of shorts I keep handy in case of fire; wouldn’t do to
run out nude and shock the firemen. I was slithering into a tank top as
I went down towards the kitchen. I heard voices. I stopped outside the
doorway and listened. It was Bits and Mrs. Goldman.
“I... I don’t know what I’m going to do,” Bits voice quavered. She was
close to crying or had been. There was a desperation in her voice I had
not heard before.
“There, there dear. It’s a woman’s lot to be strong so the man will not
suspect we can’t handle it. You need to pull yourself together. You two
have plenty of time... Right now he wouldn’t admit he was warm if his
head was on fire. That’s the way of men.”
“I wish we truly did have all the time we needed. I saw him sick last
night and I got so scared... What if...what if he...he..Ohhh.”
Bits was crying over me! <Did that mean she... she...> I couldn’t
bring myself to think the “L” word. I quietly backed up the hall to the
bedroom. I banged the wall like I had bumped it and let out a good “Damnit”.
“Hello. Is there anybody about? Have I been deserted in my time of
need?”
“It’s about time you got out of bed. Honest people have a half a day in
already.”Mrs. Goldman sniffed in her <I’m going to be ornery persona>.
“And a good morning to you Mrs. Goldman,” I said as I leaned over and
kissed her cheek. I dodged as she swatted at me. Bits sat in one of the
chairs opposite. She had on a pair of jeans with big bells that hid her
tiny feet and a badly shrunken T-shirt of mine that she had knotted so
that her midriff was exposed and it was obvious she was braless. She had
dried her tears quickly and the moisture showed on one sleeve. I picked
the little feather up by her waist to show I was strong and kissed her
the way I felt. She purred in her throat and kissed back.
“Well, I can tell when I’m in the way.” Mrs. Goldman got up to leave. I
sat Bits down and motioned Mrs. Goldman back.
“I just got here and you two have been gossiping for hours. That’s
hardly fair. Have a cup of coffee at least.” I flopped on another chair
as Bits stood by me ruffling my hair: My arm encircling that impossibly
tiny waist.
“Well, it is good coffee.” Mrs. Goldman smiled and I could almost see
the halo form over her head, indicating her innocence.
We sat and small-talked for a while about nothing. It was like we were a
family. For awhile anyway. Mrs. Goldman pleaded errands that needed
doing and left. I think she was going to plug into the grapevine of her
neighborhood gossips. I knew we, Bits and I, had to be the main event. I
knew I had been in the past when I went to the grocery store and all
Mrs. Goldman’s cronies had been whispering to each other and giggling.
Giggling, at their ages. Let them have their fun.
I called the shop to see if there was a chance I could skip the rest of
the day. Willie said he didn’t care, but two of our favorite DJ’s...
Pardon me- On Air Personalities from KADI were coming by in the late
afternoon. It was rare that they had off at the same time and I had some
stuff to talk over with them. When we could get together and bullshit
with a couple of J’s, the quality of our “live” ads went way up. Since
we had suspended our other station temporarily, we had to get the word
out on this station. This was to be a meeting of the minds, or as Willie
called it, “mindless”.
Bits had been listening to the station and heard our ads. Now she was
fascinated at hearing and meeting the pair of them in the flesh. Besides
I wanted to show her off. I mentally toyed with the idea of using
television ads and having Bits as our spokes model. She would definitely
attract every male viewer, but did I want that many men drooling over my
lady. I chastised myself for the thought and the “my lady” business.
We stopped and got a giant bag of White Castles and greasy fries over on
Natural Bridge even though it was out of the way. Enough for everybody.
I ran in and got a couple of bottles of Boones Farm wine at the liquor
store up the street at the top of the hill. The guys liked a sip or two
to go with their grass ‘n food and so did I. Bits was curled on the seat
with a half eaten burger in her hand. It looked like a regular burger in
my hand; she was so small and delicate. I had to kiss her, onions and
all. She had changed into another tiny tank top that all but exposed her
and a pair of skintight short, short, shorts. She had a chambray work
shirt of mine thrown over her shoulders that had some Native American
type embroidery on it. It almost looked like that was all she had on. <No
inhibitions- that was my Bits!> (There I go again)...
