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Bonnie

By: StoryTeller07



Bonnie didn't think it proper to be early but she needed a drink to steady her nerves. The excitement of meeting a stranger was bordering on paranoia. She began to wonder if she really knew enough about him. What if he was a mass murderer or a pervert?

More realistically she thought they would meet and the chemistry would be zero. That's why she told nobody about this meeting. A secret meeting with a man seemed so exciting a prospect whereas now it was a worry.

They had corresponded for about six months through emails and built up an understanding of each other that rivalled several years of marriage. While still reeling from her husband's death she met him on line. He had been patient and understanding and made her laugh.

Eventually they sent pictures of each other with the rules, no faces, and no naughty bits. He broke a rule by showing a back view with his bum. Such a cute bottom drew her attention forgiving the rule braking. He had a full head of hair too.

She was forty-nine and her friend's husbands were losing theirs. It wasn't an important point but she had to go back over six months of emails, to find one of the first, confirming he was forty-one. She laughed to herself thinking she had a toy-boy. Well almost!

Perhaps this was an earlier photo or maybe it wasn't even him. Well it was too late now. For better or for worse she was here. Her figure was good and everyone told her she looked young. Physical attraction would surely be secondary after all that they had shared in writing.

It was a most dreadful thought, wondering if this meeting might spoil what they had.

'I must stop calling it that, it's a date,' she reminded herself. A smile beamed out lighting up her face. She felt like a teenager again.

"Hi, can I join you," a young man asked.

Bonnie looked up at him still smiling. She felt young and daring tonight so continued to smile. "I'm sorry, I'm meeting someone," she said, while looking around the hotel restaurant. 

"I hope you're not 'sorry' to be meeting them," he asked, with mock concern. 

Bonnie laughed a light tinkling sound of amusement. The cheeky young man pulled the chair up and sat down. In embarrassment she looked down at her bust then the hem of the dress. Everything was in order, though the gesture had been a subconscious movement. 

Bonnie had always been a little shy and was unused to being out unescorted. She was just out of the habit of going out. He certainly wouldn't have been so presumptuous if she were with a man or friends. 

Had he joined her as a joke or for a bet with friends? There was no way he would have noticed her sitting here out of the way. Perhaps he was selling something, or worse, he was an evangelist. She was already nervous, now this young idiot might spoil things. 

"I'd better introduce myself," he smiled. "I'm Darren and I hope your Bonnie, otherwise I've made a fool of myself," he smiled nervously.

"Darren!" she exclaimed. Trying to recover from the surprise she wondered what was happening. "Darren?" she repeated.

He nodded. She wondered if this too was some kind of joke being played on her. This young man wasn't forty-one or anywhere near. She blurted out, "How old are you?" Seeing the look of disappointment on his face she looked away. 

She felt the years creeping back upon her. "I'm sorry," she said. There didn't seem much else to say. The lighting was low and maybe he hadn't caught sight of her properly until he sat down. He was looking at her now though.

She looked away again feeling a blush tint her cheeks. The waiter appeared and she automatically sat up straight. "Are you ready to order, madam?" he asked.

"I'll have a Martini," she ordered. When he waited, she suddenly realised why.

"I'll have a bud light," Darren interrupted.

The waiter looked at her and she nodded. Damn! The waiter thought she was his mother or something. Damn!

"You had better go easy, you're not used to drinking," he said gently.

"Are you? Are you old enough to be drinking," she asked with an acid tone. "I'm sorry; this has been a bit of a jolt," she added.

"I guess we should have established our ages at the start. I realised you were older than me but never thought about it really," he shrugged. From the look he gave her he added, "I'm twenty-two." He left the statement open inviting her to reply.

"I'm nearly twice that," she lied. She felt so foolish. She had been so excited at the prospect of meeting him. She thought he might be her soul mate. How terrible was fate. "I thought you were forty-one," she said anxiously, "your email said so," she added, as though explaining herself and the bad manners.

"It must have been a typo. You don't look it," he smiled. 

"What?" she asked not listening. She was busy trying to think of a way out of this. 

"You look young. When you smiled at me you looked so tender and innocent. You wouldn't send a proper photo so I was relieved when I saw you. You're a very attractive woman," he shyly smiled.

He was embarrassed and so he should be. She took a long hard look at him while he studied the menu. From his emails she knew he was sincere and a caring person but surely he was just being kind. He was handling the shock better she was. He looked honest and straight forward though. What a pity it could never be.

"I feel I know you so well. I want to get to know you even better," he said. 

The earnest look in his eyes went straight to her heart. For a moment he was that slightly younger man she had fallen for. It shook her, admitting she had fallen for him through those emails. It was a privilege of the young to be honest. As you get older you have to be responsible and practical. 

"Are you hungry?" she asked. Bonnie hadn't noticed slipping into caring mother mode.

"I guess I am. Couldn't eat anything all day," he laughed.

"Me neither, I'm ravenous," she pronounced. Fortunately the service was faultless so there was only a short awkward silence waiting for a starter. 

"Wow! Try this, its just right," he told her. 

Being pressed with a fork of spring lamb, smothered in plum sauce, she could hardly refuse. "Mmm, nice," she smiled back at him. 

"It's so tender it melts in the mouth," he enthused. 

Watching him eat with gusto it was a surprise he tasted anything. A friend said to watch a man eat gave a clue as to how he made love. The thought startled her and she almost choked.

"This duck is gorgeous. It can be so tough if not cooked right," she said, trying to brush aside the thought. She picked up the glass and knocked it back finding it wasn't water or fruit juice. He was right she would have to take it easy.

The rest of the meal was as smooth in conversation as the food was tender. They laughed together pleasantly at first then with the openness of long time friends. A song played quietly in the background and he pointed out it was her favourite.

She had been so absorbed in their conversation it had gone unnoticed. They listened a moment then returned to an animated conversation. She forgot to hold back mentioning incidents from the past, before he was even born. He listened and laughed in all the right places. He shared his hopes for the future and she listened intently.

Bonnie felt young an alive.

"Oh! I didn't know it was this late, have you got a long drive home?" she asked. "You can't drive in this rain all that way! I hate driving at night and in rain too, no way," she sympathised. 

He shrugged his shoulders. "I tried to book a room but there's a conference on," he explained. 

"I've got a room," she said, with out thinking. "Oh! I didn't mean," she started and blushed, leaving it unfinished. 

They sat awkwardly for a moment. "I couldn't stand it if I let you go and something happened to you," she said.

"Well, I guess we are friends enough to share a room. I guess the carpet is deep enough in this place to be comfortable," he laughed.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. 

"If you feel uncomfortable, it's OK. Anyway I'd keep you awake all night talking," he laughed easily. 

"As long as you don't think, I mean, of course," she said, hesitantly.

Sitting up straight in the chair, she put on a determined expression. "We'll put pillows down the middle. I'm enjoying your company and look forward to talking all night," she said firmly. 

She heard herself emphasising the word 'talking' just a little too heavily. As though he would be interested in anything else; she was too old. Her face creased up at the thought. 

She caught him looking at her with concern. She smiled back, no longer so sure what she was doing. The Martini's didn't help at all. Before he could ask and she was forced to lie about her thoughts, the waiter returned with the bill.

He presented it to her and while Darren rummaged through his pockets she scribbled the room number on it. As an after thought she added a generous tip.

Nothing was going to happen but still she felt naughty. He caught her mood and so like a pair of adolescents they sneaked off to the elevators. Not looking in the mirror they stared at the digital numbers as they climbed to five. 

"The carpet is plush but doesn't look very comfortable," he joked. 

He pulled off his shirt over his head in one easy movement. She stood quite still staring at his back recognising it from the times she had studied the photo. Just to try and discern as much about him from it, that was all. He was undoing his belt and she gasped. 

"Oh! Sorry, shall I turn out the light?" he asked innocently. "I didn't think you would be shy," he said.

He walked passed her to the light. So close she could smell him. The aroma of deodorant had never been so gorgeous. 

"Here, let me help," he offered. 

She felt him unzip the dress. She had spent an age selecting just the right clothes. It was expensive and showed off her figure in an elegant style. It was not for this young man so was it a waste of time and money?

Damn! She had even worn stockings and suspenders from one of his emails. It hadn't been a naughty email it was just a musing between them. She had asked why men liked them. Alright they had been flirting but that's all.

Bonnie couldn't reveal them now. He would laugh or think her silly or more likely too old. 

The dress slipped from her shoulder and he put both hands on them. "You feel tense. I could give you a massage if you like," he offered.

A massage! Damn! She couldn't let him see her body let alone touch it. "I'll go to the bathroom," she murmured. In emails he had recounted progress while learning the techniques of massage. When he qualified she had congratulated him and he had promised a massage. She had dreamed of being in his hands. None of that was possible now.

In the bathroom she dare not put the light on to see herself in the mirror. The soft emergency light running along the floor would have to be enough. Going through the usual routine helped calm her. She snuggled into the fluffy hotel bathrobe feeling more secure. Still she hesitated.

"My turn," he said. 

She walked in avoiding looking at him. Quickly pulling a couple of pillows down the bed she slipped in between the sheets. The huge bed didn't seem so big anymore. He was quiet in there. She was used to husband noises. The only experience she had of sharing a room with a man.

She heard him walk in. The sounds were muffled with one ear pressed into a pillow and the duvet up to her nose. She pressed her eyes closed not daring to see him in his underwear. She could still see the top of his cute ass for it was burnt into memory from that lovely photo.

The duvet lifted and she opened her eyes wide. "You are so tense you won't be able to sleep at all," Darren told her.

Holding her shoulders he turned her from her side onto her tummy. All she could think of was being thankful to have such expensive new underwear on. At home she just wore whatever fit, not bothering about it matching. It covered her modestly, more than a bikini, but this wasn't a pool or the beach this was a bed! Opening her mouth to protest she sighed instead.

He put his hands flat on her back, "This is your time this is for you, your comfort. All you have to do is relax. You are safe and this is a safe place," he said. 

His voice was professionally gentle and calming. The deep warm timber of the tones lulled her. The feel of his warm hands on her skin wasn't just pleasant it was electric. 

She worried that her body might let her down, that she might fart; that wasn't what really worried her. "You shouldn't be doing this," she sighed, not moving to resist.

"I need the practise," he said.

The gentle laughter in his tone of voice made her happy. 

"You're not a client you're a friend, so can I unclip your bra," he asked quietly.

The whisper in her ear, the waft of breath across the small delicate hairs on her neck walked her into another place. It was as though they strolled hand in hand on a beach through the surf. She would say yes to anything.

Soft firm hands stroked her back, like a butterfly they teased her backbone. He rolled the back of her panties lower to reach further. A moment of hesitation was all she managed before slumping back into the pleasure zone. 

He had explored almost every part of her body. The remaining privacy seemed to be crying out for his caresses. She wanted him to touch those places that had been neglected for such a long time.

"I cannot resist, but will if you cannot bear it. I want to touch you everywhere," he whispered. 

At first she couldn't bring herself to understand what he meant. Had he really suggested what she needed? Not daring to speak, in case she misunderstood or dreamed it, she nodded her head.

Now on her back she felt the bra slipped off to reveal her breasts. She didn't want to but had to open her eyes. If there was disappointment on his face what would she do; besides cover her poor body and cry.

He didn't see her slit eyes in the poor light. He was admiring her breasts. He had them cupped in both hands holding them gently like little creatures needing tender care. She watched him bend to them knowing what he was about yet somehow curious as to what was happening. It was a surprise yet not unexpected when he gently kissed a nipple. 

She watched him as though it were happening to someone else. He sucked the nipple pulling it and as much of her breast as he could into his mouth. He was nibbling on a nipple and felt it swelling all the more.

When he moved to the other she gasped in expectation. It seemed all the more wonderful. She lifted her breast up to him as an offering. He let it go gradually so it sprang back into his cupped hand. 

He turned toward her face moving close. His lips touched hers and she moaned. He licked her lips sensitising them to every contact. When his tongue met hers she realised her mouth had opened up to him. 

Her whole body was responding to him without the slightest direction from her. How could she possibly resist? Still it seemed as though she were watching some other body being caressed. 

Feeling his hand touch her down there it seemed to drag her back inside. The full force of what he had being doing and was doing, her hit. All the sensations, from her breasts, her nipples, her lips and her tongue, swamped her mind. He held her chin, working on her mouth, and held her sex in the palm of his hand.

A desperate thought crossed her mind that she hadn't used a lubricant then his fingers touched her. She had been leaking into her panties for some time. It was a surprise he had brought her to such a state.

She was so very wet and so very open to him down there too. She felt his fingers pressing her bud. He had found it easily for she was so swollen and hard. A twinge of guilt nudged her on realising she had never been so wanton before. 

