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Just Say Yes

By: Dinsmore



Edited by Red Martha.

In "Joanne's Metamorphosis" my male protagonist was a successful writer of country music; I've only borrowed a sliver or two from that story theme. My musical tastes are eclectic; I enjoy classical, jazz, blues, classic rock, alternative rock and country---pretty much anything other than gangsta' rap. My son reintroduced me to country several years ago; from Patsy and Hank to Toby and Brad; I love the stories and the tunes. 

Those who follow modern country will note that I've slipped a country lyric or song title in here and there just for fun. George's foray into the small audience, intimate, jazz-blues-rock genre was inspired by the John Mayer trio. I grew up in an era in which good live music was widely available and inexpensive; no matter how much you spend on audio equipment, it impossible to reproduce that live sound and feeling.

I will never forget the first time my ex-wife and I took our then six year old daughter to a honky-tonk with a decent steak and a fine house band for her first exposure to live music. When she felt rather than simply heard that opening draw of the fiddler's bow at the beginning of the Alabama classic, "Mountain Music", she looked at me with huge eyes as her shock quickly turned into a grin from ear to ear and she was hooked for life on live music regardless of the genre.

As Bonnie soaked up the sun's rays next to her parents' pool she knew she had to decide quickly what to do with her summer vacation. She despised this nouveau riche town and everything it stood for. Her parents were totally caught up in all of the social bullshit that was the hallmark of this little strip of land a bridge away from Florida's southeastern coast. Her parents had money...lots of money. They hadn't earned any of it; her grandfather had handled that nasty deed. She had money in her own right, again thanks to her recently departed grandparents. She would never have to work nor worry about marrying a man to take care of her.

She had been a debutante a few years earlier and had endured the traditional coming-out party. She was a strikingly beautiful young woman; she was fashionably tall and thin but with bumps and curves in all of the right places. She owed it all to good genes, not medical enhancement. Men wanted to fuck her and more than few had. She liked to fuck; most of the boys she had grown up with would rather drink and play backgammon or golf. By the time they got naked they were often pitiful as sexual partners. The boys and men she had fucked at college were different. 

She could afford to be very picky; she eschewed the preppie assholes who dominated the campus. She liked her men decidedly more macho and manly, at least when it came to a fuck. She'd date and fuck them for a few weeks until the poor jerks believed there was a future; then she'd dump them and move on. Men had cocks and she liked cocks. Past that, they weren't of much value. She couldn't imagine herself ever being married; it would certainly not be to one of the poor little rich boys in this town who would end up working for their fathers and go to their graves still living off the family money.

She had to be honest with herself; she had once enjoyed this world. College had changed her. She had not been turned into some sort of left wing Moonbat at the exclusive New England university at which she matriculated but her view of the world had changed dramatically. There was more to life than this pseudo-crap; she was determined to find it.

She could just see the neighbor's expansive yard from the raised pool deck. The house in question actually fronted on the Atlantic. She knew it had been vacant for a number of years. She remembered that more than a decade earlier it had been a high end seasonal rental. She had played with the children who lived there until her parents found out they were just the caretaker's children and forbade her to have future contact with them. She'd even had a minor crush on the older boy but could no longer remember his name. He had been the first boy she had ever kissed. It had been quick and furtive but she remembered it fondly even if she could remember little else. 

She had been told that the house had been tied up in an estate conflict for many years. Evidently it had deteriorated without regular occupancy. Her mother, who knew something about real estate values in this area, had said the structure and grounds were priced way above what was reasonable even for this town. 

She had noted when she had arrived home from college that numerous workmen were coming and going next door. Someone had bought the rambling old Spanish villa and was fixing it up. She remembered the exquisite hand laid stone wall which surrounded the yard. It had fallen into disrepair over the years. The object of her interest was less the stone wall itself than the muscular young laborer painstakingly repairing it. As she watched him work she was astounded at how carefully he was fitting and placing each stone. He was certainly an artisan more than a common laborer but at the pace he was working his task would take months.

She moved to the edge of the pool deck to watch him. He was tall, certainly over six feet. His well-defined chest, strong shoulders and powerful arms were alluringly displayed as he worked shirtless in the hot south Florida sun. He was a blond with strong, rugged features. He looked up and met her gaze; he smiled and waved. She waved back as the moisture began to build under the thin material of her thong bathing suit. She was horny; she hadn't gotten laid since she had come home two weeks previously. It might just be time to change that. 

It was late in the day and the other contractor's trucks had departed. Her parent's pool deck was the only vantage point from which one could see into the yard next door. The house staff had gone home for the day and her parents were at the club and wouldn't be home for hours. She loved fucking outside during daylight. She poured a large glass of fresh lemonade. Opening the gate she made her way toward the worker next door, entering the yard through a break in the once elegant stone wall.

"Hi! You look like you could use a cold drink!" Bonnie said, ratcheting up into full blown seduction mode. She didn't really have to try that hard; she was a very pretty and well-appointed women and she had yet to meet a straight man that didn't want---need---to fuck her.

As Bonnie came close to the muscular young worker she realized that the view was even better up close. He was hot and unquestionably very masculine. He was exactly the kind of man she liked to fuck. He had beautiful eyes and a winning smile. Maybe she might hang around home for a couple of weeks after all---certainly no longer than that.

"I'm Bonnie! I---or rather my parents---live next door."

"Bonnie? Bonnie. Well, well. I'm George. George Mason. 'Pleased to meet you Bonnie." He said taking in her scenery with no attempt to hide his interest.

"You do beautiful stone work but it's going to take months to finish as carefully as you are working."

"Maybe even years but I have the time."

"Do you happen to know who finally bought this place?"

"Well, actually I do. Ah, in reality, it was bought by a corporation whose founder has an idea of possibly using it as a second home. I'm looking after the renovations for the next few weeks; I'm trying to ensure that it's restored to its original state. Are you familiar with the house? Maybe you wouldn't mind taking a look inside and giving me some advice on a couple of things."

"I used to play over here when I was a kid---when I was twelve or thirteen years old. I don't remember much about the architecture; kids don't really remember those things, but I'd love to see inside; it would bring back fond memories."

"So you knew the original owners—the people who built this magnificent structure?"

"No, I never met them. I knew the caretakers who lived in the garage apartment and looked after the place, or more accurately, I used to play with their kids until my parents decided that it wasn't appropriate. My parents were, are, very hung up on little Bonnie having only the 'right' playmates." 

Bonnie made no attempt to hide her contempt for the snobbishness that dominated this beach community. She hoped it would make him more comfortable with her but he didn't seem remotely intimidated. On the other hand, her disdain for her parent's social climbing style was real.

"Would you like to see the progress inside?"

Bonnie assented even though an outside fuck would have been more to her liking. A nice quick, hard, dirty little fuck from behind with this attractive young man's strong hands mauling her fine tits and fingering her little nubbin. She hoped his cock was fat and long...and very hard. She knew she was living dangerously but that made the sex so much better. She was on the pill so that wouldn't be a factor. He appeared to be only a few years older than she was.

As he showed her the impressive progress being made in renovating inside, she had wistful memories from a happy summer running through this grand old house playing hide and seek. The living room was several hundred square feet larger than the average new home being built in the United States. The old full size grand piano was still prominently displayed; it appeared to have been completely refurbished. The top was covered with a mass of Compact Discs in unmarked boxes. As she looked at George quizzically, he anticipated her question.

"I enjoy writing songs, Bonnie. Do you like music?"

"Sure! What kind of music do you write?"

"While it's probably not a mainstay in this palm-studded little paradise. I write country music with a little rock and a little blues."

"Have I ever heard any of your songs?"

"Well, unless you're an aficionado of what is currently known as, progressive country, and you don't strike me as the type, I would doubt it. My rock stuff tends to be more rock-country so you wouldn't hear it on the typical rock or pop radio station. My blues stuff is still pretty personal. I've just formed a jazz-blues trio and we're going to test the waters this summer."

"You play too? Well of course you do. Would you play something for me?"

"I suppose so. Let's see, you look like you belong perched on a tall bar stool in a smoky little village dive with a straight up martini in your hand wearing something silk and slinky. Let's go in that direction."

It hadn't been a come on but it had been the most overtly erotic thing she had ever heard a man say to her. Sure, she'd been in that funky little off the beaten path bar in New York City. She loved jazz and she loved martinis. As he started to play the slow, smoky, sensual piece, Bonnie knew she wanted this man's cock. Any man who wrote like this and played like this had to be good in the sack. It just went with the territory. The music flowed across her body and fondled her perfect young form like a great man with strong but gentle hands. It was the definition of sex and longing. He played for over twenty minutes, coming back to the refrain, reasserting the basic theme and Bonnie's little pussy was dripping.

"Wow." Was all she could say.

"I'll take that as approval. Thank you Bonnie."

"I love jazz, particularly when it's smoky with that strong blues tone. I can't believe that you can't sell that one."

"I probably could but then someone else would just fuck it up. First, this kind of music is very personal and the performance almost always makes it or breaks it. Secondly, there is absolutely no money to be made in this particular genre."

"So, you've had some success? You've sold some of your work?"

"Oh, I guess you could say I've received a few royalty checks. I love writing but I also enjoy playing and performing. I'm not sure you'll even know what I'm talking about but I absolutely love honky-tonk. It's music with a solid base line, a rock beat that gets people up and dancing, a fiddle and a steel guitar and a story that only 'hick' music can provide. It's bar or road house music, played load and hard."