The Bag o’ Burgers was a hit. Everybody had the Munchies which made me
want to check the stash. I did get it out to roll some significant
joints. I had learned to roll multi-paper joints from a Jamaican I had
met in Florida. His “spliffs” were works of art. I rolled a filter joint
that used a Zig-Zag cover rolled onto a tube as the filter and two large
papers to finish the “J”. That went so well I rolled three more. Then I
rolled one with a bead of Hashish in the tip. That would be popular. The
combination of flavors was almost as appealing as being stoned.
I had put the wine in the
freezer of the ‘fridge. I sent Bits to put them in the regular part
before they froze. She came back and since we had some time to kill, we
made out for awhile on the waterbed. I guess we were getting carried
away as we never heard Willie come in until he cleared his throat. I
pulled my hand out from under Bits’ tank top after giving a last squeeze
and tweak that made her squeal.
Willie said, “They’re here.”
I introduced Studz and Checkers, the DJ’s to Bits. They were impressed
by her I could tell. From the glances they gave Bits and Clara that
evening, I could tell that if Willie and I didn’t already have our claim
in- there would be a pair of Hippie DJ’s giving it a try. They did enjoy
the scenery though. Clara’s blouse was loose and she found a lot of
excuses to bend over, affording a view of her considerable charms. I
even looked once and they were nice... especially after we got stoned.
Bits must’ve seen me look. She scooted over next to me and pinched me.
Then she rubbed her left breast on my arm- which did not escape the
attention of Studz. His tongue was almost out of his mouth and he seemed
ready to salivate. I don’t blame him a bit. I already was.
We mostly talked about the new stuff we had in and the things we were
going to mark down for a “People’s Sale”. Of course we had to try out
some of the items. I showed them a new rolling paper we had just gotten
in... Cherniak. It was wine flavored, looked Batik dyed and burned with
a soft purple smoke. I had just started making traditional bamboo bongs
patterned after the one I got in ‘Nam. I was burning in traditional
dragons on the bamboo with a small soldering iron once used for
electronic work. We got a hundred for each of them as it took about 4 or
5 hours to do each bong.
The tradition of a bong is you put a small quantity of cold water in it
to bubble the smoke through. The bowl is a thimble with moderate sized
holes in the bottom of it. You put the amount of grass you can hold
between your thumb and little finger in the bowl and tamp it enough to
stay put. You puff gently to get it lit and then with one breath you
inhale it hard until you hear the fiery ash hit the water in the pipe.
This is done three times and you will have good luck. With grass as
potent as we had, it was almost suicide. Still it was a pleasant way to
go.
We partied until the two guests said they had to go. Poor Checkers had
to do the late evening shift. Studz had the horns up and swore the way
he felt he was going to damage his girl when he got home. They both
needed guidance to the car they had come in. Then they couldn’t remember
who had driven. It was a radio station car. Whoever had the keys got
behind the wheel.
They had parked in the movie theatre parking lot. To get back to the
street they had to go to the back of the lot and come around to the
front in order to get out on the Rock Road. I saw Willie whisper to
Clara and she looked at him a minute, then started to grin and nodded. I
knew this was going to be a joke of some kind... Willie and I are both
notorious that way. If we weren’t playing jokes on each other, then
somebody was going to be a victim. We delighted in the taking advantage
of the helplessly stoned.
As the two hapless DJ’s turned to drive to the street from the back of
the lot, Clara stepped into the light from the marquee and took off her
blouse. Clara had a terrific set of boobs, big, full and prominent
nipples that stood out hard in the evening breeze. She lifted them as if
offering them to the two open mouthed, bug-eyed, overly stoned, record
spinners. They bounced over the curb, almost hit a passing car and
stalled the engine in the street. Trying to get a better view one of
them hit the door handle and they both tumbled to the street.
By then Clara had her blouse back on. We were laughing so hard we
were crying. The pair looked for Bits to see if they would be doubly
lucky and were crestfallen when they saw she was still clothed, albeit
rather briefly.
Somehow they got back under way and soon disappeared down the street. I
had a feeling we would get some really good advertising on our spots
that night. I went back inside to tell Tony, the competitive radio
station’s salesman to be sure to listen. You learn in business to take
advantage of any promotional situations. I was going to enjoy the fact
that Tony would not like what he was going to hear. Tough beans! |
|
We left it to Sam to close up the shop. He always did it right and on
time. He had remarked to me at one time that he couldn’t believe we paid
him to work there. He said he would have done it for nothing. I told
him, “Now you tell me.” We both laughed. I knew what he meant and I
think I felt the same. Willie said it wasn’t really work. We made money
doing what we would do anyway. I agreed. So far it was proving to be a
fairly wonderful world we had all created.