"You are so beautiful. I want to make love to you. I want to make you mine. I want you're large breasts, you're lovely round ass, your long legs, I want your pussy," he told her.

His heavy breathing matched hers, breaking up the sounds, making them sound exotic. She would never have spoken as she did had she not be so carried away. In desperation she told him, "Take me, do it to me, I'm yours," she moaned.

Feeling his weight was a joy. He rested on his elbows but she wanted to feel his arms around her, to be squashed, to feel a part of him. His cock touched her sensitive lips. She held her breath wanting to feel every touch. A ragged cry of joy came from deep within her stomach on feeling his cock enter her.

He was taking her. He was making her his. He was piercing her flesh. He was filling her with a rod of iron. Her breathe was dragged into her lungs on every up stroke as though he were pumping her up. She fought back with her hips, thrusting up at him to capture his weapon. 

"I'm nearly there, keep going," she breathed. 

He was young and virile able to keep going all night. There was no need to encourage him for he was a mighty stallion mounting his mare. He felt powerful, on top of the world, wanting the feeling to go on and on.

"Harder, deeper," she yelped. "I'm cumin, don't move," she pleaded.

Darren heard nothing for he too was in the throes of an orgasm. His chest heaved and his face returned to a pleasant self-satisfied smile.

She levered him off her. He slid to her side where she captured his head to cradle it on an arm. She pushed his face into her breast watching him nuzzle it for a moment. He fell asleep with her stroking his hair. She stroked his broad back with his lovely hard bottom just out of reach. 

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She told herself she needed this. She had been well and truly taken by a handsome young man. Damn the consequences she had enjoyed every moment. She tried to recall every touch to savour it and remember it. It was unlikely to ever happen again so she would squeeze every drop of pleasure from the wonderful experience. 

Bonnie & chris: Take Your Medicine



"Hon," Chris called down the hallway. "It’s time!"

Bonnie padded into the room in her bathrobe and gave him a petulant look from the doorway. "You hate having a sick wife at home, don't you," she said. "One day you're going to run off with the nurse." No one in his or her right mind would leave a woman like Bonnie and she knew it. But sometimes she liked to play games. 

"Shut up," Chris said, not unkindly. "I have to give you your medicine."

She approached him on the couch and lay across his lap. He lifted her nightgown and squeezed her supple ass. He gave her a light kiss on one cheek before parting the twin globes & dispensing a generous portion of ointment onto his finger. Gently, he slipped his finger between her cheeks and rubbed it around her tiny hole. Her bud clenched with the coolness, then relaxed as it warmed up against her skin. 

Her breath began to quicken, but she didn't stop talking. "You are going to run off with the nurse," she said. "I’ve seen the way she looks at you. And I’ve seen the way you look at her back." 

Chris didn't reply. Instead, he squeezed another dollop of ointment onto the tip of his finger and slipped it into Bonnie's softening anus. The grease slid along his finger as it disappeared into her tight hole. She sighed. The involuntary spasms of her asshole were tight, massaging his finger. He told her to keep still. 

"You won't want to fuck her at first, of course" she said, breathless. "Because you love me so much." his finger now lay solidly inside her and he twisted it gently, feeling himself grow hard underneath her belly. "But you know how much she wants you. She'll squeeze her big breasts in front of you. She'll bend down to pick something up and wiggle her ass right in your face. Finally, all that teasing will prove to be too much."

His second finger was poised next to the first one now and he pushed it in, slowly, softly, with insistent pressure. Bonnie paused in her story, sighing again. With his other hand, Chris held the globes of her ass apart & watched the flesh tremble as his fingers gained entrance. 

Bonnie's voice rose in pitch, but she didn't stop her nurse story. "She’ll drop to her knees in front of you and beg you to let her suck your dick. She'll finger her dripping pussy in your face and beg you to fuck her. Finally, you won't be able to resist. It won't even be your fault." 

Chris was working the third of his fingers into Bonnie's asshole, up to the second knuckle. He pushed them in shaped like a wedge, and once lodged inside, stretched them slowly apart until his fingers lay side by side. Her ring stretched around his knuckles with greasy squelching noises. The juice from her pussy had wet clear through her nightgown… he could feel the moistness on his lap. 

"When you fuck her you'll be angry. You will curse at her and call her names, and drive in hard with your big, thick dick until her eyes cross and her pussy is in a froth. You'll be thinking of me, your loving wife who you always have to give medicine to."

Bonnie’s waist writhed and shook. Chris pushed his fingers in and out of her as the flesh of her ass vibrated with her pleasure. She worked to keep her ass turned up to him, visible to him. She fought to swallow more of his fingers into the squishy tightness. 

She was stretching open. 

She wasn't talking anymore. 

He worked the pinky in and pistoned into her, his hand a wedge driving open her anal tunnel. Finally, a plug, huge, squat, wide. To prop the gate. 

With a smooth motion upward, Chris shifted Bonnie forward, dove between her cheeks and licked, bit tenderly around the base of the plug he'd just buried inside her ass. He rubbed his face in the juices of her pussy, licked down to her honey-dripping hole and pushed his tongue inside. He reached for the plug and rotated it slowly inside her and she started to come, vibrating and bouncing on his tongue. 

"Take it out," Bonnie said, her story forgotten. "Stop it, oh, God, stop..." but he didn't. "You can take it," he murmured into the folds of her pussy, pushing the plug into the juicy deepness of her stretched asshole & sucking on her clit. Her orgasm grew stronger, her waist bucking with violence now. 

He held her clit in his mouth and grew still until his stillness washed through her and her hips quieted to an occasional tremor. He applied pressure to the butt plug and leaned over her ear. 

"Honey, do you really want me to stop administering your medicine?" 

She squirmed in his lap. A wicked little smile crossed her fatigued and satisfied face.

"If you do," she said, "you'll have to give me twice as much next time."



Bonnie & Clyde



The excitement builds as we near the bank entrance. Even though we've done this before, the rush of adrenalin always kicks in. The grey, ominous clouds and light drizzle of rain falling on us gives us perfect cover for wearing our trench coats, which hide our surprise for the unsuspecting people inside that bank. You reach over and give my hand a quick squeeze as we pause, and take one final look around before we enter the bank. I pull the door open and we step inside in unison.

We immediately pull out our guns and hold them over our heads. 

"This is a robbery-nobody move!" 

All heads and eyes turn towards us in shock and surprise. You move with feline quickness to the tellers at the front of the bank. Our faces concealed by masks, our hair color concealed by wigs, we feel totally anonymous and in control. It's a pretty small town and there are only a few customers in the bank, making the situation easier to manipulate. I keep an eye on the people out front as you get the bags filled. Your lithe body moves with dexterity and quickness collecting from all the tellers and getting access to the vault. 

I survey the people out front and collect wallets from the customers in line. Within 2 minutes our pillaging is complete. We walk backwards slowly towards the door, and as we look directly into one of the security cameras, you give a quick curtsy and I a quick bow, and we walk out of the bank. 

As you walk out in front of me, the view of your swaying hips to your sexy saunter, and the fact that we just made loads of cash, is already getting me aroused. We pull off our masks and stuff them in our trench coats, just in time as some stranger on the sidewalk nonchalantly passes us. We make it into the car and quickly-but not too quickly-drive away and into normal traffic. 

We simultaneously let out a howl of joy and then look each other in the eye, with huge, shit-eating smirks on our faces. We take off our wigs and throw them into the back. You squeeze my hand in excitement as you tap your heels on the baseboard. WE MADE IT!!

With your hand still on mine, I deftly move it over to your leg, and start sliding it in the slit in your trench coat. My fingers encounter the smooth skin of your thigh, and now your hand is starting to push my hand closer towards your nether regions. I let you push it a little, but then I resist as my hand rests mere inches from your sweet spot. You try and push harder but I resist. 

"Baby, I'm getting SOOO turned on!" you moan.

I glance over, looking deep into your eyes, and you feel my sexual power flow into your body. You actually shiver as my stare heats you up and tingles your skin. Your hand has moved over and is now resting on my knee, your fingers painting lazy circles on it. I start kneading the flesh of your inner thigh, feeling it warm under my touch. My eyes soak in your beautiful essence, but I return my concentration to the road. However, my hand has a mind of it's own!

As I caress your leg under your skirt, I feel an unexpected surprise-you're wearing lace garters! As my face lights, I say, 

"Baby, you never cease to amaze me!" 

My fingers finally reach the edge of your panties, and they are already SOAKED! The touch causes an immediate reaction of you parting your legs-almost as if my fingers unlocked the key to the hidden treasure vault. 

An audible moan escapes your lips. One of your swollen pussy lips is protruding from the edge of your panties. My fingers gently rub the moist flesh at your panty line and your hand instinctively grab my hardening cock through my pants. You throw your head back as you gasp in pleasure and anticipation. It is SOO hard to keep my focus on the road! Right now, I am so turned on, I wouldn't care if the police caught us, just as long as they let us finish first!

After making sure we are on a straight road with no cars around us, I lean over so we can kiss. Your hands clutch the sides of my face as our tongues passionately entwine. Our lips lock as we both moan our pleasure into each other's mouths. I break the kiss to look back at the road. We are almost home! 

My fingers slither under the panties and plunge into your slick, wet pussy. You gasp in pleasure as your legs lock around my hand with the surprise of sudden penetration. Your hand nearest me is fumbling with the buttons and zipper on my pants, while the other slides underneath your bra to cup your heaving breast.

You free my cock from its cloth prison and devour it between you lips. Road head!!! SOOO NAUGHTY! I let out a moan of pleasure as your tongue bathes my dick with your saliva. Your soft, velvety lips, tongue and mouth combine to make the ultimate in pleasurable sensation. I am forced to slow down because it is next to impossible to concentrate. I believe I'm starting to swerve a little on the road. 

My hand runs through your hair and caresses your scalp as your mouth performs its magic on my member. I run my fingernails down to the small of your back, where by leaning over they can finally reach your soft skin. I hear the sucking and licking noises coming from your mouth, making me even hotter. 

"You are an ARTISTE at head, baby!" 

Your fingers my cup my balls, swollen with cum. Your tongue swirls around the head of my penis and I force myself to hold back from cumming.

Up ahead, it looks like an abandoned dirt road and I pull off as quickly as I can. I can't wait to make it to the hideout, even as close by as it is. The location is perfect because, after about a hundred yards, it bends back and is hidden from the road by a grove of trees. I pull the car to a stop and, as difficult as it is, I lift your head off my cock and look into your knowing eyes. We mash our mouths together for a sloppy, wet kiss and then we, in unison, both open our car doors so our passion is no longer confined to the restraints of the car's interior. 

We head around back, each frantically removing clothing(except your sexy garters) with each step, until we are naked and free in front of the trunk. Our bodies collide, my hands cupping your face as our tongues explore the depths of each other's mouths. As our hips meet, my cock is pushed up against your taught midriff between us. Your hands grab and squeeze my ass cheeks as I feel your beautiful, bouncy breasts mashed against my chest. The light drizzle of rains feels invigorating on our skin.

I break our kiss, lift you at your hips and sit you on the back of the trunk. My hands grab each of your thighs and spread them wide. I normally like to tease, but my passion has no patience at this moment, and I bury my head in your exquisite pussy. I lick your pussy lips and kiss the hood over your clit. My eyes meet your yours, and you lean back on your elbows and cup your breasts. 

Your juices are like an oasis in a desert, quenching my thirst for you. The rain is falling a bit harder now, leaving droplets on your beautiful, soft skin. Your head rolls back and a cry of passion escapes your lips, which fuels my passion for you. I lick your sweet little asshole and slide it back up to your pussy, my tongue thrusting inside you. You start to push your hips forward to match the thrusting of my tongue. 

I slip a finger in, under my tongue and I push it up towards the roof of your pussy wall to your G-spot. 

"Oh. My. God." you moan. 

My cock is rock hard and your words and sounds make it even harder. I pull the hood of your clit back and swirl my tongue around it, bathing it in my saliva. My fingers are coated in your juices. Your body shudders in pleasure.

I break my lip lock on your pussy and pull you down the hood of the trunk, so I can finally enter you. First I rub the underside of my shaft on your outer pussy lips, lubricating it with your juices. I stroke up and down outside your pussy, letting the throbbing head of my penis rub against your exposed clit. Finally I can take no more and I thrust my shaft inside your welcoming vagina. 

We both grunt in pleasure. My first thrust goes all the way in-I am actually on my tip toes so I can get maximum penetration-and your juices bath my pubic hair. I put your legs over my shoulders and your feet lock behind my neck. I start thrusting in and out of you like a piston in an engine. Your breasts bounce each time my thighs smack your ass. 

Your body is a visual wonderland. I take my hand and cup your neck, pulling your head towards me. With our foreheads touching, we look deep into each other's eyes-we are overflowing with passion. There is no where I would rather be in the world right now than with you. Our bodies, hearts and minds are intertwined, we are weaving our own beautiful tapestry. 