"Oooooh, will you play something country?"

"Well, let's see. The piano is not often an essential mainstay of honky-tonk. If you're serious, let's try it on the guitar, electric, of course. It loses a bit with out the rest of the band but let's give it a spin."

George retrieved his guitar from a case next to the piano and plugged it into a small amp.

"Have you ever heard of Alan Jackson?"

"Didn't he do that song, 'Where Were You?' It was about 9/11. He's pretty new isn't he?"

"Well, no, not really; actually he's a living legend in country music but there is no reason you should know that. Anyway, he and I co-wrote this a few years back. It was a big hit for him and actually the first song I had any real commercial success with. We wrote it when I was in high school."

George Mason quickly checked the tuning of his guitar and then jumped right into a rousing rendition of, "Don't Rock the Juke Box." Bonnie found it impossible not to move with the music and was amazed at George's almost effortless guitar work. He had a great voice too, easily professional grade. Maybe she could help him break through in the music business; she had money. She still knew damn well she wanted to fuck him but now she was pretty sure she wanted to get to know him. He might prove to be the most interesting man she would meet in town.

George segued into two other songs, one a classic country cheating song entitled, she assumed, "When I Think About Cheating" and another about a young girl abandoned by the father of her baby who ultimately finds love with another man called, "She Could Have Cried." The last one had her in tears. She'd have to consider expanding her musical tastes

"Gets to you, doesn't it? Modern pop music is pretty much in the toilet. It's hard to get misty eyed when you're listening to talk about 'bitches and hos' or 'busting a cap' in someone's head. Country music, if it works, is genuine, people writing about real life, love found and love lost, 'Songs About Me' as Trace Adkins so eloquently put it."

George put his instrument away and turned back to speak to Bonnie. "Do you have any plans you can't cancel for this evening, Bonnie? I'd be glad to take you out and broaden your musical horizons. There's actually some pretty good live music of almost every genre within half an hour of here. There are some very big names, at least on the country scene who live in these parts, particularly on the next strip of sand to the North. They often play small clubs in the area, often under assumed names to try out something they are working on."

"Why not?" Bonnie replied with little hesitation. She was disappointed that she would have to postpone the quick fuck she had come over for but she'd get some cock before the night was over, of that she was certain.

"Okay, well this is definitely a dress down scene, jeans are mandatory. Why don't we grab an early dinner? How 'bout of I pick you up around six?"

"That'll work!" Bonnie said as she and George went back outside. Impetuously, she kissed him on the lips; it wasn't a whorish probing kiss but certain a warm and inviting one. When his arms slipped around her young body, she did not resist. They both knew where they would end up before daybreak.

"Here! Take this CD with you. You can listen to it while you're getting ready. It's by a guy named George Strait, truly the king of country music. You may not like all of it but there are several that will jerk your heart strings."

"Thanks! I'll see you later."

Bonnie went home and wrote out a quick note to her parents indicating that she would be out until the next day. Not that they would really give a shit. She wasn't a kid anymore. She wiggled her fine young hips into an excruciatingly tight pair of designer jeans and a white shirt that she had once purchased for some silly party at college. It wasn't pure country but the embroidery made it as close as she was going to get. She actually owned western style boots which she'd bought on a hoot at Saks. She looked even more deliciously fuckable than usual in the full length mirror, if that was even possible. 

She listened to most of the CD George had given her. She was very glad she didn't wear eye makeup. 'You Look so Good in Love', "The Man in Love With You', 'Blue Clear Sky', 'Today My World Slipped Away', 'Write This Down', 'She'll Leave You With a Smile' and finally, 'Run'; the most incredible words of love and longing she had ever heard, had her in tears. 

"Wow" Was all she could say as George helped her into the cab of what she recognized was a real pickup truck. To her surprise the music on his car player was classical; it was Mozart, a violin Concerto.

"My tastes in music are very eclectic. There are even some kids on the scene today, alternative is what it's often called, guy like John Mayer and groups like Maroon Five and Three Doors Down that are a breath of fresh air on the modern music scene. Stevie Wonder has a new album out after fifteen years and he hasn't lost a damn thing! Prince is starting to rediscover that funk groove that made him a superstar. Wait! Listen to this!" George said, punching in a number on his music system. "This actually feeds off of an mp3 player in the glove box; I can load anything I want on it. Listen to this song; I swear to God if Mozart came on the scene today he would be some combination of Stevie and Prince. I'm sure you've heard it; it's still popular dance club fare. It's called DMSR---Dance, Music, Sex, Romance."

Bonnie's fine young butt could not stay still. DMSR was a song she had always enjoyed; she had enjoyed dancing to it and fucking to it. "I love it! That song just says, fuck me!" 

"My thought exactly." George said with a grin.

They drove for almost thirty minutes far from the glitz and façade of where they had started. They dined at a little dockside fish-house. Boats would cruise up and sell their catch to the proprietors. The chef would then prepare the fresh fare however you wanted it but included his own suggestions. The wine list was small but impressive and absurdly reasonable. Soon they were back in the truck headed down a two lane highway.

"We're going to a classic shit kicker bar. Most of the people there are local farmers, ranchers or agricultural workers. A guy I know---again you've probably never heard of him---jams out there when he's not on tour and just wants to get back to his honky-tonk roots."

The parking lot of the dilapidated little road house was packed. She doubted that they would be able to get in. George drove his truck around to the back where a security guy with a big cowboy hat waved them past an improvised barricade. There was a modest RV parked behind the building. George jumped out of the truck, retrieved Bonnie and went over to the door of the RV and began to bang on it. The biggest man she had ever met came to the door and opened it with a scowl which instantly turned to a smile of recognition.

"You're a sight for sore eyes!"

"Trace, this Bonnie, Bonnie this is Trace. Trace, Bonnie is just discovering country music so she hasn't got a fuckin' clue who the hell you are."

"Well that might just be a refreshing change! Come on in, guys."

"Where's your regular bus, you decrepit old man?"

"Hell, I've got a house not an hour from here and with the price of gas...Hey! Did you come to play?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, my lead guitarist got held up with some marital problems; he won't be here until the second set. We've got a table down front for the girls so you can keep a close eye on your lady friend. Did you bring your axe?"

I've got a Fender in the truck."

"Well... go get it! We're on in ten minutes. We're only doing three new songs; you wrote one of them, you co-wrote the second one with me and you'll just have to improvise on the last one. The rest of the stuff you already know. I'll entertain this delightful young lady while you go get your hardware."


Just Say Yes and Smile



Veronica was 32 years old, broke, alone, unhappy, frustrated, and very pissed off! She had just finalized her divorce from her high school and college sweetheart and husband of 11 years, Gary. Actually getting rid of Gary could be considered the only good thing that had happened to her in a long time! She and Gary both came from Italian American families in New Jersey. Their friends used to kid them about being like the psychiatrist's family in the Sopranos. All four of their parents were professionals with PhD degrees, and both families lived in an affluent area. They met in high school and were a perfect match, at least in their parent's eyes, and soon in theirs too. They both wanted to become college professors, and they had great grades and SAT scores, too. Veronica went to Vassar for undergraduate school, while Gary went to Brown, and when they both got into Princeton for graduate school, life was perfect and they were married. 

Their sex life consisted of some very quick foreplay followed by an even quicker bout of missionary position sex under the covers once a week. Gary would cheerfully say "night" and fall asleep instantly. Veronica had never been with anyone else, so she thought that was pretty normal. Both their families were overjoyed when they got PhD's in the same graduation ceremony; Gary in anthropology, and Veronica in English.

They had the perfect career strategy too. They would get associate professorships at large but less prestigious land grant universities in the south, where their incredible pedigrees and CV's would soon vault them ahead of the local yokels. They would each make full professor in record time, and then have multiple offers to move up to the 'real universities' in the east!

They were overjoyed when they were both offered positions at Land Grant University, a well funded enclave of academic liberalism in an otherwise conservative state, which they had previously considered 'flyover country'. They could execute their perfect strategy and live together too! Gary immediately found a senior anthropology professor with a prestigious chair who looked like a good mentor, and was soon working on research that should get him co-authorship on several groundbreaking papers that would be widely cited. Veronica lucked into a promising offshoot of the English department: Women's Studies.

Soon she was attending every feminist academic conference that mattered and soaking up the culture of using 'womyn' instead of women, and writing long articles for obscure journals about institutionalized paternalism, institutionalized rape, and dead white guys. Gary was supportive, because it was actually something new that related to cultural anthropology and it was very trendy in the academic political circles he wanted to travel in. They even attended some "intense reprogramming weekend" seminars intended to desensitize them to anti-feminist language by substituting the word 'cunt" for every use of any other word referring to females or female characteristics. 

Veronica looked a bit like the psychiatrist on 'Necessary Roughness' on TV but with an even fuller figure. She was a runner and her legs were in very good shape. She adopted the nickname 'Ronnie" to try sound a little more butch, and was hit on regularly by the horde of lesbians drawn to her lipstick good looks, big boobs, and obvious brainpower. But she was not really tempted by those propositions, even though Gary paid her less and less attention. He had never been too aggressive or sexually inventive, and his new social climbing strategy to get tenure took lots of time away from home. But soon they were being seen as a couple at Burning Man and Renaissance Weekend in Hilton Head. They just knew they were on their way to bigger and better things. 