Bits and I walked to the Pontiac. It was in the back parking lot. There
was a note on the seat. It was from Malone, our police buddy. He had a
new bag of goodies from the County Vice. They needed ID on several items
right away. His note said he had left the bag in my trunk...<In my
trunk>? How did he... Yeah! He was a cop. I should have known he could
access anything that was locked if he wanted. I was glad we were on the
same side and hoped we would stay that way. I wondered how he liked the
Hawaiian weed. I thought it was the best... I had not been stingy on the
ounce I had sold him. He should find his shifts going by pleasantly.
As I was getting in, I asked Bits if she was hungry. She replied she was
ready for whatever I wanted to do and ran her hand up the inside of my
leg not suggestively-blatantly stating what she could start with. While
I couldn’t ignore my reaction, I was happy that my Levis were strong and
that I had replaced the steering wheel with a smaller diameter one. I
needed the power steering to maneuver the big car.
I had thought that Avilla’s would be a good place to dine. Bobbie was a
friend and had the best Mexican food in the city as far as I was
concerned. After being sick I tend to over compensate and gorge. Bobbie
Avilla’s authentic Mexican food was just the place. He had it gringo
style or “make your eyelids sweat” hot if you dared. It may be that my
addiction to Mexican food is why I would one day find that I had ulcers.
For now I just knew I loved the food and that several times a week
wasn’t enough. Bits was in for a treat and it was only a short distance
away in the edge of Overland.
I drove quickly and soon was pulling in to the gravel parking lot. His
leaning sign proclaimed “Avilla’s Family Dining- Authentic Mexican
Food”. Bits squealed and clapped her hands in delight. I breathed a deep
sigh as she had relinquished her hold on a part of my anatomy I had to
carefully rearrange from where she had left it in order to walk around
the car and open her door. She bounced out the door like a perverse
Super Ball and was inside in an instant. I followed with what dignity I
could manage with a part of my person still partly erect. She often did
that to me.
It was dimly lit even in the afternoon and we blinked after the
brightness outside. There were tables scattered around with checkered
cloths on them. A street scene from Bobbie’s home town had been executed
by a cousin artist in faithful and bright colors. It was of the house
where Bobbie’s parents had started their restaurant before they came
north. It was a cheerful place with dirt streets and flowers in pots at
the doors. Large trees shaded the sides of the buildings. That mural
always made me want to go for a visit. I had seen Bobbie sigh and wipe
at his eyes after the fourth or fifth
cerveza. He had only visited
there a few times, yet it had become a home to him.
The floor of the restaurant was a heavy tile, impeccably clean. Shades
on the windows had cafe curtains over them to lessen the heaviness of
the decor. In the back was a pass-through where the heavily laden trays
of fragrant spicy food were passed from the kitchen to the dining room.
A small bar was over to the left. A single old man was nursing a beer
while staring at a silent TV set with only the picture on its black and
white screen. He wouldn’t have understood the sounds had the volume been
turned up.
I was disappointed. Bobbie was out on some errands, but would soon be
back. His kid sister, Maria, was waiting tables and she informed us of
Bobbie’s whereabouts. She was a pretty, little shy girl that I suspected
might have a crush on me from the way she watched me. I loved teasing
her, but from the way she was stretching her low-cut peasant blouses
these days, I would soon have to watch my step. His mom was manning the
kitchen which was better as she was the one that taught Bobbie all of
his cooking skills. Her English was not as good as the rest of the
family’s, but her heart was as big as all Mexico. She saw me and came
out to greet me. (I love being recognized) She saw Bits and beamed. Her
entire face lit up.
“Eet is time you bring in your senorita- or is she your
señora?” What is it
with older women? They can’t seem to stand a single man... or at least
me being single. I introduced Bits and Senora Avilla took charge,
pulling her over to where the favorite booth was and shooing me to the
opposite side when I tried to slide in next to her.“You come to eat not
fool around. Do that later when the belly she is full.” Another older
woman that wanted us fed so we could fool around later. Were all women
in this conspiracy together?
Little Maria put menus in front of us and Carlotta took them away with a
flourish, clucking her tongue at little Maria.
“Tonight I choose for you. You will like it I swear.” Carlotta was
dramatic if not gifted with English. I relaxed. I knew her cooking and
the choices would be impeccable. I wished I had my looser Levis on.