We kiss deeply, as our moans are muffled by our locked mouths. I break our kiss and my hands grab your ass cheeks so I can lift you off the hood. Your legs wrap around my sweaty back as I lift and then lower you back onto my cock. Your hand reaches under us and plays with my balls. 

"You are so fucking SEXY and BEAUTIFUL, baby!" I grunt. 

"I can't get enough of you!" 

You start kissing my neck and earlobe as your heaving breasts mash against my chest, slippery with the sweat and rain between us. Your arms are wrapped around my neck and then one reaches down and slowly scratches my back. You are marking your territory.

I lift you off my cock, and set you down, this time turning you around, as I place your hands against the trunk. I slide my raging hard-on in the crevice between your gorgeous ass checks. I grab the base of my cock and slap those sumptuous cheeks with my shaft, before sliding it back into your sweet, drenched pussy. As I slide back out, your cream is coating the base of my cock, sticking to my pubes. I love that sight! 

"You are creaming all over my cock, gorgeous!" 

"I can't get enough of you!" you reply. 

I grab the hair at the base of your head and pull back so your are arching your neck. 

"I'm gunna make you explode on my rock-hard cock!!" 

"Do it baby!" you gasp. 

I am rotating my hips as I thrust in and out of you-I want to hit every inch inside of you. When I plunge fully inside, I rotate my hips in a circular motion, like we are on the dance floor. The hot, wet friction between pussy and cock is getting almost too much to bear.

I lean over and one hand grabs a swollen, bouncing breast, and my other hand meets yours at your clit. We are both rubbing frantically. 

"I can't hold back much longer-this is too good, sexy" 

I bite your shoulder and kiss and lick down your back. You turn your head and our eyes lock in passion and longing. I can feel your pussy walls as they tighten around my shaft in a vise-like grip. I am so close. My hands grab your waist and lift your legs off the ground, your hands on the trunk balancing you and your legs locked around my hips for support. I pull your body horizontal to the ground and start jackhammering your pussy. There is no turning back now. 

"Cum inside me, baby!" you moan. 

Our bodies slap together at cock and pussy, hips and ass-the collision causing droplets of sweat and water to fly in the air. I pound my last several thrusts inside you, you looking back at me with those big beautiful eyes, and I clench my toes as I cum inside you. My body spasms as we cum together, our love juices intermingling, creating our own special nectar. My body spasms several more times, as I set you down and gasp for breath. You lean back into my chest, and my cock slips out of your and you squeeze it between your legs. You rest your head on my shoulder and my hand caresses your neck as I kiss and nibble your ear while the rain cools our passions...



Bonnie and Clyde Armistead



Occasionally, I get a story idea sent to me by a reader. This story is based on one such offering. It is completely fiction, and the allusion to the infamous Bonnie and Clyde is per their names only; put another way, this story has no relationship whatsoever to the gangster pair of the 1930s. Similarly, the Ana Campanas character in the story is no relation to the "Woman in Red" of John Dilinger fame either. At any rate, here goes. 

******

"Such is the pow'r of love in gentle mind that it can alter all the course of kind." (Edmund Spencer)

"I'm sorry mister Campanas. I just can't see my way clear to sign with you. You've always been a reliable distributor, but your rate structure doesn't work for me tax-wise. My accountant has advised me against this kind of contract until after the first of the year and then only if the law is changed which at the moment, he assures me, is iffy," said mister Crocker.

"Joe, we can work the contract some to better suit you. You've always been satisfied with our work before?" said Michael Campanas.

"I'm sorry, Michael. It's just not a good time. Hopefully we'll be able to connect next year," said mister Crocker.

"May I ask who your accountant might be?" said Michael.

"Clyde Armistead. He's the best around," said mister Crocker.

"Armistead? Clyde Armistead?" said Michael.

"Yes," said Joe Crocker. Michael Campanas slowly shook his head. He knew Armistead; well, he knew him to see him. Some of his colleagues used the man for their quantity control.

"I know him slightly. Got a pretty wife as I recall," said Michael Campanas, now trying to lighten the mood himself.

"Yes, I've met her. She's very pretty indeed," said Joseph Crocker.

"She's not an accountant though," said Michael, wondering why Joe Crocker would ever have met her.

"No, no, she works for Roma's salon on third. She's my wife's stylist," said mister Crocker. "My wife and I had dinner with them a few weeks ago." He didn't see the look in the other man's eyes. "I've never met your wife, have I mister Campanas?"

"Who? Ana? No, I don't think so. She kinda stays clear of my business interests. She's got a handful just taking care of the kids: we got five of 'em," said Michael Campanas.

******

"Hubby do this for you?" said Michael.

"Shut up and fuck me," said Bonnie Armistead.

"Not until you tell me who does you the best," he said.

"You do, asshole, now get busy and do your duty," she said

"And, your hubby?" he said.

"I already answered you. You do me best. Isn't that enough?" she said.

He got off the bed and reached for the pile of clothes on the floor. He didn't even look at her, but he was laughing inside.

"What are you doing! Get back here!" she said.

He ignored her.

"Okay, okay, his tiny cock is near useless and he has almost zero talent when it comes to bedroom skills," she said. "Now are you satisfied?"

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact I am," he said. "He and my wife would make a pair for sure. They could be useless in bed together! Wonder how he'd like to be raisin' a bus load of rug rats." He broke out laughing.

"Shut the fuck up, asshole, and screw me. Do it now!" she commanded.

He made a big production of remounting her and ramming his cock home. She grunted and groaned at the sudden roughness of the man. A roughness she had come to love. The man himself? Hell no, she didn't love him; she didn't even like him. He was good at animalistic sex, but he was virtually worthless in any other respect; she wondered what his wife would do if she knew he was spreading his pollen. Her Clyde had it all over him as a man and a husband. But, sadly, very sadly, Clyde was less than nothing in the love making department.

"You gotta stop putting Clyde down every time we do it," she said as they dressed. "What did he ever do to you? Let me answer my own question—nothing."

"You wanna keep doing this or not," said Michael, ignoring her apparent ire.

"Well, yes, but I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop talking smack about him while you and I are together. Please!" she said.

"Okay, then, this is the deal. I'll—we'll—stop talking smack about him, but you've got tell him about us and tell him that he can't have sex with you anymore. He's a wimp and a cuckold. I hate sharing a woman of your quality with a nothing like Clyde Armistead.

"You asked what he ever did to me. You're forgetting that he cost me the Crocker contract? Him messing with my business like he did has to have a consequence. This is it. I get his wife for sex, and he gets to eat my cum out of her when I'm done. But except for that, your pussy is off limits to him. Got it?" She was horrified.

"He'd never go for being cut off like that! Not ever" she said. "You've gone too far this time, Michael. The answer is no!" He shrugged. "And, he didn't cost you that contract. He's an accountant, and advised his client to watch his pennies and that's all: I was there; I heard it all. He didn't know that you were courting the Crocker account; he still doesn't!"

"Too bad, but it is still your choice. It's been nice doing you," he said. "I'll let myself out." She stood there open-mouthed and watched him leave.

"Shit!" she said loud enough to wake the dead two states away. Cutting her husband off! Oh yeah, that would go over real big with that good man. Well, it would go over good if she wanted a divorce! Which she sure as hell did not! But...

Could she get along without Michael's cock? Very few ten inch cocks existed at all let alone attached to a man-beast who could give a woman multiple orgasms virtually every time he did her. No, she had to have it. And, she had to make sure that her man, her husband, her real man, didn't leave her. Fucking asshole, Michael; he was blackmailing her; that was the only possible description of what he was doing to her.

****** 

I was just finishing up dinner. I leaned back in my seat and smiled at the most beautiful woman in the world, my wife, Bonnie Armistead.

"That dinner was fantastic, honey. I mean really first rate," I said.

"Well, thank you mister man," she said. "Say, honey, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course. What?" I said.

"Well, I was talking to Marie Bradshaw today. You know my friend at the salon: husband's still in Iraq. She knows Michael Campanas. That wholesaler guy we met last year at her birthday party. The one who handles all of those big clothier contracts for the department stores," said Bonnie.

'Okay?" I said.

"Well, she said that Joe Crocker shined him on because of something you said."

"Something I said?" I said. "How so?"

"Said you told him not to sign with mister Campanas," said Bonnie. I started nodding my understanding of her words.

"No, no, I didn't tell him to sign or not sign with anybody. You were there when I met with Joe and his wife last tax time," I said.

"Yes, I was, but for some reason mister Campanas evidently blames you for Joe going with another wholesaler."

"I'm not sure I follow you, honey, but I never advised Joe to go or not go with any particular somebody. I just told him he had to be careful with his reserve funds because it was a tight market and add to that the tax bite this year could be more than a little problematical.

"But, tell me, why is Marie Bradshaw talking to you about this kind of stuff in the first place?" I said.

"Well, Mic...mister Campanas, is kinda upset with you," she said, "Oh, and Marie knows him pretty good."

"Well, you can tell Marie that I work for my clients not her friend this Campanas guy. I'd be derelict if I didn't," I said. She smiled, but it was a strained smile. Something was up, and it didn't look to be something that I was going to be liking much. And, yes, I did catch her almost refer to mister Campanas by his first name.

We finished cleaning up and headed upstairs. I stripped preparatory to what I intended would be the second night in a row of a very good and very raw sex and romance. She was in the bathroom.

When she came out she was wearing her long nightie, a sure sign that she was not interested. She caught my look.

"Honey I'm just a little too tired tonight. Okay? We did it last night. Just give me a break tonight. Okay?" she said in a plaintive voice.

Her tone, her look, something cued me. "What's going on, Bon," I said. "Something's not right." For no good reason, I decided to take a flyer. "Does this have anything to do with that Campanas thing?" She sighed.

She began pacing back and forth. I could see that she was gearing up to lay something heavy on me. What I never would have imagined, guessed, dreamed in my most horrifying of nightmares was what she did in fact lay on me.

"Honey, I love you. I love no one else. And except for Bobby Russell in the ninth grade, I never have loved anyone else. And, I never will if it comes to that," she said. The words were right, the tone—not.

"But Honey—well—I have a lover. It's Michael Campanas," she said.

"What did you say?" I said.

"Please, don't get mad, and don't worry. He's nothing to us," she said.

"You're not kidding are you?" I said.

"No. But it doesn't have to affect us hardly at all," she said.

"Hardly at all? What does that mean? You mean except for the fact that we'll be divorcing now," I said. Her look screamed shock at my words, but she controlled her tone.

"Heavens no! I don't want a divorce, and I know you don't want one either," she said.

"Well, unless I'm missing something really big here, you've got one anyway," I said.

"Okay, okay. I need to explain myself. I knew I would. And, now I'm going to. Okay?" she said. I was shooting daggers at her with my eyes but saying nothing. I nodded for her to go on.

"Okay, it's like this," she started. "Michael and I have something going on the side. He's got equipment that few other human males have. I wanted—no, needed—to experience it; so I did."

"And this has been going on how long?" I said, not really caring anymore one way or the other. I wasn't quite snorting, but close.

"Since the Bradshaw's party last year. The one I mentioned earlier," she said. I nodded. I was seething inside: I'd been a cuckold for a year and not a clue.

"Honey, it doesn't have to affect us at all," she said.

"Sloppy seconds? I've been getting them right along haven't I?" I said. She looked away. "All those times I thought you were ultra-wet because you were turned on by me. In reality you were laughing at me while I sucked him out of you.

"Fuck!" I said. "Bonnie, did I ever really know you? I mean you feeding me sloppy seconds. And, you say this doesn't affect us? Are you crazy?"

"I never, ever laughed at you. I always treated you with respect. Yes, there were some sloppies, but really only a few. Mainly because you wouldn't take no for an answer, like last night. And well, I didn't see any harm in it," she said.

"You cheated on me, Bonnie, that's the harm. You let me suck his cum out of you, and you knew I would, because I always eat you to make sure you get off, that's also a harm, i.e., you knowing exactly what you were doing to me. You have any idea how humiliating this is for me? Does he know you made me eat his cum out of you?" I said. She looked away—again.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck! How could you do this shit, Bon, I really loved you. I mean with all of my heart. Wait! You said '...like last night.' You fucked him yesterday didn't you?" I said.

"Yes, and today, today's when he told me about Crocker. He's very angry with you, Clyde. I guess he kind of wants revenge because of the contract," she said. "But I told him no way. I defended you."

"A fucking cuckold. I'm a fucking cuckold; I will never be able to live this down. Never!" I said.

"Yes you can and yes you will. You are my man, my husband. I need you, and you need me. So what if Michael screws me. He never gets the real me, only you get that," she said.