One side effect of Ronnie's feminist studies was that she became widely read on popular sexual practices, masturbation, toys, orgasms, and sex in general. Her bright mind rapidly formed the conclusion that she was not getting her propers from Gary and never had. She created an extensive mental inventory and bucket list of all the things she wanted to try in bed, with men, but likely not with Gary.

The tenure track proved far trickier than they thought. Lots of other smart folks from other states and countries were at LGU to execute the same strategy, and some of the local yokels were not only good researchers and writers, but they had a leg up on university politics through family ties. To make a long and sad story short, Gary's promising mentor turned out to have fabricated some of his early research data and was quietly cashiered. Gary was odd man out and was soon told that he was not going to get tenure, and not even a contract renewal. In his typical fashion, he blamed Ronnie for not being in a 'real science' department like anthropology and thus failing to help lend him credibility, and took to the bottle. 

Ronnie was offered a slightly better position if she would spend her nights with a chain smoking bull dyke that already had tenure, and apparently some good blackmail material on the dean or maybe even a regent, but after declining that offer she soon got the same message as Gary. The University lost its enthusiasm for women's studies when it didn't bring in the research money like petroleum engineering did, and then Ronnie was downsized completely. 

They had a messy breakup wherein Gary said he no longer found her attractive and was sure she was actually a lesbian. Gary also had maxed out their credit cards drinking and when all the documents were filed and final, Ronnie got their small house with very little equity and payments every month for 24 more years, and Gary got the car and left for a teaching job at a junior college. 

Her former friends at LGU shunned her as no longer a tenure tracker, except for one faithful couple. Jay was a gregarious hippy part time lecturer in English who did not want tenure, and made as much money from freelance photography and selling cameras on commission at the biggest local camera store than most full professors. His wife Jennie was a senior staff member to a state senator who had been in office for 20 years and would probably be reelected for at least 20 more. They were Ronnie's only emotional support in a time of great need.

Jennie found Ronnie a job as an entry level legislative assistant in another senator's office at the state capitol that paid just enough to make her house payments and have macaroni and cheese for supper. Jennie also encouraged Ronnie to begin dating again. At least one night a week she would ride home with Jennie for supper, where a parade of eligible bachelors joined them to meet Ronnie. All of the academic types reminded her too much of Gary, and most of the others lacked the IQ to even begin an interesting conversation, much less carry on with one. They were just too boring!

Then Jennie called her to invite her to come with them to a noon to midnight party on Saturday thrown by the owner of the camera store where Jay worked. She said there might be some interesting men there, and insisted that she join them. The party house was in an affluent suburb, on a hill with great views overlooking the university. It was a restored art deco home built in the 1930's, surrounded by huge oak trees, a swimming pool, and a tennis court. The Spanish tile kitchen was filled with pot luck brunch dishes plus bagels, and a two huge professional margarita machines swirled at the ready to dispense traditional and bright red strawberry margaritas that were tasty and very potent. Since it was fall and the LGU football team was playing, one room had a projection TV devoted to showing football games. The huge master bedroom had a bed that looked twice king sized, three big couches, and wall mounted screen and projector showing 'classic' porn films. There was even a schedule posted, starting with 'Debbie Does Dallas' presumably in keeping with the football theme, followed by 'Insatiable', 'Sex World', and finally 'Behind the Green Door' just before midnight. 

Ronnie smiled thoughtfully. She had once written a Women's Studies Journal review of other scholarly articles about pornography and its effects on women. "Behind the Green Door' was a topic of much academic discussion, and she had of course commented authoritatively on the subject. But she had never actually seen the film. 

Jennie then found her and took her out to the tennis court and pointed out a tall, brown haired young man playing tennis aggressively against Flash, the owner of the house and the camera store. Ronnie had played tennis all her life. The younger guy was playing well, actively moving with smart court positioning, good balance, and was hitting the ball well and looking damn good doing it. He was dressed in completely white traditional tennis togs, with shorts that revealed very muscular legs and a tight white knit shirt that clung to his muscular chest. Ronnie was impressed. "I didn't know he was in town!" Jennie said breathlessly, "or I would have had him to dinner." 

"Who Is that?" Ronnie asked. Jennie was encouraged that Ronnie seemed actually interested, so she dished "His name is Walker, but his nickname is, believe it or not, Ranger." Bonnie did not get the reference, she had never watched TV in her life, and her parents were proud of that. Jennie continued "He worked in the camera store with Jay for four years when he was getting his undergraduate engineering degree at LGU, then went to Harvard for an MBA. I am not sure why he is back now. But he sure looks good, doesn't he?" Ronnie made a humming noise.

On the court, Ranger was down 2 games at their water break, Flash was trying to make a bet. "If you win I have to watch 'Behind the Green Door' later tonight in my underwear with everyone watching me, and if you lose, you have to." Jennie and Jay walked onto the court, with Ronnie following along. Jay wanted to razz Flash and Jennie wanted to introduce Ronnie to Ranger.

Ranger laughed. "Shoot, that is the way you always watch porn, and watching you is no prize, buddy. I might be tempted to throw the game so I can avoid any chance of having to see that!"

"That's what he is hoping for!" interjected Marie, Flash's very attractive wife. She stood near the court in tight fitting white tennis outfit, too. 

Jennie spoke in Ronnie's ear as they approached "You may want to consider trying something different than your normal approach with this guy! I guarantee you will have more fun than all those unsuccessful blind date dinners at our house!" 

Ronnie was offended. "What do you mean different approach? The first step is always to see if this guy is a sexist pig or not before I decide whether to spend any time with him." Jennie was recalling the gist of their many recent conversations, and she was getting increasingly frustrated with Ronnie. She decided to let her have it! "Listen to me, Ronnie! You are no longer playing 'smartest feminist in the room' for tenure, hon. All men are pigs, but some of them rut very nicely, and that's what you need right now. Besides Jay has known this guy for years, and says he is a real prince with very high standards. Lots of women throw themselves at him, but he has only had a couple of long term relationships. And he is at least as smart and well read as you are little missy! Maybe you are afraid HE will find YOU boring?"

Ronnie was now spitting mad, and Jennie sensed she could close the deal she wanted. "Ronnie, I DARE YOU to just say yes to this guy and see what happens!"

Ronnie was now livid, even though she was still whispering, almost hissing! "What do you mean just say yes?"

"It's a dating method we used to use in my dorm when I was an undergrad. The girls would rate potential dates as a group, and if an 'A' or 'B' rated guy asked one of the girls out, she had to just say yes with a smile to everything he asked. It was fun and very, very exciting! I am your only girlfriend right now and I rate him A+" 

Ronnie looked askance but she was thinking about it. Her chosen methods had proven to work pretty poorly over the last 11 years or so, that was for sure. He was by far the hottest guy she had seen in a while and quite an improvement over her last offer from the bull dyke! "What exactly does it mean to always say yes?" She said suspiciously.

Jennie moved in for the close "If he asks you out, you say yes and smile. If he tries to kiss you, you let him. If he asks you to come home with him, you say yes and smile. If he asks you to take off your blouse, you do it. Get the picture?"

Ronnie was scandalized. "What if he asks me to fellate him?" Ronnie realized after she said it that she had never done that to Gary or anyone else, but it was on her bucket list.

Jennie laughed. "Oh how I love those academic terms! But the answer is yes honey! Pucker up and suck him off! That's the exciting part! You know all night that if he asks you are going to have to do it! You just don't know what he is going to ask for and when! It makes you hot as can be! And tell me the truth – if you just wanted to get your ashes hauled, you could to a lot worse than this guy, couldn't you?"

Ronnie shook her head no. "I can't argue with that!" "OK" Jennie said. "Give me your pinkie promise. Ranger gets the all yes treatment?"

Ronnie shook her head yes."I may regret it, but I'll try it!" After all she thought, things really could not get much worse, and maybe a little diversion would help, and it was going to make the party more interesting. The water break was almost over. Ray caught Ranger's eye and said "What are you doing in town?" 

Ranger gave Jay one of those guy hug/punch things. "After I finished my MBA in May I found out I had enough extra engineering class credits here to finish an MS degree in summer school plus the fall semester thesis class with Professor Poteet. I have been in California on a field project gathering the data, and I got back here yesterday to begin to process it all and write it up." He saw Jennie and gave her a hug. Jennie introduced him to Ronnie.

He looked Ronnie up and down unabashedly and smiled at her widely. She caught him looking; he saw it, smiled again and looked again. Ronnie was aghast at his sexist chutzpah! But she decided to keep her promise to Jennie. "Very pleased to meet you!" he finally said. 

"I noticed you moving your feet during the match and setting up shots in your mind. I'm guessing you are a pretty good player?" "Yes" Ronnie said.

"Ranger smiled. "Would you play doubles with me so we can beat our host and his wife soundly?"

"Yes" Ronnie said, and Jennie smiled.

"Can we spend the rest of the evening together, win or lose the tennis match?" He asked. "Yes" was all Ronnie said with a smile, and Jennie smiled broadly again. She loved it when a one of her evil plans came together!

Ranger took Ronnie aside and spoke softly. "Can we talk strategy a second?"

"Yes" Ronnie smiled. Ranger leaned closer. "I'm sure you don't have any tennis clothes with you so you will end up in one of Marie's outfits. Without being too blatantly sexist, you are as we say down here, 'a fine figure of a woman' and you will really fill out that outfit. I would like you to play the net as much as possible. Flash will be so distracted it will cost them at least 2 points per game. OK?" Ronnie just could not simply smile and reply in the affirmative to this one. "If that's not blatantly sexist, what would be?" she said challengingly, with her eyes sparkling. 