Between the food and what Bits had been doing to me, something had to
give and I thought the denim might be stronger than flesh. At least the
top button would have to give way.
Maria started us with a Margarita each, big enough to swim in. The rim
crusted with coarse salt that Bobbie had shipped from Acapulco, he
claimed, because it was the best for Margaritas. I knew he had his
relatives that came for visits, stuff liquor in their luggage until they
sloshed and were in danger of being too heavy. He said it was the best
way to get the better booze out of Mexico because the very best wasn’t
allowed past normal shipping customs. I told him “No moonshine is
allowed past the border.” He didn’t say anything, but looked puzzled.
The next time I came in he threw a dirty dish towel at me in pretended
anger.
“I find out what moonshine is you dirty gringo. You cannot talk that way
about my good booze.” Followed by some unintelligible (to me) Spanish.
Like I said, we are good friends. I feel free to insult him and he does
me as well.
Maria came out with a plate of Taquitos. They were perfect and the sauce
was just sassy enough to be entertaining. Bits was experiencing Mexican
dining for the first time I could tell. The homey, but alien scents and
flavors were an earthy treat. She reached across the table and squeezed
my hand. Her eyes were moist.
“Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve never had food like this before.
It’s so good.” She was a bit teary eyed. I like good eats and this place
was way up on my list of good places, but I can’t recall ever crying
about it. Women! I’ll never understand them... Still a good steak can
stir the passions.
We had just started on the enchiladas, rice and refried beans when a
voice roared from the back...
“Is there a goddamned gringo hippie out here? Who left the door open and
allowed such scum to befoul my place of business?!”
“Is that that whining, border jumping, wetback complaining about this
place the Health board should have closed? Tell me is there a cockroach
stampede about to happen?”
I leapt to my feet in time to be encircled by a bear of a Mexican with
an enormous moustache, sideburns and all. We were both laughing and
pounding each other on the back. Ribs can only take so much. I
surrendered barely in time.
“Mi Amigo! Where have you been? I thought you would be back last month,
I...I... Aye yi yi yi... Forgive me senorita. I have not seen my friend
Way for a long time. I did not mean to interrupt your meal. I will leave
you in peace. Please forgive me.”
“Bobbie- This is Bits. She... she’s...
she’s my...My...Uh”
“Pleased to meet you Bobbie. I’m his... you fill in the blank! He just
has a hard time talking, but you knew that didn’t you?”
Bits and Bobbie roared. Since they were looking at me I was given to
believe it had to do with me somehow. Probably it was the thoughtful,
intelligent expression on my face and the slack jaw. Bits seems to have
that effect on me.
Carlotta came out of the kitchen, spotted Bobbie and started chattering
at him in Spanish. From his reaction and without a translation it was
obvious he was being reminded of some flaw in his behavior. I almost
felt sorry for him... Almost! He slunk away to tend to some chore he had
been reminded of. There could be no doubt that Carlotta ran the family.
“I really like your friend and his family. I wish I had friends like you
do...” She was wistful and sad as we looked at the remnants of our great
meal. I was as full as I have ever been, yet I knew if we stayed much
longer there would be more delicacies brought from the kitchen.
“Bits, they are your friends now. Don’t you realize all my friends are
in love with you? Not because you are with me, but because you are you
and they like that. They feel about you the way I do.”
“Way, if they all love me like you say, what about you... Do you care
about me that way? I know you like to make love to me, but I really
don’t know if you even like me? I really want to know.”
“Bits, how I feel about you is really getting complicated. I am honestly
trying to figure it out. If I tell you I want you in my life would you
let me think some more? I do want you to be a part of my future. I’m not
all that sure that you’d want to be. You haven’t said anything along
that line. I know I want to make love with you every time I am capable.
I also remember that you don’t really know that much about me. I do want
to be open and honest. I have had a few relationships with other women,
but this one with you is different. I... I’m a little confused right
now...OK?”
‘OK, but do you love me...?”
Bobbie came out from the back and flopped down on a chair at the end of
the booth, holding an imported beer he had obviously been sipping on.
Bits wanted her answer and I would have to... I wanted to because the
answer had become apparent to me.
‘I have a package for you from my cousin. He says it is a very fine
quality and sends you his regards. Your car was open, so I put it in
behind your front seat. I told him you would get word to me in what... a
week?”