"You being my cuckold makes me feel closer to you than ever. You should be proud to be my cuckold, not feeling embarrassed about it," she said.

"Are you serious? You need help. I mean really, I'm almost willing to forgive you, because I think you are off your rocker," I said.

"Clyde, there will be no divorce. And, to be honest, I'm glad that this has happened. Now, I don't have to be sneaking around. I can finally be upfront with you about what we need to do. How we need to be together. You need to deal with it, Clyde; you need to deal with this—situation. But really, it will make hardly any difference to the real us whatsoever. You've been eating him out of me off and on for a year. It hasn't killed you, and it's been a huge turn on for me. So just sit back and enjoy the ride," she said. "Like I said, deal with it."

"What part of we're getting a divorce didn't you get, Bonnie. We're splitsville. Got it?" I said. "Your arrogance pushed this—situation—as you call it beyond the pale. We're done."

"Clyde, it's you that don't get it. I will fight you on a divorce because I want and need you. But, if you insist on such a course, and if you somehow manage to get one, a divorce, you will force me to take you for everything you've got. I'll make it so hard on you that you will be crawling back to me on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness and a second chance; and yes, to be my cuckold.

Clyde, I won't be raping you in a divorce because I want to; I don't, but I will if you leave me no choice. Clyde, I will do my damnedest to make sure you remain mine. But please, again, I want you and need you; and, you need me too," she said.

"You need me, but you'll rape me in a divorce. You want me, but you'll deny me intercourse with you: make me a de facto eunuch. All to please that asshole! Wonderful, Bonnie.

"Let me put it this way. You may try to hurt me in a divorce or somehow even block it. But, I swear to you the following; you won't like living with me, not with the hatred that's building in me at this moment. The husband you intend to cuckold and deny sex to is not without resources, believe it. Also, your boyfriend is about to reap the whirlwind; depend on it," I said. She momentarily lost her poise, when I mentioned going after her boyfriend, but she steadied herself.

"Clyde be reasonable. I don't want us to fight. My God I don't," she said.

"A fight? You've got a war, missy, and you're the one who declared it. Prepare yourself," I said.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't! Could she, as she said, be so cold hearted as to actually try to rape me in divorce court just to maintain her adulterous liaison with her asshole boyfriend! I couldn't believe it! She had been the love of my life. As for ever crawling back to her on my hands and knees; well, I did say she was crazy didn't I. 

******

"You actually told him that?" said Marie Bradshaw. "Wow. You have balls of Kryptonian steel"

"Believe it, I did lay it on him like that. But, in the end he decided to risk it anyway. Like I said, he dumped me and walked out without so much as a by-your-leave," said Bonnie.

"Whaddya gonna do?" said Marie.

"For the moment, nothing. It's his move. I know he needs a little time to calm down and get his head on straight. You know come to grips with things. I'm hoping that he rethinks his plans and just comes back to me. If he does, I will make it easy for him. I mean no rubbing his nose in it. I am fully aware that his ego is in a very delicate state right now. And, I will act accordingly that is if he does get his act together. But, if he goes for the divorce, well, I guess we'll just have to go to war. I refuse to lose him."

"And Michael?" said Marie. "What if he does go after him?"

"That's the one thing that I am kinda worried about. I told Michael, warned him, but he says he's not vulnerable. So, I guess that's not something I have to be concerned with," said Bonnie.

"You know your husband being an accountant makes him privy to a lot of things and maybe friends with a lot of influential folks. You sure Michael is Teflon," said Marie.

"Yes, I think so. He was pretty confident. But that asshole, Marie, if it weren't for his dick, he'd be hittin' the pavement and leaving skid marks on the asphalt in the process right now," said Bonnie. He's so fucking stupid. I tell yuh, I don't know how the guy ever made any money in his business; he's a complete fool," said Bonnie.

"He's ruthless, that's how," said Marie. "I know Michael Campanas real well. He's known for taking no prisoners—ever. It's kind of a matter of honor with him, if you know what I mean."

"Hmm, honor, as if he could even spell the word," said Bonnie.

"When are you going to see him again?" said Marie.

"He'll have me bent over his couch drilling me from behind in about an hour," said Bonnie. "I like it when he does me doggy. It gives him more ways to control me, master me. God how I love it when he takes me. It's the female submissive in me. You know, that's part of the problem with my husband: he's such a wuss; he never takes me; he always treats me like a Lladro figurine ."

"And for you that's a bad thing?" said Marie.

"Well, it would just be nice if for once he'd just do me without worrying about—what—if he were ramming me too hard," said Bonnie. "But, I do love him, and I guess gentle is just who he is, I suppose."

"Oh how horrible that must be for you," said Marie, laughing. Bonnie snickered.

"Well it's true," said Bonnie. "He's so vanilla it's almost embarrassing, even when we're alone! Anyway, you have to help me. I've got an idea." Her friend looked at her.

"Okay?" said Marie.

****** 

"Where have you been buster?" said Ana Campanas.

"Nowhere. A few drinks with Amos down at Bud's," said Michael.

"Hmm, Amos huh? And if I run into Amos tomorrow or the next day, he gonna have his story down straight?" said Ana. He just looked at her and snickered.

"If you mean will he remember what we were doing and where we were, yeah, probably," said Michael.

"Yeah, I'm sure," said Ana. "The kids are in bed. You need to go up and say good night to them. They were not happy when they found out you'd be working late again. You've been late too damn many times lately, Michael. This has to stop. The babies, our babies, are too precious to treat like you've been treating them, neglecting them really." He looked at her and realized he had been less than fair to the children.

"Okay, you're right. I'll make arrangements, somehow, from now on," he said. His words seemed to mollify her. She nodded.

"Let's go to bed. I hope you're up for some exercise, superman, because I am," she said. He looked a little dubious.

"Yeah, I think I can accommodate yuh," he said. "You gonna do your magic mouth thing on me?" She looked him askance.

"Okay, if you want," she said.

"If I want? You serious? What normal male wouldn't want!" he said, almost too vehemently.

He reached for a now cold burrito that was still on the tray on the kitchen table. He wolfed it down. Even superman needed sustenance to be able to perform sexually with any degree of enthusiasm. He knew he could be about to be in trouble. He'd already drained himself three times into Bonnie. He only hoped he'd have at least more one bullet left for his wife. If he failed to cum inside of her, there could be hell to pay. Oh yeah, hell to pay.

He'd been taking too many chances lately trying his best to fuck over the asshole who'd done him and his business hurt. But, if his lawyer wife figured it out, he was screwed, blued, and tattooed and those not too gently either.

He headed up the stairs. The four boys shared two sets of bunk beds in the biggest room. The room had its own bathroom too, so they didn't have the usual chicken fights that boys often did sisters. He smiled his pride as he stood there watching them breathing rhythmically in the pure innocence of children their ages.





Bonnie and Clyde Armistead



Crossing the hall he looked down on his daddy's girl, thirteen year-old Clarice; she was the oldest. She was beautiful and smart and her daddy's heart. Looked like her mother though; that was a lucky thing, he allowed. He kissed her on her forehead, and left closing the door gently behind him.

He breathed deeply before entering their bedroom and wished himself luck. His wife was already lying on the bed. She was wearing her most revealing teddy. Jesus, she looked almost as pretty as Bonnie Armistead. He took his time disrobing.

Finally naked, he stood by the bed, his partially erect penis waving a greeting to her in front of him. She looked him askance. 

"Looks like you need a little help, stud," she said. "Come here." He did as she said trying his damnedest to smile. But, he was worried, and that never helped him get hard.

It took her several minutes, but he was finally hard enough to do her. She pulled back for a second and said something that stunned him. "Blow it in my mouth, stud, I want to get the first one out of the way, so you can last a little while. He was too far gone to resist. He unloaded in her mouth and she swallowed it all.

He shrank out of her like a pair of unsanforized jeans on hot cycle. She tried to get him up tickling, sucking, playing, but the best she could do—or he could do—was get about half hard.

"You been jacking off, mister!" she said, accusingly. He swallowed. 

"No," he said, kind of weakly. She seemed to buy it.

"You have haven't you. Either that or you're screwing some little number on the side. Let me warn you, mister studley, if I catch you with that dick in any other cunt but mine there will be no damn forgiveness. I hope I make myself perfectly clear." She didn't see him shudder, but he did. 

******

I'd almost worn out the bar stool at Bud's Bar, or so it seemed to me, and that in just the seven days since I'd left the love of my life, one Bonnie Armistead nee Finnley.

I thought about going back and trying to reason with her. But, remembering how she'd acted and her incredibly flawed reasoning, I knew it would be futile. So, I drank. I drank a lot, an awful lot. And, it helped. No really, it did help.

And, then there was someone sitting on the barstool next to mine. "Find any solace in that stuff," said Marie. I looked over at her.

"What are you doing here? Go back to your friend, and tell her you've seen me and I'm just fine thank you very much," I said.

"Oh, I'll tell her, but I'll be telling her the truth. That you're crying in your beer. That you wish it was her sitting here instead of me, and that you're almost ready to go crawling back to her on your hands and knees," said Marie. I snickered.

"Yeah, right," I said. "Not a fucking chance. Tell her that too."

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah really," I said. "You have no idea the hurt she laid on me No idea. She utterly destroyed me, and she told me I had to like it—uh—deal with it, I think were her exact words."

"Yes, she did say she'd done you pretty cold. I think she'd like to have some of that back," said Marie.

"Too late," I said. "Like I said before, you have no idea how bad she's hurt me. And, I mean I will never actually get over the things she's said. Ten years from now, maybe when my next wife and I are having dinner, I will reflect back on it all and start crying my eyes out again because of that hurt. I know it. I know it as a great truth."

"You really going to divorce her?" said Marie. "I mean no way you could see your way clear to talk to her, maybe get by all of this stuff—the hurt?"

"Yep and nope," I said. "I've already seen a lawyer. And, yeah, I know the bad news is that she's gonna be able to hurt me real bad there too. Well, hell, I guess that's what she wants for me, hurt."

"That's not true. She wants to talk to you and soften the stuff she laid on you. She really is sorry about how she went about things," said Marie. "I think at the time she just wanted to get it all out there so the two of you could deal with the situation like adults, and not get into a guzzillion meaningless word games," said Marie.

"And her lover?" I said. "I mean he is the fly in the ointment, know what I mean?"

"She's not giving him up. But, she doesn't want to give you up either. She does intend to fight you if you try to divorce her," said Marie.

"Won't give him up? Well, that pretty much puts the boff on me ever speaking to her again except through the lawyers. Oh, and there will not be any 'trying' to divorce her, oh no, I am 'going' to divorce her flat period.

"There is no way she can stop me. She can delay things I guess, fuck me over even worse than she already has, but sooner or later I will be free of her. Hell, I just may leave the country and leave her to her lover and the fallout from that. He'll dump on her eventually, just like she has on me; then, maybe she'll understand just how much this has cost her, not just me," I said.

"Actually, I agree with you on that last part. He will dump on her eventually, that's guaranteed. I don't want to see her hurt any more than I want to see you hurt. And, I know you don't want to hurt her or see her hurt either," said Marie.

"Uh-huh," I said, but it was a sardonic uh-huh.

"Yes, uh-huh. I want you to go back and wait her out. Yes, your ego will be taking a helluva beating, but in the long run you'll be the winner and she'll be the one crawling back to you begging forgiveness which you will generously grant," said Marie. I started laughing. Well, it was funny.

"Her crawl back to me. Now, there's an image I can get my head around," I said. "It'll never happen."

"Look, Clyde, I know mister Campanas, and I know his wife Ana. And, at some point that, his wife, is an angle that you might want to work on. He's a scumbag. His wife is a strong woman if I'm any judge, and if she finds out about what he's doing, well...

"But, as for you and Bonnie, You just have to be patient, but mostly, you just have to be there in the first place. Not sitting here wishing you were there.

You need to go back, and yes, with your tail between your legs, and let her play at welcoming you home. But, don't have sex with her. Just tell her that while she is entertaining the neighborhood that you will remain celibate. Like I said, wait her out. It might take a while, but in the end you will come out on top," said Marie.

I looked at her hard. She was actually making sense. I wasn't sure about the celibacy part. That would be more than a tough nut for me, but maybe there might be a way...

I had to think. Marie and I talked a little more, but then she was gone, and I was left with my thoughts. 

******

"Did he buy it?" said Bonnie.

"Maybe. I gave him something to think about. But, if he's not back in a couple of days, maybe not," said Marie. Bonnie nodded.

"Okay, I've got my fingers crossed. I guess it's going to be a waiting game for now," said Bonnie. 

****** 

I parked in front of the house and just sat there. Was I playing a losing hand? I figured I was. Was it worth a second try in any event? I figured it also was. I took a deep breath, exited my car, and headed up the walkway to the front door. She opened it before I was quite up the last step of the porch.