Ranger smiled. "What Flash will say when you come to the net for the first time. Will you hold judgment on my sexism for a while yet, at least until we talk about it?"

"Yes" Ronnie smiled. Ranger gave her a little hug around the shoulders and she suddenly realized she needed more hugs. 

Ranger walked to the net and issued a challenge to Flash. Flash wanted the same bet as before but with Marie and Ronnie included in the payoff. Ranger asked Ronnie if she was willing to bet. She said yes and smiled. Ranger said to Ronnie sotto voce "I don't want to be tempted to lose just because I want to see you in your underwear. If we win the match, will you still let me see you anyway?"

After her initial anger, Ronnie realized this was getting her a little hot, for the first time in a long time, but she reverted to her high school pre-Gary flirting tactics. "Maybe" she said.

She did end up changing into one of Marie's outfits, and like Ranger had predicted, it was very tight across her chest. When she came to the net for the first serve, Flash whistled loudly and said "Man check out those bodacious tatas!" She blushed, but turned to Ranger and smiled. Flash served and the match began. Flash was clearly distracted by her breasts, and she surprised herself by bending forward and turning to drive him nuts, especially when she was right across the net from him. She laughed as he almost bit his tongue a few times! 

They won the first three games easily, and Marie was giving Flash hell for his poor play. At the break, Ranger gave her another little shoulder hug. She loved it. "Nice playing partner!" he said, "and I owe you an apology."

She smiled at Ranger and said "None required. Flash was blatantly sexist, and you were only mildly so by comparison." He smiled and side. "Oh, he actually was more polite that I was afraid he would be. And I am not sexist; I was just letting you know I fancy you! But I was wrong about our strategy"

Ronnie was taken aback; she had not been pursued in a long time. But and she found she liked it, and liked him being honest about it. She thought of writing an article entitled. 'He's not really a sexist if he tells you politely he wants to fuck you.' But she focused on Ranger again "Well he is certainly staring at my chest and missing shots!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, and you are doing a fine job of driving him crazy. But I miscalculated. I didn't account for the fact that when you go to net and bend forward to distract him, that cute little tennis dress rides up in the back and drives me crazy!. I am missing as many shots as he is!" he laughed.

She realized she would have been livid at that remark a few months ago, but now it made her feel good! High school flirting came back to her mind. "Maybe I should cool it with the bending forward...." she let it hang.

"No!" he exclaimed quickly, and she giggled. She hadn't giggled in at least 5 years! "Just keep it up and I will do my best!" He smiled at her and looked directly in her eyes, then realized the potential inappropriateness of the phrase 'keep it up'. She picked up on it too, looked at his shorts and said, "Looks like you are" and smiled. What a fun party she thought to herself. 

The match did not take long, and Flash and Marie lost in straight sets. Ronnie decided it would give her an excuse to watch "Behind the Green Door' for the first time. Heck, she would even have a cute date for the movie!

Ranger suggested they should make themselves plates of food and sit at a table and then he would fetch them margaritas. They were joined at a nice table under the oak trees in the patio by Jay and Jennie, and another couple that looked familiar, but Ronnie couldn't quite place. When Ranger returned with the drinks, he introduced them to the other couple, who turned out to be Professor Poteet and his wife, who was a partner in one of the big local law firms. The professor was a photography nut and a big customer at the camera store. Ronnie was struck by how easily the conversation flowed and how much it held her interest. She was really enjoying herself. Ranger was certainly keeping up his end of things and she found herself looking forward to talking with him alone. 

LGU was winning the football game and there was much celebration. Flash cranked up a huge stereo and couples began dancing in the music room and out in the hallway. Ranger asked Ronnie to dance and she said yes and smiled. When a slow dance came on, Ranger zeroed in on her and took her in his arms strongly. Her mother had sent her to ballroom dancing classes her whole life, and she discovered that Ranger knew just as many steps as she did, plus a lot of country and western stuff she did not, and soon they were floating around the floor together. Whenever a slow song stopped Ranger kissed her and she let him. Jennie, dancing nearby with Ray, smiled broadly.




Just Say Yes and Smile



Many dances and margaritas later, Flash loudly announced show time for the final porno film. He and Marie climbed up on the bed in some pretty skimpy underwear. A lot of people crowded into the bedroom and Ronnie and Ranger were driven back onto the bed and up against the headboard to make room. Ranger leaned his back against the headboard, and Ronnie sat in front of him. Jennie and Ray were seated on a couch on the side of the room, and Jennie was more interested in watching Ronnie than the movie, which she and Ray had seen before. The film began and Ronnie was surprised at the very good picture quality. Flash was a camera store guy and an enthusiast. He had a good print, some top of the line 35 mm projection equipment and a high quality screen. Ronnie was also surprised that there was no sex at all in the beginning, just guys sitting in a diner and talking. 

Ranger decided he really liked Ronnie. She was beautiful, she was smart, and they were both unattached, but he might only be in town two more months. He decided to pursue her as aggressively as possible, pushing the envelope. He would be crestfallen if she said no, but exultant if she kept saying yes! Ranger leaned in to her ear and said "I noticed your serving motion puts a lot of strain on your shoulders and back. Should I give you a back rub to help you relax?"

"Yes" she said and smiled. Ranger's hands were strong and warm, and her shoulders were always tense from holding up her boobs. The massage felt wonderful, and she did begin to relax. He moved his legs up around hers and she settled a little closer to him. 

On the screen, the scene changed dramatically. The young blond star was suspended on a stage in front of an audience, naked, helpless and totally exposed. Why, anyone could do anything to her and everyone could see it and she was powerless to resist! Ronnie was riveted! Her breathing became ragged and she literally quivered. She got wet in a second. It was very different to read a dry description in a scholarly article than to experience a high quality image. Although the film had been made in the 70's, the quality was good enough for her mind to project herself right into the scene. She realized that is what she was doing. When she tried unsuccessfully to stifle a moan and pushed back against him, Ranger could not help but notice. He lightly kissed her neck and said "Steady there, beautiful. I am assuming you have never seen this before, right?" Yes she said breathlessly, but he could not see her sly smile. 

He moved his hands down from her shoulders to the bottom of her bra, and began to massage exactly where the underwire cut into her back. How did he know to do that? It felt wonderful! She was getting even more relaxed and wetter, too! 

Ranger noticed she was completely charged up by this scene, and she was agreeing to everything he suggested, so he decided to swing for the fences! He kissed her neck again and said, "Would you like me to tie you up later?" Ronnie was electrified by the thought. But she had to confess later to Jennie that she did not just say yes. Without even thinking, she said "Oh, God, Yes!" 

On screen, several women came into the scene to kiss and fondle the blonde, and then an athletic black guy took her forcefully in a long and almost psychedelic sequence that she knew from reading about it would end with multiple camera replays of his ejaculation, like the repeated slow motion explosions and deaths in a Sam Peckinpah western. 

But all this action did not affect Ronnie nearly as much as the initial image of the vulnerable girl alone. When the girl was hanging naked and helpless, Ronnie's active mind filled in all the things that could be done to her that she could not resist. She also realized that most of them were on her bucket list. Ranger then moved his fingers gently under her bra and deftly massaged the red spots the underwire bra always caused her. It was like magic as he began to sooth away the biggest downside of being 'full figured". She had never been so turned on and trusting at the same time. 

He kissed her neck again, this time with a little tongue that left a cool but hot spot on her skin. "Would you like me to unhook that bra?"

"Yessss....." she said. She smiled. He did. His hands found perfect placement and soon her back and shoulders felt better than they had in years. He worked his fingers diligently until all the soreness from the support bra was erased. He kissed her neck again while the credits from the film rolled. He leaned in and whispered in her ear "You realize that if I tie you up you will be helpless and I can do anything to you?"

Yes, she said and smiled. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart thudded even faster. He put his hand around her and hugged her protectively like she was cold. She was hot. She felt apprehensive and excited and scared but still felt like he was protecting her! Someone turned the lights on in the room and Jennie saw their embrace. She saw that Ronnie's eyes were big and wide, her face was flushed, and she looked happier than she had in years!

Ranger could now smell her wetness, and it gave him real insight. She just needed someone else to be in control so she could really let loose! Ranger whispered in her ear one last time "I want you, Ronnie! I need you. Are you willing to let me do anything I want? Do anything that I tell you to?" "Yes!" she hissed, and she smiled as she saw Jennie watching them.

As everyone filed out of the bedroom, Jennie slyly asked Ronnie if she needed a ride home. Ronnie looked frantic for second, but Ranger spoke up and took control for her. "I'll take care of her tonight." Jennie sure hoped he would, and like Gary never had!

They got in Ranger's jeep. He said he was crashing on a friend's couch, so they would have no privacy there. Ronnie said she had her own little house and they could have complete privacy, and directed him there. He soon parked in the driveway, got out and opened Ronnie's door for her. When she started toward her front door, he grabbed a roll of light nylon cord he had used to secure cargo in the open back of the jeep on the drive from California. Ronnie's eyes went wide when she saw it. This was really going to happen, wasn't it! 