I slipped a couple of bills under the plate, grabbed Bits hand and waved
to Maria and Carlotta. They yelled something back in Spanish. I really
have to learn how to speak it someday. Bits was waving and calling out
goodbyes too. We drove back to the apartment. I knew I was being moody,
but this was our last night together. She and Clara would be leaving
tomorrow. I felt an edge of panic and that was freaking me way out. I
was edging into total panic.
Mrs. Goldman wasn’t home. This must be her bridge night or something.
Her friends would come by and pick her up and they would go play cards,
gossip and sip spiked tea for hours. I knew who, but not where they had
their soirees.
As we went in, Bits spotted a door she had not seen before. It led to
the enclosed courtyard. A high fence shielded it from view by the
neighbors. It was floored by bricks laid in a herring bone pattern. A
nice maple tree was centered in a special well in the center. Around the
sides bushes and flowers softened the rugged fence. A locked gate in
back led to the alley. I had installed a set of speakers so I could
barbeque or just enjoy the sun. I hadn’t had a party there yet, but it
was a good setup. I flipped on the speakers. It was tuned to KADI and
Checkers was doing his thing on the air. He talked about the Head Shop
and then he talked about this “Angel” that one of the owners (Me) had.
He almost did a dedication to her. He said the next song by Frank Zappa
and the Mothers of Invention reminded him of the “Angel”. Bits was big
eyed listening. She pointed at herself and mouthed “Me?” silently. I
nodded an affirmative. The song came on. It was the best thing I ever
heard Zappa do- <The Ritual Dance of the Young Pumpkin>, a wild skirling
piece that went on for a long time. Bits was shedding her clothes as she
danced to it. She may not have been trained as a dancer, but she
expressed the music better than most professionals I have seen. A blur
of motion she whirled and swayed to the music. It was the most free,
spontaneous thing I have ever seen- and it was just for me. She made me
want to cry with her feelings being expressed this way. I knew she cared
for me and now she was saying it in dance... her dance for me.
Too soon it was over. Bits ran the few steps to me and collapsed crying
in my arms, tears streaming from her eyes. Her emotions had overcome her
too. I wanted to say something, but could find no words to fit what I
felt. What can you say when you are given a gift like that. I scooped
her up and carried her back in the house. She wriggled out of my grasp
and led me to the bedroom. She started taking my clothes off.
I was so erect it hurt with need. She held my cock in her tiny hand with
a firm pressure, stroking me to even greater intensity. She was
trembling with her need. We tumbled to the bed. I kissed every part of
her I could get to until she was moaning from her arousal. Then I fucked
her and she fucked me in turn. It was primal need for each other. It was
over quickly. I pulled out of her leaving a trail of sticky fluids
across her thighs. She rubbed it in her skin and raised her fingers to
lick them clean.. I lay back and watched this display of natural
sexuality. I have said before that she was uninhibited, but until now I
had no real idea of just how much.
She gathered my cock in her hand and began to massage in and lick the
fluids off me there. I couldn’t help but get hard again. She held my
penis and was crooning and talking to it. The descriptions of what she
wanted to do with my cock were going to cause another eruption if she
didn’t watch it. She cradled my balls in her other hand as if to weigh
them.
She slid up me until she was straddling my thighs. I grabbed her by the
waist and lifted her so I could kiss her most intimate parts. As my
tongue tasted her and parted her slit, I felt her hand reach back to
caress me too. She arched into me gasping and wailing with her need. I
licked harder, fascinated by the taste of her and wanting to make her
feel as I did. Her back arched in her release and she screamed my name.
She collapsed back down and slid down my body to lay her head on my
chest and pant for a minute.
She raised up after she had rested for a minute, her eyes glazed from
sex. She rocked from side to side dragging her nipples through the hair
on my chest. She braced herself on one hand while she reached back and
grasped my cock in her hand. She stroked it to be sure it was erect and
ready for her- it was. She rose up from where she straddled and impaled
herself on my penis. She slid down until I was fully inside her. She
commenced to move in that oldest of rhythms, up and down... rising until
I was almost at the entrance and then surging down as if to drive me
deeper with each stroke. I reached up and grabbed her breasts which had
become super-sensitive and squeezed them- pulling her nipples out even
longer. She was vocalizing her passion at the top of her lungs. I was
glad for the extra sound-proofing old Irving had installed in the
apartment.