"Thank God!" was her initial greeting. Her second greeting was a hug, but no kiss; I thought that telling, but I said nothing. "Honey, I am so glad you're back. I was so worried. I mean after our last little talk..." she said.

"Yes, I'm back, but I'm not sure if I'm going to be staying, and if I do for how long," I said.

"Oh, honey, please, let me prove to you that I love only you and that you belong here with me. I know what I said to you before may have made you wonder about that; but, nothing could be less true than me wanting anyone more than you," she said.

"But, you will have others beside me whether I like it or not, or, am I wrong about that?" I said.

"Honey, we need to talk. I need to plead my case better than I did before. I know when you see all sides of the situation that you will understand why nothing I have done, or ever will do, is going to matter an iota.

"Anyway, we need to eat and hug and maybe share a glass or two of wine before we go to bed. Would that be all right?" she said. I nodded.

Marie's advice came back to me and made me wonder. "Move back, she'd said, "but don't have sex with her. Make her wait until the asshole she's fucking around on you with, screws her over, and he will. Then, you'll be there to pick up the pieces," Marie had said.

Marie's advice made sense on a purely intellectual level. But, it did not take into consideration my current desperate state of horniness. I'd take her tonight. I'd think about taking Marie's advice tomorrow—maybe.

We ate and cleaned up the dishes together. We even shared a laugh or two about how domestic we seemed to be at that moment.

"Well, it's time to hit the hay," I said with some enthusiasm; again, that rising out of my desperate need to get laid. She gave me a doubtful look, but said nothing.

I was lying on top of the covers naked and anxious. I wondered how our first night together would go. She came out of the bathroom dressed in her flannels—again—her signal that there would be no sex.

"Honey?" I said.

"Yes?" she said.

"You're wearing your flannels?" I said.

"Well, I'm kind of tired tonight," she said.

"Wait, wait, are you saying no way to sex with me? That rule hasn't changed?" I said.

"Honey..."

"What's going on, Bonnie? I know you're not tired. You're dodging having sex with me. What's going on here that I'm not getting?" I said.

She sat down heavily on her vanity stool. "You know I'm still having sex with Michael, right?" she said.

"So if you fucked him today, take a shower. We'll discuss him tomorrow after we make love again in the morning," I said.

"Honey, I can't," she said.

"Can't what?' I said.

"Have sex with you. Not intercourse anyway," she said. She seemed genuinely sorry for what she was saying.

"Huh? You mean ever?" she looked away.

"Answer me!" I yelled. She jumped.

"Honey, it'll be all right. I'll ask Michael to allow me to let you do me once in a while. Okay?" she said.

"Huh? What? Why would you ask him for anything that has to do with me," I said.

"Michael's well, he has made it clear to me that I can't have sex with you. Well, at least while he and I are still doing it. You know on the side," she said. "He's still real mad at you for doing him, as he thinks, out of the Crocker account.

I was sitting up now, stunned and utterly disbelieving. "And, you expect me to come home—I mean after everything— and to put up with a deal like that!" I said, my voice rising to Olympian heights.

"But, we can still cuddle and be in love, real love, and I promise to make it right by you. There's a lot we can do without you actually screwing me. You know—oral stuff," she said.

"I'll be sleeping down the hall. Don't bother me. Oh and I will be staying here from now on. The house is mine too. But, you don't have to worry, I promise not touch your skanky ass. Believe it, I would not so much as touch you with a ten foot pole. But, and this is set in stone. Don't ever let me catch that cockbite around this house. If I do, I will crush him like a grape and drink his blood like wine. Got it skank!" I said. She blanched at my calling her a skank.

"Honey, you've got this all wrong. I love you, not him. He's a plaything that's all. Yes, I need what he can do for me in the sex department, but in absolutely every other way you're the king, not him," she said.

"Just make sure that the asshole never comes around here. I really mean it. If he does..." I left the not very subtle threat hanging in the air.

I grabbed my stuff and headed down the hall. I'd be dealing with the two of them on the morrow. 

****** 

"Well, you can't say I didn't warn you. You should've let him screw you. How would Michael have known if you did? Clyde, according to you, is too small to stretch you very much. Michael would have no way of knowing," said Marie.

Yes, he would. I can't lie worth a damn. That's why I had to bare my soul to Clyde, tell him the whole thing. He would have known in a New York minute that I was hiding stuff. I knew it was risky, telling him the straight up truth, even crazy, but there was no other way. That said, I thought that if I did other things for him, good stuff, you know, that I could persuade him, satisfy him. I was, am, going to be super nice to him. I mean super nice," said Bonnie.

"Super nice? You're kidding right? A man who's horny, as horny as I'm sure your husband is, can think of little else but pussy. And you told him he wasn't ever going to get any. You've lost him. I'm telling you that right now," said Marie.

"I still have my hole card. He's not going to go for a divorce because he knows I can rape him there. And, no, I did not threaten him with that again. I know my doing that the last time was maybe what drove him over the edge. But, in his head he'll know it, so I don't think he'll be pushing it. And, he is staying at the house. That puts him close enough for me to entice him with the other things I can do to make him happy, to satisfy him," said Bonnie.

"Girl, you're living in a dream world. I wouldn't doubt that he might just up and leave and not give a damn about anything the courts declare," said Marie. "I mean even if he did tell you he was staying at the house."

"No, I can't let him leave. He's the one that pays the bills and takes care of me. My job at the salon isn't near enough to support these digs. And, Michael would never leave his wife, that Ana woman, for me because of his five kids. So, Clyde has to stay and do his duty," said Bonnie.

"While you refuse to do yours?" said Marie.

"I am going to do my duty. I'm only denying him one thing. Everything else is his for the taking. And, add to that the way I intend to pamper and love him. He'll have no complaints when I'm through with him. Hell, Michael might even have reason to be jealous of him; I mean the way I will be treating him," said Bonnie. 

****** 

I'd been lying on the bed all night hardly even getting up to pee. I was so mad I wasn't sure if I should even be staying here. I was actually half afraid I might get mad enough to do something to my wife. I kept taking deep breaths to calm myself down. Then the door opened.

She didn't say anything. She came to me. She was still dressed in her flannels. I was still naked. She got on the bed and took my penis in her hand and began to wank me off. But it was no use. She couldn't even get me up, not even a little. I was glad.

"Honey, are you all right. Did you, you know...?" she said.

"Masturbate? No. I just don't need or want you anymore. I don't even see you as a woman, just a pig, so go back to your room. We'll co-exist for a while, but we will not be lovers—phony lovers like you want us to be. So just fuck off, skank. I actually hate you," I said.

"Honey, please. Give me a chance. Please," she begged.

"I did and you shot me down. But, oddly, I'm glad you did. "It'll be easier to forget you now, skank. Get the fuck out of here" I said. She did finally get up and leave; she didn't cry, but she was shaking her head. It was as if she couldn't believe that "I" was being so unbending.

After some little time, I began to rationalize my situation. Did I still want to try and save the marriage? I wasn't sure anymore, but on some level, yes, I did. I wouldn't admit it to her; I wanted her to feel some of what she'd made me feel, but I did have some vague hope that the asshole would get his and I'd get her. Looking inside myself, I knew it was time to stop whining and actually do what I said I was going to do. I was going to go to war.

****** 

So, the hunt was on. She had a boyfriend who wasn't worth a damn. One who she claimed was only on the side. Well, two could play that game. And, that is exactly what I intended to do. Bonnie didn't know it yet, but as of last night we had de facto open marriage.

I'd laid down the law about the asshole ever coming into our house, but I had no intention of honoring my own rule. I was going to break it and that flagrantly if I could. I was still looking pretty good for my age. Still a tight five-ten and one-seventy-five. I didn't have a ten inch dick, but I did have a six incher, and that would just have to do. 

******

"Whaddya mean I can't come around the house," said Michael Campanas. His voice was rising. "Of course I'm going to be coming around, and I want him to be sure to be there when I do show up. Got it? He's pussywhipped; he's not going to be denying me and you our fun. And, he's obviously afraid you'll kick him out and screw him over in the divorce. No, I will be coming over. And, you can rest easy; he ain't going anywhere; he's the wimpiest wimp of all time." He began to laugh.

"Michael, Clyde is awfully tough and awfully angry because you told me he couldn't have intercourse with me," said Bonnie. "I've so far honored your words, and he is frankly pussywhipped enough to hate it and accept it at the same time. But push him too far? You coming over is out of the question. He'll kill you and maybe me too in the bargain," she said. "He feels cornered right now, and a cornered husband can be very dangerous; I just know it."

"What? You really think that wimpy would mess with me? Now, I've heard everything. Can't wait to see him try," said Michael.

"Michael you're a fool. You really don't get it. Clyde was a white guy brought up on the south side of Chicago. When he was younger he was in more trouble than you could shake a stick at. Please don't come over, especially not when he's around, but really not anytime. Please!" she said. He just smiled. Michael Campanas had a foolproof plan; he was certain of it.

"Bonnie, Clyde's, what, five-eight? Maybe one-sixty?" said Michael.

"Five-ten, but I don't know how much he weighs, maybe two hundred," she said. She'd be somewhat surprised to later learn that while she was right about how tall I was; she was way off her estimation of my weight: I actually weigh in right at one-seventy-five.

Michael laughed. "He's nowhere near two-hundred; I've seen him. Nevertheless, I'm six-four and weigh in at two-forty, and in spite of what you may think, Bonnie, I ain't no pussy either. I'd tear his ass up if he came at me."

"I don't care, Michael, even if you could; he's my husband, and I don't want him hurt. Got it!" she said. "I need what you do for me but not at the expense of my marriage. I've already made compromises that have endangered it as it is, but no more."

He snickered, but for the moment didn't add anything to what he'd already said. 

******

I was once again sitting in Bud's Bar, but now I had a table. And, now I had a mission: I was hunting for a woman, damn near any woman who wasn't gonna be all that particular about fucking a stranger on short notice, that is without the usual courting dance.

I'd danced a couple of times each with two or three of the regulars, and yes I knew them, but so far hadn't had a whiff of getting lucky. Then, I had a visitor.

"We gotta quit meeting like this," said Marie Bradshaw. "Someone might think I was trying to seduce my best friend's husband."

"Whaddya want, Marie. I moved back; you got your wish. It was a bad move. Just get the hell away from me," I said.

"Oh boy, she didn't exaggerate for damn sure. You are hot under the collar," she said.

"Buy a girl a drink?" she said.

"No."

"Okay, I'll buy you one," she said.

"No. Just leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you," I said.

"You know she's been crying her eyes out ever since you walked out last night," she said.

"Who? The skank?" I said.

"Jesus you are M-A-D!"

"No, just hurt, Marie. Hurt real bad. Now, if you will kindly leave me alone. I want to be alone," I said.




Bonnie and Clyde Armistead



"Okay, but I have some news for you," she said.

"Harrumph!" I muttered.

"She's willing to forget that no intercourse thing she tried to sell you," said Marie. I gave her a look.

"That ain't what she said last night," I said.

"No, but it's what she told me half an hour ago. Anything to get you back," she said.

"Yeah right. Like I believe that," I said.

"It's true. She needs you Clyde, more than anything," she said.

"You said anything to get me back right?" I said.

"Yep," she said.

"Then, tell her that her lover is history. Not so much as a telephone call," I said. Marie gave me a look I couldn't quite figure, but nodded her agreement.

"Okay," she said. "So you will go back?"

"After she tells me she's done with the asshole," I said. Marie nodded and pulled her cell. She walked a few feet off and made the call. She talked for a minute and handed me the phone.

"Hello...

Bonnie talked for two straight minutes, with but little grunts and vocal nods from me the whole time. But, when it was all said and done; she promised to be a one man woman and that I was going to be that man.

"All right Marie," I said, turning to the messenger, "against my better judgment I'm going to trust that this is on the up and up. And, trust me, I'll know right soon if I'm being scammed," I said. And, I would know. Angel Cardoza, a client of mine was also a lieutenant on the force, and had a retired friend—retired from the force—who did investigative work for him from time to time. I would have him on retainer by 9:00AM on the morrow.

This time she greeted me with a hug and a kiss, a kiss on the cheek. This time I was going to call her on her lack of enthusiasm.

"You know, Bonnie, when I came back the last time, I got a hug. This time I got a hug right enough, but also a kiss on the cheek. What's wrong with my lips? I got bad breath or something? If you're playing me..."

"Oh my God no!" she said. She came to me and planted a scorcher on my lips." My look must have cued her that I was very suspicious of her antics.

"I—I—I just, well, I just don't know why I did it that way, kissed you I mean," she said.

"Maybe because you just don't love me that way?" I offered.