She locked the door behind them and Ranger kissed her sweetly. She could barely breathe! He kissed her neck and shoulders, unbuttoning her blouse and kissing more territory as it was exposed. He unhooked the underwire bra and then crushed her against his chest, putting his hands on the back of her shoulders and pressing her breasts hard against his pectoral muscles. He felt her nipples harden and press against him. Ronnie moaned. 

Ronnie felt like she was watching a movie of herself. She knew she had no control. She knew Ranger was going to do whatever he wanted. She felt a surge of electricity go through her pussy! Nothing was her fault! Nothing was her choice! She had already said yes, and now she had to do whatever he wanted. Jennie was right; it made her hot as hell! 

He must have sensed her excitement. He got a little rougher and quickly stripped off her pants and panties. He threw her onto the couch! He put several loops of rope around her left wrist, then looped it over the back of the couch and then under the leg of the couch. He tied it there, and she watched as he pulled a folding pocket knife from his pocket, snapped the blade out and cut the rope off. He did the same thing with her right wrist. Her arms were wide apart along the back of the couch, with her fine big breasts, held up by her pectoral muscles, were firm and rising and falling with her rapid breathing, and her nipples were like bullets.

He took her left knee in his hand and looped more rope under and around it. He tied the rope up to one that held her left arm, and then did the same on the right. She was now spread eagled on the couch with her knees up and her legs wide open and unable to move her arms and legs more than an inch or so. He liked the way she looked. 

Ranger was no expert at this bondage thing. Most of his limited knowledge came from porn flicks that Flash had shown at previous parties. He really was not into whipping her, or spitting on her, or calling her slut, and he did not think she would be either. He thought she would get off on being told she was beautiful, told what he was going to do, and then having it happen to her! 

She stared at him with her eyes dilated. He patiently checked her ropes to make sure she knew she was helpless. Then he did one thing he had seen in a film: he left her and went into the kitchen refrigerator and got himself a soft drink, letting her steep in her own juices a little.

It worked like in the movie. Ronnie suddenly got really mad at being left and ignored! She struggled against the ropes, she called him a bastard, she growled at him. But she could not budge her restraints, and her frustration knew no bounds. But her useless struggles just flushed her skin, added tension in her muscles, and brought home her complete helplessness, and that suddenly made her even more excited. 

Ranger slowly walked back into the room. He turned and looked at her as if to say 'Oh, are you still here?' She struggled some more. When she finally stopped, he slowly began to take off his shirt. She stopped struggling and watched closely. He patiently folded his shirt and put it on one of the side chairs near the couch. He then did the same with the rest of his clothes. She stared at his erect penis with an open mouth. She never really got to see Gary's much; it was always in the dark and under the covers. But his one looked longer and thicker, with a bigger head on it, and it looked smooth and really hard. Was he going to make her suck it? She was sure he would!

He moved closer, stopping just inches from her face. Her eyes stayed focused on his dick, and he liked that! He leaned into her and she licked her lips in anticipation, but then he just rubbed her nipples with it. That felt good, but it was almost disappointing. Surely he would put it in her mouth now! She was just going to have to accept that!

But he did not! He moved around behind her on the couch and then cupped one breast in his hand. Then he roughly rolled the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Ronnie jumped in shock. He pinched it a little harder and she screamed a muffled little scream, but she realized she was now frantic with excitement. He moved back in front of her and knelt down and then bit each nipple gently, then a little harder. It was like a direct connection to her pussy, and she began to worry about staining her couch. 

He moved his head down and began kissing her thigh, just above the rope on her knee. He slowly moved toward her crotch, using his lips, teeth, and lots of tongue. He outlined her strong leg muscles, but when he got to within about an inch of her outer pussy lips, he moved over and started on the other knee. She was getting impatient. Gary had never shown any interest in kissing her pussy, but Ranger sure did. But he was teasing her again. Eventually he began to gently lick her outer lips. She gasped. She had read articles about it, but she had never experienced it! It felt wonderful! Maybe those lipstick lesbians were on to something? 

He seemed to spend forever on them, and she was enchanted. He licked them, he sucked on them, and he bit them gently. Then he started on her inner lips, and she realized that was he kicking the whole thing up another notch. She squirmed on the couch, and began actively dripping from her pussy. 

He finally spoke. "Ronnie, your pussy is beautiful and I could kiss it all night! But if you want me to stop I will."

"No" She cried. She just could not say yes to that question! Ranger began licking her vaginal entrance and she realized she had never felt anything remotely like this with Gary. It was also much better than she had ever felt when fingering herself. When he began to gently lick her clit she shook her hips and came as hard as she ever had in her life. 

"That was tasty!" Ranger said. "Let's do that again." And he did. She came again, and again. He then left her clit for second and pushed his face forward, thrusting his tongue into her! She bucked and strained and tried to push her pussy into him even harder. She came again. Except for masturbation, she had just had more orgasms with Ranger than during the whole 11 years she was married to Gary! He put his hands under her and moved her ass forward on the couch even closer to him. She wondered what he was going to do. He then clamped his mouth onto her clit and sucked on it! She had one long rolling orgasm. She was not sure how long it lasted! He continued the suction and simultaneously began chewing on it gently. She almost passed out, but she came again first.

Her breathing was labored and he chuckled. "I am going to eat your ass now, Ronnie!"

What, she thought! That was nasty! That was disgusting. But when his tongue touched her, she bucked again. It didn't make her cum, but it made her horny. Really horny. He pushed his tongue further and further into her. She had never even imagined this.

"Ronnie" he said. "When I saw your cute little ass cheeks peeking out of that tennis dress, I knew I wanted to hug and kiss them. But it did not realize how much I would enjoy sticking my tongue in your tight little rosebud. It is truly delicious!" 

She literally shivered. She had never been spoken to like this! And she had never felt like this. "I'll tell you something else, too, Ronnie. I plan to fuck that tight little ass too! That is one of my new goals in life."

She was aghast! Surely he couldn't do that. Then she realized he could if he wanted to. And she felt her anal sphincter twitch! Then Ranger stood up and positioned his cock right in front of Ronnie's mouth. She got cross-eyed looking at it! 

Ranger discovered he was really getting into this! Ronnie was hotter than a firecracker! 

"Stick out your tongue, Ronnie. She did. He slid the sensitive underside of his cock onto the top her tongue and moved it around. She could not believe how silky and warm the skin on his cock felt. He stopped moving his dick, but she kept licking it on her own. He chuckled. 

"You get to choose Ronnie. Do you want to suck my cock, or just relax your jaw while I fuck your face? Either way I am going to come in your mouth!" 

She drew in a deep breath as if the question had shocked her. But then her body answered for her. She opened her lips and sucked the end of his cock into her mouth. 

"Good choice, Ronnie!. Start taking as much into your mouth as you can on each stroke. Suck on it as it moves out of your mouth, and then stop sucking and circle your tongue around as it moves toward you and into your mouth." 

Ronnie moaned, and then exhaled strongly through her nose. Ranger could feel the air move on the top of his wet cock. Ranger laughed. "Nice touch Ronnie! I like the feeling of that air from your nose blowing on my cock. Do that every 5 strokes or so. Now stop sucking for just a moment and stick the end of your tongue gently down and lick and tease the little slit at the end of my cock. That's a girl. Do that every five strokes or so too."

Ronnie tasted a little clear fluid coming from that slit. She licked it. She liked it! "Okay, Ronnie, back to the old in and out. Yes! That's good. Now don't forget to take more and more in until you have it all. You may feel me hitting the back of your throat. Anticipate it and don't gag. That's good girl! You almost have it all. Don't forget to exhale on me! 

She could feel her mouth getting fuller and fuller, as she took in more length and as Ranger's dick was swelling up a little bigger. She could taste a little more of that yummy fluid. She was not only just accepting the situation; she really wanted to make Ranger happy. 

"Oh, Ronnie, you may have a real talent for this. Now let's try one more little variation. One the next stroke, stop with just the head of my cock in your mouth, hold it still, and suck really hard on it for a count of three. 

Ronnie did. She felt the head of his cock swell even more as she sucked. She liked that. 

"Wonderful, wonderful, Ronnie. I want you to add that in every five strokes or so too! So keep up the in and out, and sometimes at the top lick my slit, and sometimes stop and suck for a count of three, sometimes exhale through your nose on me. Sometimes swirl your tongue clockwise as you take me in, and sometime counterclockwise. You can pick the exact order. Surprise me!"

Ronnie concentrated on her task. She wanted to be good at it. She was getting the hang of it, and she was really beginning to enjoy it. All her of worries and troubles faded away and she felt peace of mind. It was wonderful to completely lose herself in pleasing Ranger. 

"Okay, Ronnie. This is going very well. I feel myself touching the back of your throat sometimes now, so take me a little deeper so it happens on every stroke and make sure you don't gag. You should feel my balls hit your lower lips as you feel my dick at the back of your throat if you are doing things right. That's it beautiful! Now every once in a while take my dick all the way out of your mouth and suck on my balls for a few seconds. Nice. Now throw that in as another variation."

Ronnie was trying to remember all the things to do, and she thought she was doing pretty well. She was beginning to master overcoming her gag reflex, and was learning when to breathe through her nose at the right time without having to concentrate on it, and starting to like the full feeling when Ranger bottomed out in her throat. And she realized her pussy was starting to drip again.