Bit’s had fallen into a rhythm that used the waves in the waterbed to
drive me even deeper - far more than I had ever done to any woman. I
felt gigantic, but wished I was even bigger to reach to the very center
of her. I couldn’t remain passive any more. I rolled over, carrying her
with me and with me on top; I drove into her for all I was worth. My
yell of triumph was equal to hers as I shot my sperm deep in her. It
didn’t last long, but it seemed to come from all over me. She sounded
like she was almost strangling as her spasms contracted on my cock,
generating even more ejaculations from me. This was the “Big One” to end
all “Big Ones”.
I collapsed on her and quickly rolled off so I wouldn’t crush the little
elf. She was still moaning and climaxing as we lay there, her fingers
pulling at me to hold her which I wanted to do. She rose on an elbow an,
unable to speak- pointed between her legs where a flood of our juices
poured from her. We stared, I in enthrallment and her in contentment, at
the result of our love making. She leaned over and kissed my penis.
“Thank you,” was all she said, but it spoke volumes. I didn’t trust
myself to speak. I just lay there panting and grinning. I closed my eyes
and visualized Bits dancing for me again.I felt my cock lurch at the
wanton image of Bits’ breasts jiggling as she spun and leapt for me.
Bits noticed the renewed interest and reached for her favorite hold on
me. We fell into an exhausted sleep that way.
I woke up and it was still dark out. Something was bothering me. I lay
with my elf’s head cradled
on my shoulder for a while. The sweat and juices from our love making
had dried on both of us. I really didn’t want a shower yet. I needed to
think with no stimulus at all. I eased out of bed and she stayed asleep.
I had never seen a woman so beautiful in my life or even fantasy.
I got a cigarette, lit it and exhaled a great stream of smoke. I was
restless, so I walked to the den and got a drink of some kind of booze-
I have no idea what. I threw it back and gasped. It had been Jack
Daniels. The shock of it crystallized my thoughts and I knew how I truly
felt.
I went back into the bedroom and Bits was stretching. It made me half
hard again just watching her. She looked at me in puzzlement. I walked
to the bed, cupped her face in my hands and kissed her with all I was
feeling. Her eyes grew wide as she stared at me. We both sensed what was
coming...
“Bits... Bits, I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you!”
She burst out laughing and crying at the same time “I love you too!”
I guess we were both crying and laughing. I had never felt such a weight
lift from my soul before. I don’t know if I could have been any happier.
Bits couldn’t speak. She just made little whimpering sounds in her
throat. She pulled me back in bed and kissed me with so much feeling it
made my chest ache with longing for her.
“I love you! I love you! I love you! I love you! Oh God I love you!” She
had found her voice and each pronouncement filled me to bursting. I
could not have been happier. Her hands were touching me everywhere as if
she had suddenly been given permission. She rolled us over with her
under me and somehow she slid my awakened cock into her.
“Yes, yes, yes, YES!!!” She was orgasming again already. I quit holding
back and muffled my moan in her wild mane of hair as I shot into her
again. She gurgled in the back of her throat and held me closer.
I knew it wasn’t the sex. I knew it wasn’t that she was beautiful. It
was what made her. Her mind, her femininity, uninhibitedness, just her I
loved. I couldn’t define it. She was all I had ever wanted or dreamed of
my entire life. I had loved her before I even met her. WOW! This was
some very heavy thoughts. But I had no doubts, I did love her. I hoped
she loved me as much, but whatever it was I would take it. I wanted her
happy. Whatever it cost me. It didn’t matter. I loved her! And I was
beginning to realize she loved me. It was like Mama Rosa had said...
exactly. Why had I waited? I vowed to waste no more time. A bucket of
cold realization hit me. She and Clara were leaving in the morning... in
just a few hours. How could I let her go?
We had tonight and I was determined to make the most of it. I held her
as our passions ebbed and flowed. Physically I could make love with her
for a long time yet and she would have orgasms to end all orgasms. I
wanted to fill her with my seed, to claim her as my own sweet love and
have us be together forever. I was afraid of the morning light and what
it would bring. I have never felt such fearful apprehension before in my
life. I had never felt such love before. I was drunk on it.
I held my love as she slept, our skins touching. I would be content, I
thought, to stay this way and never leave. I knew the dawn would come
and I would not be ready for it. Bits would leave and I would face being
alone again, only now I had experienced life with her. Could I ever go
back to my old life? |
(Continued)