"My God, honey, you know better than that," she said. "You are the only person in the world I love. Please never doubt it. Maybe I don't always do things right, but I always mean to. Really." I nodded, but I was more than a little skeptical of her trustworthiness.

"Hmm, do I, Bon? Do I? I mean do I really know better than that? You were willing to cut me off just because your big dick told you to. So, do I believe you? I want to, but I really am not sure," I said.

"Honey, from now on, you can trust me, and I promise to at the very least endanger your lips early and often," she said. I snickered.

"Yeah, well we'll see," I said.

The sex that night was the best in a long time. She was certainly breaking mister Campanas' rules for damn sure.

She'd spun around after our last go 'round and had sucked me back to life. Now she rolled over on her belly and pushed her ass high into the air. "Honey, take my butt," she said. I was semi-exhausted having taken her twice already. But, I wasn't turning her ass down. She'd always denied it to me in the past. It was clear that now she was doing her damnedest to make things right by me. Still, I had to wonder if I as the first one in there or if it had been her asshole, mister big dick.

I grabbed the KY that she'd posted on the night stand at the beginning of the festivities. I lubed her up pretty good. I was hard as a rock just at the thought of doing her back door let alone from her oral ministrations.

I entered her slowly taking care to not hurt her. I went in a little easier than I thought I might; I figured that might be telling. I began screwing her; again, at first slowly and then with increasing gusto. Soon I was ramming her for all I was worth. It took almost ten minutes to squeeze out the last dregs of cum from my shrunken ball sack. I felt her shiver and jerk wildly just as I'd cum: she'd made it too.

I collapsed on top of her and rolled off to the side. I was breathing hard. My unpleasant thoughts returned.

"I'm not the first to get your ass am I? I said.

"Honey, let's not talk about what went on before tonight, okay?" she said. I nodded. I was too tired to argue anyway. But, there would be a time. I wanted answers. 

****** 

And, then it was morning of my third day back and I was about to go pro-active. The man's office was—what—tawdry. But, what the hell, I was there to get some help, and this was the guy that my Angel had recommended.

He saw me appraising the place. "This is just part time for me," said Herman Westbrook, retired PD now a licensed, though but part time, PI. I nodded.

"So, I know Angel filled you in; can you help me?" I said.

"Of course. You want the works or just answers?" he said. I had to think about that one. The works were audio visual and background checks on any and all parties connected to the targets. Answers would just be confirmation one way or another of my suspicions. The former was costly, but probably useful in court, if it ever went that far. The latter just the signal, or not, to cut country and move on.

"The works. I want revenge if I'm being scammed," I said,

"You got it," he said. We talked a little longer, but in the end I left him to do what he did, and I went home. 

****** 

The sex had been varietal and non-stop for all three nights I'd been home. For me it was a case of go to work in the morning, come home, eat; and fuck and suck and role play and those for several hours each night. She was wearing me out. I actually called for a time out on night four.

"Tired of me already, big boy," she said, teasing me.

"Not hardly, just need a breather is all," I said.

"Well if you're not up to the task, I just might have to get you some help," She said, laughing. My look sobered her real quick.

"Oh—Uh—sorry, honey. I was only joking. There'll be no more men. I swear," she said. I nodded, slowly, and let it go—for the moment.

Actually a "moment" turned out to be the next nine days; then I got the call. Mister Westbrook had me meet him at the Gallantry, a small bar and grill downtown. I was glad of the fact that it was close to my office; well, I did have to work for a living.

It was dark, but he was seated at the end of the bar nearest the door, and caught me as soon as I walked in.

He took me by the arm and led me to a booth against the far wall. He'd shushed me up before guiding me there. He pushed a slip of paper to me. It read: they're in the booth right behind you talking it up," said the note.

They were talking quietly. Apparently they hadn't seen us move into the booth right next to theirs. I could barely make out what they were saying.

"You know, Bon, I really really don't like this. If you want my dick it has to be on my terms," said Michael Campanas.

"I just can't do all of what you want. He'll divorce me, and I cannot afford to lose him; and, even if I could afford it, I don't want to," said my soon to be ex-wife.

"Well, all I can say is that you have to find a way," he said. "All of this sneaking around is a pain in the ass. It doesn't work for me. He's a whiny wimp, and he needs to understand his place and accept it."

"What we're doing is what's wrong, Michael, and I'm married to the man, not to you," she said. I heard him snicker.

"Well, let me ask you this. Are we going to get out of here and fuck or not?" he said. "Or are you going to sit there and whine about your whiny little man?"

"Let's go," she said. "I do need it. I'm horny as hell. And, I'm not whining."

I could hear them shuffling, I suppose collecting their stuff, and sliding out of the booth. As soon as they cleared the partition, they saw us, me and Herman.

"Clyde!" said Bonnie. I just smiled.

"So wimpy decided he needed to spy on us," said the asshole. "Well, I can't say as it upsets me all that much.

"Hear you don't want me comin' around the house," he said.

"Well, as to that, you won't be able to, mister Campanas," I said.

"Think not, wimpy?" he said. I just continued to smile. I was praying he'd go for it. I gotten up and out of the booth. There was maybe three feet separating the asshole and myself.

"You two stop it this minute," said Bonnie. Herman was just sitting back and—as I knew he was—getting it all recorded.

"Choose now, Bonnie. Tell him to fuck off and die, and you and I will try to put the pieces back together—or not, if you don't want," I said. She looked at me. She looked at him. She tendered my chauffer a sidelong glance.

"Clyde, let's you and me get out of here. We need to talk," she said.

"Okay, but choose first," I said, not cutting her any slack.

"We both know who she's going to choose, don't we motherfucker," said the asshole.

"No, no, not sure yet, mister Campanas; but we will both know in a second. It'll either be a jerkoff like you or her legitimate husband. Right honey?" I said.

"Clyde! Michael! That's enough!" Bonnie almost screamed.

"Choose," I said. "It's your last chance." She looked away.

"Okay, then, I guess that's it. The asshole wins. I'll have my lawyer working on things by high noon tomorrow," I said.

"Hey, wimpy, did you just call me an asshole?" said the asshole.

"Well, let me think. Uh—yes—I believe I did," I said.

He connected with his first shot. But it was a little high on the side of my head. He forced me to spin away and recover, but he hadn't hurt me to any significant degree. The really bad news for him was that he'd knocked me out of his range for a follow up. I set myself to do him hurt.

As soon as he moved in for what I'm sure he thought would be the kill, I moved slightly away to his left and drove into him with everything I had. I landed maybe a dozen right-left combos that he futilely tried to block. He was staggering and muttering obscenities—some of the latter of which were actually new to me.

He came at me bleeding from the nose, eyebrows, and mouth. A kick with my steel-toed boot to his knee cap elicited a chortling scream causing him to spit blood everywhere as he went down. A second kick to his face as he tried to rise, laid him out. I stomped down on his knee just as Herman rose to drag me away from him.

Bonnie was stunned, speechless, and terrified.

He's all yours now baby. Have a nice life.

"Clyde..."

"Too late, Bonnie, you had your chance; and you shined it on. Now you get to have the leftovers," I said.

"Clyde, we gotta go before the cops come," said Herman.

The cops did come, and they found me a couple of hours later sitting in the Bud's Bar, which had kinda become my home away from home: it was only couple of miles from the scene of the previous set-to. They cuffed me and took me in. Herman'd told me to expect that, and made me promise to make my one call to him; he'd take care of the rest.

I was arraigned the next day, and Herman was there with Jess Hardesty, lawyer extraordinaire, so Herman assured me.

"I was able to get us a short date," said mister Hardesty. "But Clyde, you really did a number on the guy. You might be going to do some time." My heart sank.

"For sure?" I said.

"'Fraid so," he said. "If you just hadn't stomped his ass while he was down. The law is clear: you are allowed to defend yourself, but gratuitous vengeance is a very big no-no."

"How much time," I said. I was really concerned now.

"Maybe a year considering the circumstances, but it could be as many as ten. Unlikely, but remotely possible. Depends on the judge," he said. 

****** 

The gavel sounded. Bonnie screamed. I fell into the chair at my counsel's table. It was to be three to five at state. Judge Wilkins was a zero tolerance dude. Mister Campanas? Time served, three days. Turns out his one punch, even though it was the first punch, wasn't considered to be all that big a deal for judge Wilkins.

I was put in chains and led out. Mister Campanas was there to see me off. So was my wife. Oh, and yes, she was seated beside him in the gallery. My hatred knew no bounds. The good news? He was limping when he came up to the bar to sneer at me.

"Your wife and I will miss you, cuckold," he said. I forced myself to smile.

"I'll be getting out one day. We'll meet again," I said, as the marshall began to urge me out of the court room. Mister Campanas did seem to lose some of his composure at my words, but that might have been wishful thinking on my part.

Bonnie did not visit me in county before they sent me up state. I figured Campanas' hand in that one. But, two months into my sentence at the big house she did.

I wasn't cuffed or shackled when they let me in to see her; well, it was a public room.

"Oh my God, Clyde. What has Happened to us!" were her first words to me. They did seem appropriate. We took seats opposite each other at the little fixed-to-the-floor steel table with matching stools.

"What happened to us? Mister Campanas happened to us," I said. She ignored my words.

"Clyde, why did you have to hurt him so bad? He never did anything to you. He's an okay guy. He was just mad because you hurt his business. I know you didn't mean to, but you did, and he's had a hard time getting over it is all," she said.

"Hurt him? He hit me first. I had been about to let him slide, but them he threw on me. Then, well, all of the stuff you and him were doing to me, cuckolding me, came back to me; and I had to do him up. Will again too if I ever see him again. You can tell him that," I said.

"Clyde, you have to forget him. He's nothing to us. He's not between us.

"You know he has to use a cane now most of the time," she said.

"Hmm, yes, I should have gone after his nuts. Then, you probably wouldn't still be with him. You are still with him, right?" I said. She couldn't look me in the eyes.

"That's what I thought," I said. She looked up at me now.

"Someone has to help me make the house payments and everything, Clyde. And, he's willing to do that," she said.

"Yeah, well, when I get out; I'll be paying him back," I said. I was smiling when I said it. My sarcasm was not lost on her.

"Clyde, stop it. You've got to stop thinking that way. This violence has got to stop. I know you're a tough guy. If fact I told him that before everything," she said. "But—he thought he could win because he's so much bigger than you. I told him Clyde, I did. He just didn't understand.

"But, Clyde, it's you I love not him. When you get out, I will break it off with him. I just need him for the bills right now. You understand, dontcha, Clyde?"

"You know that makes you a prostitute, don't you, Bonnie. You're fucking him, and he's paying for it with money. You're a whore for money Bonnie."

"Clyde! Stop that. I am not a whore. Yes, I get sex on the side from him, but he has never had my heart. Only you get that—ever!" she said. She said it with so much emphasis that I was almost forced to believe her. "And, it pisses him off too, if you want to know," she added.

"I don't care one way or the other, Bonnie, when I get out I'm coming after him. Don't be with him. I don't want you to be collateral damage. I mean it, Bonnie. Don't be with him. He was upset over something that I didn't do? He's gonna finally have reason to be upset," I said. "Oh yeah, he's going to have real good reason for damn sure."

"Clyde you're scaring me," she said. I just stared at her with what I was sure were what amounted to dead eyes.

"No need for you to be scared. I'm not coming after you. You're just too stupid to realize what you've done and are continuing to do. Your hormones or whatever are ruling you. But him? Oh yeah, he's got reason to be scared," I said. "Just don't you be around him; just don't be." She actually shivered.

I stood, turned my back on her, and walked out. No goodbye, no hug—and they did allow it—no nuthin'; I just walked out. She didn't say anything either.

It would be a year before I got another visitor. And no, it was not someone I knew. But, it was someone I should've known. It was Ana Campanas.

"You look different than I'd imagined," she said.

"So you're the asshole's wife," I said. I had no way to know what she wanted, and she was married to the fuckwad asshole that had been the cause of my current predicament; ergo, not a friend—unless.

"Yes, yes I am," she said. "I just found out about you two days ago, and my husband's dalliances with your wife of course. Caught 'em in the act. He'll be served divorce papers tomorrow. At his office, divorce papers among other things."

"Interesting. Wish I could be there to see it go down' I said.

"Yes, I would imagine," she said. "I'm a lawyer, mister Armistead. I'm going to cook his goose. You wanna help me?" I gave her a look that caused her to give me a look.

"It's not rocket science, mister Armistead. It might help your own divorce if you decide to go for one when you get out," she said.

"Yeah, well that might be a while," I said.

"Help me, and I might be able to help you," she said. Now, she had my attention.

"Okay," I said.