"Oh, Ronnie, you are wonderful!" Ranger crooned. She loved his praise. "When I hit the back of your throat, see if you can get me down and extra half inch or so, and feel your throat grab on my cock as it goes down. You may have to open your lips a little wider, too. "

She tried it, and found it was actually a little easier and felt better to let him go on past the point where her gag reflex was triggered and on further down her throat a little bit. It actually felt so much better than she pushed forward as hard as she could to get it down as far as she could. She actually sighed a little bit when her throat relaxed even more and she just let him stay in there. He moved up and down, but always stayed beyond the tickle spot that triggered her gag reflex. She sighed again strongly and it came out almost as a humming sound!

"Ronnie that feels great!" Ranger exclaimed. She let him almost all the way out, sucked hard on the head, and then plunged it all the way down her throat again. She found a way to tense up her throat so as to let him slide by the gag spot more easily. He groaned. She was getting to him, and it made her feel powerful and great! 

"Unbelievable!" Ranger said. "Ronnie you are so good I am starting to feel like I might come! Now stop with just the head in your mouth and suck even harder than normal. Stay right there, count to three, and then suck again."

Ronnie followed his instructions to the letter. She felt the head of his cock swell and it seemed to get even hotter, but he did not shoot. 

"Oh Ronnie I want this to go on forever. You are wonderful! Try taking me down your throat again and go back to the alternating stuff" She did. "When I say 'take it' stop the in and out and just suck hard on the head and use your tongue on the underside. When I shoot into your mouth try to swallow before the count of three and then get ready for another spurt. Try to synchronize your suck and swallow sequence with timing of my squirts. I will probably shoot about five or six times."

"Okay" Ronnie hummed through her full mouth and throat. She was looking forward to it. Ranger had made he come so wonderfully, and now she wanted to make him feel good too. She wanted to make him feel better than any woman ever had!




Just Say Yes and Smile



Ranger put his hand behind her head and forced her down just a little further. That just made her hotter and she responded by licking the underside of his cock even harder. Ranger knew it was now inevitable. Bingo!

"Take it, Baby, take it!" he groaned. She loved being called his baby. She stopped, sealed her lips around the head of his cock and sucked really hard. She counted to three, still licking the underside, and then sucked again. One, two, and them a powerful salty spurt shot into her mouth. Not as bad as 'drinking from a fire hose' and a lot warmer and thicker. She sucked and counted to three again, and then another hot spurt hit her tongue. She was ready and swallowed all of it quickly, making a loud gulping sound, and was ready for the next one. She lost count, but not control, and she kept her routine going until he was thrusting into her mouth but not shooting anything anymore. She was so turned on! She took him all the way down her throat and sucked for all she was worth. There was nothing left to get. She stopped sucking and let him slip all the way out, then began licking all over the outside of his cock. She really got the ice cream cone metaphor now, but this was better! Fewer calories and more protein! Great taste and less filling! She was still so hot she was getting silly!

He untied her arms and legs, and lay on the couch next to her. He rolled them over so she was on top of him and hugged her strongly, kissing her fervently. She was so happy that he was happy! He began kissing her neck, and hugged her so hard it made her burp! She realized it tasted like his come. He kissed her for so long she lost track of time. She did not want to find track of time. He started to kiss her nipples again, and it felt even better than before! 

She said "let's go get in bed!" and led the way to the bedroom. He lay by her side and began kissing her and running his hands on her legs. His had found her snatch and realized she was still wet and flowing. He was completely hard again. He got up on his knees over her, positioned himself, and then slowly eased in. Her pussy was hot and wet and wonderful. He slowly pushed all the way in. "Yes!" she said.

The she giggled and got an idea. "Okay, Ranger", she said. "That feels nice. Try to push into me as far as you can but nice and slow. Then I'll tell you what to do next!"

He kissed her and said "It's always the brainy girls you have to watch out for!" 

He began a slow deep fucking motion, ending with all his weight on her pubic bone and hoping to put pressure on her clit by doing so. "OK, baby, he said "Tell me just how you like to be fucked!"

She smiled wickedly. "You may have talent for this, Ranger! Now hook your elbows under my knees and get my legs up further so you can get deeper into me." He smiled and did it.

"Now faster, and try to ride up towards the top and hit my G spot!" Ranger smiled and said yes. 

They both continued to do that for each other for as long as they were together, which turned out to be a lot longer than 11 years. 



Just Say Yes



The man grinning at her from a couple of feet away was incredibly sexy. He was unquestionably a bad boy but when he smiled it could melt steel. 

"You're perfectly safe with me honey, I'm probably old enough to be your daddy—at least under the liberal marriage laws where I grew up in Louisiana."

"Who says I want to be safe?" Bonnie said, turning on her most lascivious smile.

"Wow, babe! You are a handful. I can see immediately what George sees in you."

"Have you and he been friends long?"

"Not long enough! George came to hear me play a few years back in a place not much better than this place. I'd been in the business for a while but I didn't have a contract or much hope of ever becoming more than a popular but marginally successful bar entertainer; I was damned if I was going back to the Louisiana oil fields. So this kid comes up to the bus after the show. Well, hell, it wasn't a bus, it was this very same old RV you're sitting in. He tells me he enjoyed the show and thinks he knows why I haven't made the big time. I smile; I've heard it before. Then he says, 'you're trying to be a straight country singer but you're a lot more than that. Turn down the steel guitar and crank up the bass and lead. The industry is ready for honky-tonk again, hell they're always ready for it---those assholes in Nashville are just too stupid to recognize it.' So I get all wise-ass and say, 'well son, you don't happen to know someone who's going to give me a recording contract, do you?' And he says, 'well, I know a few people in the industry, but you're not remotely ready for a contract; you need to stop covering old standards, get some better songs, cut loose and let the rock and blues rifts flow'. Can you believe it? The arrogant little piss ant! So I say, 'and I suppose you're the kid that's going to help me find better songs?' And he says, 'well, your original stuff ain't bad, the melodies are decent and the lyrics work but the pace of the arrangements sucks.' He's a nice looking kid, but I'm getting pissed. 'And exactly how many hit songs have you cranked out in your young life, sonny?' And then the little shit rattles off a few songs and then he introduces himself and adds, 'you must have a couple of those records on the bus. Go look at who the fuck wrote 'em. Then we can talk about some new shit that I think would fit your style perfectly.' So we hook his car up to the back of the RV, drive all night and rewrite my songs and learn his songs. It was 1996; I got that recording contract. I made CMT Male Vocalist of the Year based almost solely on the album he helped me put together. In 1997 I had my first number one hit with, 'This Ain't No Thinking Thing.' He and I wrote it together that night with him sitting exactly where you have that pretty little butt of yours planted right now. Plus, he's a damn fine entertainer in his own right but if you're new to country you probably don't know that and then he uses a different..."

George returned with his Fender in hand interrupting Trace's monologue. As Trace led the two of them toward the back door of the bar, Bonnie whispered to George.

"Trace tells me you are a bit more successful as a song writer than you let on to me. What gives, handsome?"

"Success is relative, Bonnie. I've written a few songs that did okay on the country charts but I'm not remotely where I want to be musically. A royalty check now and again allows me to experiment, do different things but the best in the music world pour a lot back into their trade. I know I do."

Bonne took her place at a large table down front and introduced herself to the wives and girl friends of the band members. They were all poured into tight jeans and exceptionally hot. She fit right in, at least physically. 'Songs About Me' had her feet tapping. 'Arlington' brought real tears to her eyes. 'I Left Something Turned on at Home' made her chuckle. 'Honky-tonk Badonkadonk' made her want to get up and shake her ass but she resisted the urge. It also made her want some hard fat cock, preferably George Mason's. 

He was a consummate entertainer and an incredible lead guitarist. It was obvious that he and Trace loved performing together. At the end of the set, Trace introduced the band; Trace looked at George; George shook his head. Trace introduced him anyway and it didn't seem to be an issue. Back in the RV, hugs were exchanged and everyone said their goodbyes. Bonnie could have stayed; she was starting to realize that she loved this style of music. George had other musical vistas that he wanted to show her.

Bonnie and George visited a second place in fairly short order. At first, she and George were among only a handful of whites in the club. Bonnie was neither a racist nor a bigot but she was pretty sure her parents were both. The music was classic Delta blues with forays into cool funk. He introduced her to the band during their break. They invited him to sit in on their next number, a very cool jazz number with delightfully funky guitar and bass work. George played the keyboards and Bonnie knew exactly where she wanted those talented fingers before the night was over. They left expressing their regrets and headed back toward, "Paradise Island". She was disappointed as they crossed back over the bridge but at least that meant she'd get her hands and mouth on George Mason's cock shortly. She was wrong.

"Bonnie, I know it's late, but I've got one more gig to sit in on. My trio is actually playing at a little upscale beach club right up the road from where we met earlier. They play dance crap in the earlier sets but after midnight the young dance popper crowd dissipates to go smoke dope and fuck and the club switches to jazz. The crowd becomes a little more sophisticated. It's just scheduled for an hour but we get jamming and sometimes go until two. Are you up for it?"

"I slept in this morning so I'm not remotely tired."

The younger crowd was departing as a decidedly more mature crowd filed in. The guy at the door was nonchalant about granting entrance. Earlier he had been decidedly picky as he screened and admitted only the beautiful people. Bonnie had been here and had hated it. She was prepared to enjoy the jazz set until she saw two couples sitting close to the stage. It was her parents and another couple that she didn't know.

"Oh, shit, my parents are here!" She exclaimed.