Turned out that missus Campanas was not only a lawyer, but an adjunct judge. Had to wonder how her errant husband figured to get away with playing around on her. But then, maybe it was the very fact that she was a judge made it easier for him. She was too damn busy for him, so he looked elsewhere and had no trouble justifying himself doing so in the process.

"How would you like to leave this den of iniquity," she said. And she said it with a straight face. I chortled but tried to stifle it at the same time: tough to do. She just smiled.

"You can't get me out missus Campanas. I messed up your hubby pretty good and the judge threw the book at me," I said.

"The lieutenant Governor is my cousin. You leave getting you out to me," she said. I shrugged my willingness to follow her lead, like I had a choice.

"Okay," I said. 

****** 

"Mister Armistead, come with me please," said the screw.

"Yes, sir," I said. He gave me a look. I just looked down: one learned to do that in the joint. Piss off a guard and bad things happened.

He didn't take me where I expected to go. He took me to Inception. "Put these on," he said, they were my own clothes. "Then, follow mister Stagg. You're being processed out of here," he said.

"Out?" I said. "You mean..."

"You evidently have friends, mister Armistead. Yes, out. We'll miss you he said," but he was smiling. I just nodded.

It had to be missus Campanas; she'd just seen me but a week past. I couldn't believe it. I guess influence is what influence is: lesson learned.

There was a car waiting outside the gate. It pulled up alongside me as I made my way across the parking lot toward the bus stop.

"Get in, mister Armistead," said missus Campanas. My smile was as big as all outdoors. 

******

"How are we doing mister Armistead," she said, as we drove out of the lot and away from state prison. She was smiling too.

"Is that a serious question? I feel wonderful!" I said, answering her question.

"Well, good. And, I am sure you do, feel good that is.

"I won't be taking you home right away. My husband, your worst enemy by all accounts, is there. He's been overnighting for the past few days; he believes I'm on one of my business trips. I'm a lawyer as I mentioned before. I do mostly corporate work, and of course that involves a deal of travel," she said.

"Okay, well, if I'm not going home, where are you taking me?" I said.

"To my place. He won't be there till I'm due back, so you will be taking his place for the duration," she said. For the first time I took the time to appraise mister Campanas' wife. She was a looker for sure. Long dark hair, maybe 34Bs, tallish at maybe five-seven, slim, pretty face: it was a mystery to me why the asshole would feel the need to chase after other men's wives. Of course in my case it may really have been a matter of revenge for my supposed intervention in his business affairs. 




Bonnie and Clyde Armistead



"Ana, I really should just go home. I need to put an end to either my marriage or to the affair. Ideally, I'd like you to be there, you know, kinda acting as my lawyer and as a witness to anything that might go down—and for yourself too if it comes to that. I do not want to go back inside—not ever," I said.

"You sure?" she said.

"Yes," I said. She nodded, slowly, but she nodded.

"Okay, then, let's do it." We were hammer down until we were within blocks of the house, my house.

We didn't exactly creep into the house, but we did go slow and easy, not talking at all. It was late afternoon. They were in the kitchen jabbering. I signaled Ana to keep it on the quiet and to follow me.

We slipped into the den to the left of the kitchen and gave a listen. Ana surprised me, she pulled out a small pocket recorder and clicked it on. Whatever they said, we were not only going be privy to it; we were going to have a record of it.

"Bonnie, he's going to be inside that place for several more years minimum. You need to divorce him; then, I need to divorce the ice princess; and then we can get married. You know you want to, and I know you want to," said Michael Campanas.

"Divorce him while he's inside? Kinda cold even for us, dontcha think," said Bonnie.

"Actually, it's the more merciful thing to do. He hates me, and probably you too now. It might sting him a little in the beginning, a divorce, but in the end he'd be free, and probably relieved. He could never satisfy you now, girl, you've had the real thing. You know it and I know it. Let's cut the crap and get it done," he said. He began to laugh. 

"What's so funny," said Bonnie.

"I could even get my wife to do your divorce on the cheap. Wouldn't that be a kick," he said.

"Yes, and what are you going to do when she finds out you're divorcing her! My bet is that she would end up in the hospital needing surgery to extract her foot from your ass," said Bonnie.

"No problem there, I have it all set up. She's gonna get caught with a shit load of middle-weight crack. This is a zero tolerance state. She'll lose her license and do maybe five to ten in the bargain," he said. "Hell, I'll get it all in the divorce.

"Are you insane!" said Bonnie. "I won't be a party to doing something like that to another person."

"You already are. If you hadn't testified against your man, he wouldn't have gotten such a tough sentence," said Michael.

"I told the truth, but I did not try to have my husband put in prison, and as for that I deserve to be there, and so do you, as much as he ever did," said Bonnie.

I motioned Ana to follow me. I sat her down there in the den, and went to the mini-bar and poured us each a drink. I sat down across from her and raised my glass in toast. Of course it was a silent toast. I wanted the two mating birds to find us and maybe have heart attacks in the doing.

I did have to say I was feeling a little better—not much—but a little better about Bonnie than I had originally. Yeah, she was still hung up on super dick, but not buying into his twisted sense of social relationships and conspiracies.

Ana was smiling broadly. She figured out my ploy and was really getting into it. And then it happened.

The scream made the both of us jump. "Clyde!"

I raised my glass to her. "Yep it's me. Aren't you glad to see me?" I said, false sincerity all but dripping from my tongue.

"Uh—yes, of course—but how?" she muttered. Just then mister Campanas made his entrance, no doubt wondering at the scream.

"Ana!" he gasped. Ana decided to mimic me.

"Yep it's me. Aren't you glad to see me, Michael?" she said. He was speechless.

"How much..." started Bonnie.

"How much did we hear?" I said, nodding toward Ana. "Pretty much all of it. You know, him trying to get you to conspire with him to set up his wife here. If I may, you should join our side and testify against the asshole; you'd get a "stay out of jail free card" for the doing." I looked at Ana for confirmation, she nodded her agreement. "See."

"Of course you'd have to give up his big dick. You know the one you've sacrificed so much to keep around," I said.

"Shut the fuck up, butthead," he said, indicating that he was referring to me. "Your wife's on my side. You ain't got what it takes to keep a quality woman like this around.

"You sucker punched me last time, asswipe, this time you won't be so lucky," he said. I could feel my face cloud up. 

"What did you say, mister, Campanas?" I sensed that my words shook him. He snarled at me, but made no move to approach me. I stayed seated.

"You men stop that stupid posturing right this minute!" said Bonnie, asserting herself.

I waited. He didn't respond. I just kept staring at him.

"Anyway, Mikey, fancy meeting you here. I mean in another woman's house," said Ana breaking into the conversation.

"I'm glad you're here," he said. I guess he knew he was toast, so he was opting for bravado in defense of the indefensible.

"Yes, I'm sure you are. But, now you will have to come up with a different plan to set me up. I mean since I now know about your plan to ambush me," she said. "I mean now that I know I will be coming after you with a stick—figuratively speaking of course."

"Honey, can we talk?" said Bonnie, looking at me. Looking at her I had to think her expression was forlorn. 

"Sure we're going to need to if you agree to help us fuck over this motherfucker," I said, nodding in the direction of mister ten-inch. She began to fidget. For his part he was looking at her with questioning eyes. Questioning, evidently, because she hadn't told me to forget it.

"Bonnie?" queried mister toad.

"I'm sorry, Michael, but I will have to tell the truth. You might want to leave now and get yourself a lawyer," said Bonnie. "I won't exaggerate or try to help them hurt you, but I simply will not lie," said Bonnie.

"But..."

"There have been enough lies, Michael. There will be no more, not from me," she said. I was smiling very broadly. And, so was Ana: she had him by the short hairs and it had to be very uncomfortable for him. I did not miss the look I received from Bonnie.

****** 

"So whaddya think," said Ana, as we drove off.

"Me? I don't know. We surprised them. Hell, Bonnie surprised me," I said. Ana gave me a look.

"Yes, she kinda did me too. I think she still loves you. More, I think she may have fallen out of love, lust, whatever with my asshole," she said.

"He did kinda bite it today didn't he. Have to figure some of what he said was mere face saving bravado. I mean you catching him like that left him kinda without any place to go. If you know what I mean," I said.

"As to that I intend to serve him with papers by the end of the week. He'll be able to find a place in hell then. They, the papers, are already drawn up. I just have to put the final touches on them and then it's au revoir asshole," she said. "His cock is primo, but not that primo. But, as to that, I guess your wife thought it was."

"Yeah, she did," I said. "More, she was willing to cut me off to please him in order to keep his king sized appendage. I'm still having trouble getting past that."

"Hmm, I can imagine," she said. 

****** 

I was sitting with her when she and her asshole had their day in court. She raped him economically and was granted full custody of the children; and with three of us, yes the three of us, testifying, he barely escaped doing jail time for the almost attempted plot to screw over Ana. It was a good day and that even for me.

I saw Bonnie glance my way as we exited the courtroom. It was clear to me that she wanted to talk. I did too, but I wasn't going to make the first move; she'd have to be the one to do that. She didn't make it, so we went our separate ways. Ana and I to celebrate, and her to wherever. The asshole probably had reservations in the sixth pit of the devil's nether mansion; well, one could hope. 

****** 

I woke up sighing. I'd been doing a lot of that anymore. I had kinda thought that my woman, well, she who used to be my woman, might have wanted to try and get back together with me, but maybe not. 

It had been two weeks since Ana's courtroom victory dance over the defeated and prostrate body, figuratively, of her now ex-husband, Michael Campanas. She'd gotten everything but his jock strap and that she hadn't wanted or she'd have gotten it too.

I rolled out of bed and into the shower, which was followed by me throwing a robe over my naked body and heading into the miniature kitchen of the apartment unit I had most recently been calling home. And then there was a knock on the door. Seven freakin' o'clock in the morning, and someone was knocking on my door. If it was the JWs I was not figurin' on bein' pleasant.

Opening the door I got the surprise of my life. "Bonnie!" She looked fantastic. Fantastic enough to cause an unusually rapid swelling of my less than threatening manhood; and well, I was naked under my robe. It was embarrassing. She noticed it and she smiled; but she did not take the shot that she easily could have.

"Yes, it's me," she said. "Can I come in; it's cold out here?"

"Uh—yeah—sure, I guess so," I said. Well she was very pretty and she'd caught me by surprise. I stood back to let her enter. I got control of my wits. "What do you want Bonnie? To what do I owe this obscenely early visit to my humble dwelling?" She sighed.

"I couldn't sleep last night, and you darn well know why, and so I decided to come here and share my fatigued and frustrated state with you," she said. "Besides I was of the opinion—the hope—that you needed me."

I stared at her for a full minute. "You say that I know why you were sleepless last night. Fact is I'm not sure I do. So why don't you clear up my—what—confusion," I said.

"Because I love you and miss you, dummy!" she said. I guess I looked dubious.

"Really," I said. "I mean Michael may be history, but your need for large cocks?" I said.

"Also, history. Oh, I still want and need good sex which you will have to be seeing to now. But, as for the other—no more. And, to clarify some more. I need what you bring to the table even more than I originally thought. It's all I think about these days, Clyde. The safety, the security, the kindness, the gentleness of your soul. I can't live without them, Clyde. And, I mean I can't live without them and the author of them. Please come home to me you beautiful man and protect and love me like you used to. Please!" she said.

"Bonnie, you can believe that I want to come home to you. You can believe that I want to believe you But..." 

"Clyde, you have to give me—us—this chance. Yes, I know we've been here before, but not like this, not like this, really."

"And what if he comes back, makes another play for you?" I said.

"In that event I will need surgery to have my foot removed from his ass. He is really and truly history, Clyde." I nodded.

"Okay, Bonnie, maybe. But, I will be talking to my lawyer before I commit to renewing us," I said. Her turn to nod.

"Okay, Clyde, anything you say so long as it brings us back together. 

****** 

My call to Ana Campanas was lengthy. Our meeting at Giordonos B&G later the same day was even lengthier. I spent most of our time together listening, nodding, and repeating my new mantra "yes ma'am" to everything she suggested.

"Clyde, I know the man. He shitting his pants right now because he's afraid I might cut him off from his children—and I still might. Nonetheless, even with such being true, he's a very weak man; and he will mostly likely sin again, and that with your wife. He'll try at any rate. Whether she can withstand his almost indefensibly powerful assault on her sexual being is more than iffy. So, she signs the post-nup or you don't commit, not even," said Ana.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. She smiled. 

****** 

She did sign and that without hesitation; she kinda surprised me. And, just like that we were back together. And, then, about a year after the events hitherto described, the dust had settled; and, just as Ana had predicted, Michael Campanas was back on the campaign trail. His campaign? Why to get Bonnie—and me if you can believe it—on board with some threesome fun and games, as he described them to me—yes me.