"Are you out after curfew? Will they ground you?" George said, chiding her.

"Of course not!" She snapped back before she realized that he was kidding. "Well, I certainly can't ignore them; come on, I'll introduce you. I'll probably have to sit with them for a while at least."

"Mom, dad, this is my friend, George Mason." Her mother and father greeted George and shook his hand. The other couple was far more ebullient. 

"The George Mason? Well, hell you're who we came to hear! We heard you perform a couple of months back in Georgetown. You and your trio were amazing! We're both absolutely obsessive jazz fans. You guys are so refreshing. It's the first legitimately new and unique sound in jazz in the last two decades. We're very honored to meet you. Neither of us could believe you didn't have an album out." 

"We will; we're working on it right now. It's a little avant-garde and it's going to be on a small, private label. As a matter of fact, the acoustics in this room are pretty decent so we hope to lay a couple of tracks down tonight. That's why the management is serving your drinks in plastic. Thank you for your kind words. I better go get ready." 

Bonnie would not let him slip away without a serious hug and kiss which she hoped promised whatever George wanted and might make her parents uncomfortable.

"Where do you and the young man know each other from, dear?"

"It's a long story and you wouldn't believe it. Plus, we've only known each other for a few hours. He's cute, don't you think?"

The other couple was having their own serious discussion. "I didn't notice it until we saw him up close, but doesn't he remind you of someone, someone we've seen somewhere before?" Said Mrs. I-can't-remember-nor-do-I-care-what-her-name-is.

"I'm sure you're mistaken, dear." 

Gratefully everyone shut up as the trio took their places to a very respectable welcoming applause from the audience. George reminded the audience that they were going to attempt to record and to try to keep extraneous noise to a minimum. The rolled directly into a straight up blues number with George on lead guitar. It was as if different fingers were in play than those that had caressed a similar instrument a few hours earlier. There were shades of Beck, Clapton, Muddy Waters and even Hendrix as the set unfolded. George handled the few vocals and it was in a different voice than he sang raucous, bar country. 

It was his virtuosity on the guitar that captivated the crowd. While the opening blues number had sounded familiar it was obvious that everything else was original. George's vocal style was hauntingly authentic to the bluesy genre even on those songs that crossed over into alternative rock. He joked that he wanted to be sure they did at least a couple of songs that stretched the musical tastes of the decidedly more mature audience. They ate it up. He was a relaxed front man who related to every member of the small audience. The trio played a half hour past the planned finale, finally pleading exhaustion. Bonnie was sure that he spoke to everyone in the audience prior to returning to her table.

"Son, you're going to be huge, I guarantee it." Said the male member of the other couple at the table. Even Bonnie's parents were quite taken by his artistry.

"Well sir, the real problem is, and I know you recognize it, that this kind of sound only works with a decidedly small audience. You have to be able to 'talk to the audience' and you can't do that in a big venue. Five hundred is even too many, we know, we've tried it. Hell, we don't even like our own stuff as much when we listen to the playback. Hopefully we're on to something and other musicians will look back fondly on a more intimate and personal style of music. It'll never be a big time money maker. We'll release an album, which we have real trepidation about, and it just won't sound the same as hearing it live. It probably won't attract new fans and those who heard it in real time will assume we just didn't produce it very well. I love it, I'm passionate about it and we'll keep doing it as long as we can afford to."

The other woman spoke up. "Excuse me, George, but I swear I've seen you perform before, other than here or in Georgetown."

"I've, ah, played some other styles of music and other types of venues but, respectfully, I'm not sure that I was playing, 'your kind of music' so I doubt it." George replied, still polite by almost terse. She didn't pursue the point.

"Do you have formal training, Mr. Mason? Your guitar playing is quite extraordinary." Bonnie's mother chimed in.

"Actually, yes, I do. I started out on a decided classical road." George then went on to elaborate on where he had studied and even Bonnie's mother was impressed.

Bonnie was getting bored and wanted to fuck George sooner rather than later. She kissed her mom and dad and told them, almost facetiously, 'not to wait up'. She took George's hand and led him back to his truck

As her parents and the other couple drove home in their respective cars, Mrs. Unknown was sure she had figured out the puzzle. Her husband was sure that she was mistaken.

"Honey, first there is no way that one of the biggest new stars in country music is playing jazz at two in the morning to fewer than a hundred people. Why would he need to do that? He's got Grammys and ACMs and CMAs. Secondly, don't ever let those two stuffed shirts know we listen to country music. They'll never invite us out again. Not that I really give a shit. Their daughter seemed quite taken by the young man and mommy and daddy did not seem pleased. It'll be a moot point in a few weeks when we drive up to Lakeland to hear your favorite country singer in person. Then you'll see that you were wrong."

Bonnie parked her delectable butt tight up against George on the way home; she fondled his cock through his tight jeans to leave no question in his mind what she had in mind. She wanted to blow him there in the truck but she demurred; there'd be time when they got back to the house. She took his hand and led him outside; she would not be denied her open air fuck any longer. Nonchalantly removing her clothes she noted with approval that George needed no additional guidance as he quickly disrobed. She wondered if she would have to be the aggressor, at least at first. She was quickly and pleasantly surprised.

He came to her quickly, surrounding her in his strong arms and vigorously making his intentions clear as he assaulted her mouth and cupped her tight young ass in his hands. He literally picked her up and placed her on the soft cool grass. His mouth worked its way down her lean young body and found her slippery little slot with no directions. She came under his exquisite oral assault quicker than she would have expected. She was prepared to return the favor but George had other ideas. To her delight he flipped her over onto her front, pushing her down into the grass and pinning her with his muscular body. He softly nibbled her neck and reached around to caress her rock hard nipples.

With no warning he was inside her fast and hard and she felt his fuck tool graze the very limits of her female orifice. And then to her delirious pleasure he just rode her like a nasty little bitch in heat, slamming into her with such force that her body literally scooted across the wet grass. All she could think of was the words to one of the few country songs she had heard on the radio. It was a new one by Garth Brooks called, "Good Ride Cowboy". 

He rode her fine young body as no other man had ever done. He owned her; he was laying his masculine claim to her, leaving his unique scent indelibly imprinted on and in her body. It was as if he was wordlessly saying, this bitch is mine, don't even think about it. No man had ever taken her quite like this; she was often the aggressor when it came to fucking. This man was asserting his absolute right to her body now and whenever he wanted it. 

She knew he could do with her as he pleased; even pain was not out of the question nor the giving up of her "other" hole. Not unlike many women, Bonnie seldom came simply from the efforts of a man's cock in her tight little pussy. She came several times under his relentless assault. As she approached her final, long, lingering ride over the top, she was not sure she could take much more; she was almost numb when her lover came with a growl and thrust his sweet prick deep inside her as if attempting to force his seed deeper than any man's had ever been before. She was pretty damn sure he had succeeded in that department. She was also certain that no other man would ever satisfy her sexual needs again.

He rolled her over and picked her up effortlessly. Carrying her inside the house he gently tossed her on his bed. Her fingers dropped to her slimy slit as he stood over her, grinning at his conquest. Retrieving his essence from her cunt with her fingers, she sucked it into her mouth, lewdly rolling her fine young hips and grinning back at him. His damn cock was hard and still standing up at an angle. Climbing to the floor she crawled toward that cock like a submissive little slut who has just been commanded to service her man with her mouth. No command had been uttered. She took his tool to the very depths of her throat almost gagging at the onslaught of male meat. She liked the way the bulbous head felt as it grazed her throat. She began to fuck her own mouth with the big cock at her disposal. 

Then she did what she knew she did as well as any woman on the planet; she blew him. She knew it didn't matter how many other woman had serviced him this way. This was her cock now and she was the best there had ever been. She took him to the edge more times than either could count; and when she was ready on her time table, she made him cum. When he screamed her name in the agony of excruciating pleasure, she knew he would come back for more. As he had owned her body out on the lawn she had owned his cock with her hot little mouth. As the rest of the night went on it would be a contest to decide who owned whom. By the time the sun came up over the stone wall to the east both were convinced it had been a draw.

"Anything else we need to discuss?" He said as he handed her a hot cup of coffee. Neither had bothered to dress.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm positive that no other woman could come close to fulfilling me sexually the way you do so I'm not planning to keep looking. I don't think I need to ask the trite question, 'was it good for you' because I damn well know it was. So what's left? I guess it might be a good idea to find out if we have anything remotely in common, even like each other when we're not fucking, voted the same way in the last election, you know all that trivial and mundane shit."

Bonnie laughed so hard so nearly spilled her coffee. "You cut right to the chase, don't you George?"

"Look, Bonnie, I'm not exactly suggesting that we run down to the court house and get a marriage license. But face it! We make a cute couple and you know we're almost magic from the carnal perspective. I mean, I'm sorry, but I saw the face of God, the earth moved and I was transformed to another dimension."

"You are a crazy man."

"Yep! That's true. I have to say, I was a little disappointed that you didn't remember me. You we're thirteen and I was sixteen almost twelve years ago when I stole that first kiss---your first kiss. But, I was the caretaker's son and you were the rich bitch next door so that wasn't going to work out. Your parents saw something and that ended our budding romance. So, I did what any normal red blooded American teenager does. I took a blood oath that someday you would be mine. I was obsessed with you and hopelessly in love. So what does the boy do? He figures how to get rich himself and then when he is, he comes back and buys the house next door to her parents. Here's the really embarrassing part. I once stalked you as you were walking from one class to another in college. That behavior started to worry me; it only happened one time, your first year as an undergrad."

"Georgie? Little Georgie?"

"Little Georgie. You were a hair taller than me back then; I had a late growth spurt at eighteen. And now you don't even remember your first kiss, which was also my first kiss..."

"I remember the kiss! I had a crush on you. You just don't remotely look the way I remembered you and until this second I confess that I couldn't remember your name. You've carried a torch for me for all of these years? That's a little..."

"Weird? You bet. I haven't remained chaste nor did my infatuation with you and your skinny little thirteen year old body rule my life but I've thought of you often, if not every second of every day. I came down here a few months ago just for old times' sake. I called the realtor who had a listing on this house for a decade and asked to have a look around. I have an extremely aggressive and irritating business manager. I told him I was interested in the house; he thought it might be a good investment for the right price. He drives a very hard bargain. At some level I thought it would be neat to live in the big house that my parents had once cared for. I do have another home, by the way, more than one actually. I had never really forgotten you but had long since grown out of the fantasy of coming back and, 'making you my woman'. Then I saw you a week ago walking down to the beach. I knew it was you the second I saw you. I could just see you when you would walk out to the pool deck but once you laid down in the sun you were out of sight. So there you were, the first love of my life, the object of many a romantic and masturbatory fantasy over the years. And dammit, I was over you! I'd grown up and moved on with my life. I suffer from no lack of willing female companionship. I had been dating someone that might have turned serious. And then I saw you and I was sixteen again. I had no plan. There you were a hundred yards away and I was like a dumb kid. I started working on the rock wall; I enjoy that kind of work. I actually did a paper on that type of authentic structure when I was in college and helped my dad restore a wall on his farm in Pennsylvania so I do know what I'm doing. But somewhere in the back of my mind I thought, maybe she'll see me, maybe she'll say hello. I mean on tour I play to thousands of people every night. I can get lucky without even trying, but..."




Just Say Yes



"Wait a minute! I have two questions. You used to beat off thinking about me? Wow, that, well, I'm okay with that. Did you say on tour playing to thousands of people? I know you're a successful song writer and a talented musician, but..."

"George Mason is my name. It's the name I use when I'm playing to fifty or a hundred people. I write under that name, well, actually I write under both names. It's not the name I use when I'm performing country music to five thousand people. Well, I didn't change my first name, that would have gotten too damn confusing, just my last name. It wouldn't have mattered if you had known my stage name, you don't listen to country. Look, hold on. Don't go anywhere."

George came back a few minutes later with a stack of CD's. "Here you go!" He said as he began tossing the jewel boxes on the bed. "Platinum and a Grammy, platinum and an ACM, platinum, double platinum, triple platinum, album of the year at the CMAs and platinum but it's my latest so it's got more growth potential."

"Are you shitting me? No, you're not! That's you on the front of the CD. You look silly in that hat. I may not listen to country but even I've heard of you. Hell I read about you in Time magazine! You're the biggest new country artist in the last decade!"


"There you go!"

"Well, fuck me!"

"I'd love to, but I just have the sense that we still have some talking to do."

"Okay."

"I'll start. You stole my heart when you were thirteen. I got over it. Then I saw you again and you had me again. Then we, 'knew each other' in the biblical sense and well, I've already told you; the earth moved. I want to spend time with you. I want us to spend time together. Maybe we're wrong for each other, long term, 'til death us do part kind of wrong. Let's find out."

"Okay? No, let me try again. Okay! I'm very okay with that idea Now I have another idea. Get your naked ass back in bed. You almost but not quite made love to me earlier this morning. I have no quibbles with the fucking part...it was out of this world. Now you need to show me you can make love to me."

It was noon by the time Bonnie and George completed the last phase of their experimental love making. It worked out quite well for both of them.

"You're very scary, George." Bonnie said, climbing back into his strong arms. "I'm twenty-four years old---almost twenty-five. You need to know up front that I like to fuck...I enjoy cock. But you are the first man that's ever done that to me. Pretty funny, huh? Funny that you'd be the first one to kiss me and the first one to ever, ever really make love to me." Bonnie whispered as her joyfully tears flowed across her lover's chest. "I'm staying."

"Good answer." 

Bonnie spent most of her nights and days over the next few weeks with George, to the mild consternation of her parents. She had not told then who the real George was. The two lovers quickly discovered that there was nothing serious that would preclude them from spending a very long time together. Bonnie had money; George had a hell of a lot more.

She convinced her folks to drive up to Lakeland for the country concert. It would be a chance to do something together as a family. She had told them that George knew someone involved in the show; it would mean a lot to him if they came and he had acquired special tickets for them. They had invited the other couple they had recently become friends with who 'fessed up that they were ardent country music fans. Bonnie was sitting in the third row of seats in the gas guzzling SUV her parents drove. As her father contemplated where to park, Bonnie handed him the special parking pass and that problem was solved. 

They arrived fairly close to show time; Bonnie wanted to stretch it out to the last possible second. The opening act nailed their set and then the roadies reset the stage for the main event. Their seats were so close that they were almost on the stage. The older folks were very impressed with George's obvious clout. The lights dimmed and the announcer introduced the headliner.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Three time Grammy, five time ACM and seven time CMA award winner, direct from Nashville Tennessee, with more album sales in the last five years than any artist in country music history, please welcome..." The thundering ovation drowned out the last part of the introduction. 

It didn't matter. Almost everyone in the amphitheatre knew who he was. He came on stage and removed his hat in honor of his fans. She heard the female half of the other couple who had journeyed with them exclaim, "I told you it was him!" She heard her mother gasp and her father almost choke. And there he was up there in that not so silly hat barely ten feet away. He tipped his hat to her, and whispered, "hi babe!" Heads turned to look at her and she was the proudest little girl in the whole damn place. She mouthed the words, "I love you" and blew him a kiss and he returned the gesture.

As he had owned her body that first night and now clearly owned her heart, he quickly did what he had done hundreds of other nights; before the first song was finished he owned every one of those five thousand delirious fans. Even her mom and dad were smiling and moving to the music. She chucked to herself at the thought of her mother and father as country music fans. It was the most special and wonderful night of Bonnie's life. She was so proud of George and even more proud that she was his girl.

George had figured out in the past how to keep the fans in their seats for the two encores. His fans knew that the last song of the final encore would be special; it would be a new and unreleased song, one destined to be his next major hit.

The lights came up and George began his anticipated chat with the audience. "You got to listen to us sing for the last two and a half hours, now I get to tell a story." The crowd cheered.

"When I was a kid, my parents were the caretakers of this big old house on the south Florida coast. We didn't really get to live in the house; we lived over the four car garage. The owners were never home; I used to play hide and seek in that house with the kids in the neighborhood...the rich kids. Well, one day, as boys will do, I stole a kiss from the little girl next door. It was my first kiss...hers too. Her parents didn't really approve so they wouldn't let her play anymore. I remembered that kiss for a very long time...still do as a matter of fact. I used to dream about growing up someday and marrying that sweet little girl. But she was from a different side of town even though we were sort of neighbors." The crowded cheered and whistled, totally engrossed in the yarn.

"A little while back I went down and got a chance to look through that old house; no one had lived in it in years and it needed a lot of work. My manager suggested that it might be a good investment. So I bought it and I'm fixing it up. I was out in the yard working one day and a young woman walked by on her way to the beach. It was her; I knew it in a second, though she didn't recognize me. Right this minute, she's sitting ten feet in front of me with her folks. Her name is Bonnie. This last song is our story; it's about Bonnie and me. With your permission I'd like dedicate it---and sing it---to her right now. It's called, 'Just Say Yes'."

Bonnie was in shock and could not hold back her tears. It was so much more than just their story; it was a love story about a young boy's yearnings, hopes and dreams. It was unmistakably a man telling a special woman that he loved her, always had and always would. The hook was in the last verse for it was in fact a proposal and a pledge to be faithful, "til death do us part". And the final almost pleading line delivered so plaintively, so beautifully in George's unique style, was a plea to the woman he loved to, "Just Say Yes." Everyone came to their feet. Bonnie was still standing as the rest of the audience found their seat. The room grew almost deathly silent.

"Yes." Bonnie said; she had thought just to him but in fact everyone in the quiet hall heard her and they went nuts.

George bounded off the stage, throwing his hat to some fan in the process. He took the first girl he had ever kissed in his arms and kissed her. He had a ring in his hand; he look questioningly toward her parents. They nodded. He slipped the special ring on Bonnie's finger and the crowd erupted again. Picking her up, he placed her on the stage and jumped up to join her. Taking her by the hand he led her to the microphone.

"Folks, this is Bonnie. She just said yes! Thank you for coming out tonight, everybody. I wouldn't be here without you. God bless you all."

George held Bonnie tightly in his arms and kissed every inch of her face. "I love you."

"Yeah, I kinda feel the same way about you. Nothing like letting five thousand people in on a marriage proposal! You certainly have a flare for the dramatic---but I love you to death!"

"Five thousand? This is a live pay per view on HBO and it's being beamed to our armed forces around the world---and it's going to DVD. Thirty million is more like it. How's it feel to be a star?"

"I think I'll stick to letting you be the star. I just want to be the star's woman. Are you okay with that, cowboy?"

"Dreams do come true, sometimes, don't they baby?" George whispered to his love.

"Mine just did, big fella, mine just did."