The weird thing was that this time around he did not seem to care about the Crocker account that he had blamed the losing of on me. No, nor was he trying to get Bonnie to cut me off or in any way trying to come between us. He just wanted in on the action if that's the right way to say it.

And, what was even weirder, he came to me about it, as I said, first, not my wife. Though intrigued by his unbelievably brash approach, I sent him off with his tail between his legs. Should've been the end of things with him, right? No, not with Michael Campanas. No sir. He accosted my wife next, and that at a time I should have been nowhere to be found. "Should have been," being the operative term. I was around, just around the corner in fact. Around the corner and downstairs in the basement actually. I heard it all when she answered the door.

"Michael! What are you doing here! Get away from me. I never want to see you again," she said.

"Now is that anyway to welcome an old friend come to visit," he said.

"Michael you and I are through. There is nothing left. You damn near cost me my marriage, and yes, I admit that it was every bit as much my fault as yours; but I'm not risking that again for you or anyone else. Got it? I do not intend to have you come and finish the job!" she said.

"You know I went and talked to Clyde before coming here today, don't you?" he said.

"Yes, and Clyde told me he sent you home with an unequivocal forget it, or did I get that part wrong," she said.

"Well, sort of. He almost seemed like he might want to try it, but just not with me maybe. I'm not sure," said Michael.

"Listen up, Michael, Clyde is a one woman man and will tolerate none but a one man woman. So just don't come around anymore. I mean it. And you better get outta here. Clyde's due back, if he sees you on this doorstep he'll kick your ass from here to Mexico, and I am not kidding," she said.

"Look, Bonnie, I love your pussy and you love my cock. We're made for each other, at least on a part time basis. 

"Tell you what, meet me at the starlight tomorrow morning, you know after Clyde goes to work. He'll never know; hence he will never be hurt. Best of all possible worlds, right?" he said.

"Listen, asshole, for the last time. I've got a husband who loves me. And, though he doesn't know it yet, he's got a son on the way who is going to love the both of us. And, more than anything, I gonna be loving the both of them. So, in the words of the great William Shakespeare—fuck off!"

He did fuck off, and he made a play to come back to his wife, Ana. And, in spite of his willingness to conspire to get her out of the way and into prison, she's actually considering it. She and I are going to have a talk; it's gonna be my turn to be advising her.

And, yes fans, we did live happily ever after. 



Bonnie & Clyde at Starbuck's in SoHo



We had coordinated our watches while IM’ing each other in the morning. Or we had agreed to both set our watches precisely to the clock on New York One. I told you that seconds would count and you had to get a new digital watch with stop function for $12 on Canal Street just for the purpose of our encounter. When I first saw the watch on your wrist, it felt as if you were tied to me or us through the black strap on your wrist. We had entered the café five minutes apart to make things even less conspicuous than they already were. Because we were on a strict timetable, the pressure to fulfill all the assigned tasks according to schedule added to the thrill of doing something sexual and forbidden almost in plain view of the public. 

I felt for the little camera in the inside pocket of my leather jacket. It was around ten o’clock on a rainy Thursday. Most of the tables weren’t taken, probably because people in SoHo didn’t wake up before noon if they didn’t have to be at work. The Starbucks on the corner of Spring Street was busy with people rushing in on their way to work, but very few of them lingered and had time to make themselves comfortable at one of the tables. It was a stretch for both of us to fit the realization of our plan in our busy schedules. We both had to travel from far away and would only have a relatively short time for what felt like a well planned bankrobbery. Until the last minute, I was doubtful whether the subways would cooperate or whether something unexpected like an “out of order”-sign would throw everything off. I was still doubtful whether one or both of us would actually come –“come” as in “coming” or “cuming”-  because it is hard to reach an orgasm quickly … on demand … and (almost) in public. But the whole perversity made our plan worth it and I was sure that both of us had come often and hard while fantasizing about our plan and that today’s “job” (still thinking in terms of the Bonnie & Clyde metaphor) would be the beginning of a string of other, similarly arousing encounters. 

You didn’t seem nervous at all when you walked into the Starbuck’s, almost to the second on time, your hair a little wet from the drizzle outside. I imagined that the wet curls of your pubic hair might be as moist as your hair. You seemed as composed as when you were presiding over the conversation with your brother and his girlfriend in the “Red Rail”. I looked at the black girls behind the cash register and the coffee bar to check whether they had picked anything up. But how should anybody guess that we knew each other? I had the Times on my lap. I was still on the first page, because I hadn’t been able to concentrate on the subway ride into the city. I thought about your subway story … the fact that we both came from Brooklyn on the subway on the same morning … me covering my erection in the subway with the Times on my lap that very morning. That very second I knew that I already had a plan for another encounter which would follow if our Starbuck’s plans succeeded. 

I regretted that I hadn’t paid attention for a second. You had already paid for a coffee or tea, did it really matter? I had gotten the cheapest herbal tea, appropriately named “Passion”, and I wasn’t planning to finish my cup. You looked for a seat. You started to appear nervous. Nobody noticed, but I did. I liked it. Maybe you doubted whether we should go along. Maybe you were anxious. I imagined how fast your heart was beating. I liked it. I checked my watch. You sat down. It didn’t matter where. From now on you had only three minutes to get up. From my seat near the window I could watch both the only entrance to the Starbuck’s and the hallway leading to the phones and the restrooms. We had agreed not even to look at each other, in case anybody would notice that. We just looked around, taking it all in, studying the faces of the other people, who were completely clueless that both of us would be moaning, screaming and getting off in a couple of minutes.

My stop watch showed 3:04. You got up, again a little too hasty, a little too fast. You walked up to the coffee bar. The black girl shot you a glance. You reached for the key with the wooden panel attached to it. She lowered her eyes. You took the key out of the basket. The white paper cup on the table were you had sat was still steaming. I looked at your ass while you were walking along the bar and then disappearing in the hallway leading to the two restrooms. I didn’t know which one you would use. I would knock four times, two times long, two times short. In exactly three minutes. That was the time you had to take your pocket vibrator out and get completely naked. 

We had agreed not to speak at all. We would only speak in an emergency, if we were caught and had to make quick arrangements. The only exception was talking dirty, as in “Take your dick out!”, “Show me your prick!”, “Spread your cuntlips for me, slut!” We both hoped that we would get off, but our plan was primarily about the job which had to be done. I reached again for the small camera. 36 shots of highly sensitive 800 ASA film. How long would it take us to snap all these shots?

Time was up. I  stood up, followed you, without looking at anybody. I wasn’t nervous. I had been in similar situations in the past, although not in the last year, because school didn’t allow for it. I decided to try the second door first. I had checked out the bathrooms before and they were both large. I was sure that they were still clean, because it was early in the morning. I thought of your naked body and my cock stiffened inside my jeans. I wasn’t anxious at all. I enjoyed what we were doing and I was proud that we had the guts. I knocked, the door opened and I pushed in quickly. Everything happened so quickly that somebody would have had to walk two steps behind me in order to realize what went on. The black girls behind the cash register didn’t notice, didn’t give a damn or thought I went to make a phone call. They would probably giggle if they would know that you were waiting completely naked right behind that door. 

You were hiding behind the door and you were trying to cover your crotch and your breast with your hands. I pulled both of your arms behind your back. You instantly reached for my cock. I slapped your ass. We had agreed on a plan in which order we would shoot the pictures. It had to be clear that we were in a public bathroom, preferably a Starbuck’s bathroom, as if this could happen anywhere, any time. As if each woman and each man heading for the Starbuck’s bathroom could be walking into their private orgy room. 

I pushed you against the sink in front of the mirror, grabbed one of your legs and put it up on the sink. You had to lean against the wall not to lose your balance. I looked through the viewfinder. You were unsure were to put your arms. I saw part of myself in the mirror over the sink. 

“Bitch, spread your cuntlips for me!”

You hesitated. I took your hand. Your fingers were cold and your pussy lips seemed glued together. I took the bottle of lube out of my jacket, put a couple of drops on my finger and reached for your clit. You moaned and your posture softened. I took a step back. You sighed with rebellion. I aimed the camera lens at you.

“Spread your cuntlips!”

You complied. The shutter rattled.

“Wider!” 

Click-click.

“Squeeze your nipple with the other hand!”

You didn’t know where to look.

“Look right at me!”

Your moved slowly.

“Rub your clit … and smile!”

I heard steps on the hallway. I knew that the door was locked. You didn’t even notice the noise outside. Your face was on fire. 

“Employees must wash hands”. I wanted to have the sign in some of the pictures. Too bad that there wasn’t one Starbuck’s logo to be found in the whole bathroom. I pushed you under the sign. This time you were clever enough to place your foot on the silver aluminum reeling for the disabled. I threw you the little pocket vibrator which had been balancing idle on the edge of the sink. I cursed. The damned thing was so small that it wouldn’t show on the pictures. It let out a whimpishly humming sound. You placed it near your clit. I snapped three pictures. I looked at my stop watch. We had been in this bathroom together for ten minutes and you had gotten the key thirteen minutes ago. When would the black girls notice that the big key wasn’t in the basket anymore? 

I pointed towards the toilet bowl. You sat down. I pushed your knees apart, as wide as possible and handed you the vibrator. I opened my fly, took out my dick and rammed it into your eager mouth. I jerked back your head by your hair. There were less than a dozen shots left on the roll.

“Now listen, Bitch. I want one with you just licking the tip of my dick. One with you kissing it gently. One with you sucking it and another one with you taking it all in. And don’t forget to look at me while you do it!”

I don’t know how close you were, whether you could come or whether you were paralyzed by anxiety. The longer we stayed in the bathroom, the higher the risk of somebody banging against the door and discovering us. I snapped the pictures. You jerked on my cock, furiously. I hoped that it was good for you, too. I tried to see whether the vibrator was still circling your clit. I felt my juices welling up in me and thought that you wouldn’t jerk me off with so much determination if you weren’t willing. I didn’t want to come over your face or body because I was thinking about the clean up which would prolong the time you would have to spend in the bathroom. You didn’t want other people to smell my cum on you later in the subway or at work. You still worked my cock. Now it was me who was on fire. Why should I ruin my orgasm by worrying about things which might not even be problems for you? We would talk about our encounter by e-mail, about every aspect of it and I trusted that we would be able to straighten it out in case there were any misunderstandings. You had me at the point where I just wanted to come. I couldn’t stop it anymore. A whole double-decker busload of SoHo tourists could have watched and I still would have just liked to explode. 

You started grunting with the vibrations of your voice going straight into my cock. Did you know how close I was? Did you want me to come? What did you want? 

I already pictured myself quickly leaving the bathroom, walking down the hallway, crossing the whole length of the café, not looking at the girls behind the counter, opening the door casually and then quickly ducking into the pedestrian traffic on the rainy sidewalk. It was like an out of body experience. I looked on your hand pumping my cock. Our eyes met. Had you been studying my face the whole time. I knew that I couldn’t hold back any longer. I thought about what I would write you and how I would describe my experience as soon as I reached my computer terminal at school. Part of our plan was a feedback e-mail as soon as we got to work or school, when the experience would still be raw and fresh. 

I felt the first wave of my climax exploding in my dickhead, traveling down the shaft of my cock and hitting my spine like lightning. I looked down at you and waited for the first spurt of my cum to shoot out. I wanted to scream. You smiled.

*****

Appreciative of all kind of feedback, especially from women and couples in the NYC area



Bonnie and Jeff



"She's here," Jeff thought excitedly as his electric wheelchair wove its way amidst the dingy, cluttered tables. 

Being raised a Southern gentleman he placed his black velvet cowboy hat on his lap as a show of respect. With trembling fingers, he brushed his chocolate brown hair to the side. He thought he saw her sneak a look at him, a furtive glance out of the corner of her eyes as she took her place behind the front counter. 

"I love the way she looks in that peach mini-dress uniform with a number two pencil stuck behind her left ear," he told himself, gazing at her with covetous brown eyes. 

"Hi Jeff, what can I get you today?" Bonnie poised her pencil over the order pad. Her wide, toothy smile implied that she was glad to see him. 

Peering out from behind his menu, Jeff made a lame joke. 

"For the life of me, I can't find you anywhere on the menu. Where's management?" 

She giggled flirtatiously. 

"Seriously, what will you have?" 

"Just give me the Salisbury Steak covered in brown gravy, a side of the creamy mash potatoes, and a dinner roll. That's it." Jeff paused. "On second thought, add your phone number." 

I thought you'd never ask," Bonnie declared. "Not that I expect you'll call, but…" 

She wrote her phone number on the cheap napkin and handed it to him. He folded the napkin in quarters and tucked the number in his right breast pocket. 

"I will call. What time do you leave here?" 

"My shift ends at three," Bonnie said, offering a brilliant smile with a wink of one of her shimmering Maya blue eyes. 

His heart thumped like a jackhammer when she looked at him like that.