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Airstream Dreams

By: coaster2



Authors Note: This story is pure fiction and/or fantasy. We all have dreams, and this is just one of them from my warped mind while I was trying to clean my hands after working on the lawnmower. 

*

Chapter 1 Getting out of Dodge

It's strange how sometimes the worst kind of crap that falls on you can turn into an opportunity for something that you might think is the best. That's just how it works now and then, and that's just how it worked for me.

Anyway you slice it, divorce is the shits. No matter how badly you want to get rid of your spouse, the whole process is set up to humiliate and aggravate, not to mention skinning you of every dime either your ex or the lawyers can extract. Looking back on it, I guess I got off better than some, but probably no better than average. I ended up being Carl McCormick, single father, living two thousand miles from my home and my two sons.

My ex-wife, Sharise, was getting more and more unhappy, and was taking it out on me and the boys. I had asked her a number of times what the problem was, but never got an answer I could understand. She was just unhappy. I asked her if I was the problem and after hemming and hawing, she admitted I was. Apparently I wasn't living up to her version of the American Dream and I was disappointing her. 

Sharise and I had married when I got her pregnant after we had been dating for several months. She was supposedly on the pill, but I guess they aren't foolproof, so I was going to be a daddy. I was raised to accept my responsibilities and so I told Sharise we would be getting married. I'm not so sure she was all for the idea, but she went along with it when her parents put some pressure on.

We were both nineteen, and I was just beginning my way to earning my mechanics ticket through the apprentice program, so we weren't exactly rolling in money. We were living in her parent's basement to start with. Sharise didn't want to work since she was pregnant and I couldn't argue with her, so I started burning the candle at both ends. I was serving my apprenticeship during the day and moonlighting at a service station at night. Between the two jobs, we made enough to get by, but only just.

When Charles was born, I was a pretty happy father. I had a son and he would be my pride and joy. I spent all the spare time I had with him, helping Sharise everywhere I could. I got pretty good at changing diapers and feeding him his bottle in the middle of the night. What little sleep I got was in fits and starts.

Little Chuck wasn't a year old when Sharise found out she was pregnant again. She was not pleased, but wouldn't even consider getting rid of the baby. I was glad of that. When Lawrence was born, I had two sons and I couldn't have been any happier than if I'd won the lottery. It was a tough pregnancy for Sharise being so soon after her first one, so once again, I had to help out with both boys.

When I look back on it, I figure that's why the boys and I have always been tight. I think I must have held them, and changed them, and fed them, and read stories to them more than Sharise ever did, so it was only natural they'd be close to me. No matter how tired I was from lack of sleep or long hours at work, I would always find the energy to look after my boys.

Sharise told me straight out that she wasn't going to have sex with me any more until I got "fixed." So, against my better judgment, I got the snip job done to prevent any more accidents. I couldn't complain, really. I had two fine sons and every day that I looked at them and watched them grow I found I was more and more proud of them.

Now I don't want you getting the idea that Sharise was a poor mother. She wasn't. She was good to the boys and made sure they were fed and clothed and later on when they were in school, she'd help with their homework too. If she had one problem, it was that she wasn't a good cook. In fact, she was terrible in the kitchen, so more often than not, we would have store-bought dinners or fast-food takeout stuff. Not exactly health food, but we all survived.

I'm a pretty big guy at six-foot-two and about two hundred pounds. I work hard and don't have the time or the inclination to drink a lot of beer, so between my two jobs and looking after the boys, I stayed in pretty good shape. As I watched the boys grow, I could see they were going to be big like me and I wasn't wrong. Now at almost seventeen, Chuck was already my height, but not as heavy, and Larry was almost six foot and a bit bigger boned. They were going to be big dudes when they were full grown.

Sharise is a good looking woman. I didn't get no booby prize when I chose her. She was five-foot-six and even after giving birth to the boys, she didn't weigh much more than the one-twenty when I married her. Pretty good boobs and a nice ass. All around, she was a fine looking woman.

I got my HDM ticket when Chuck was six and just starting school. I was finally able to quit my second job and get a regular night's sleep. I did work some overtime, but not so much that it cut into our family life. We could now go out to the movies, or to a proper restaurant for a meal once in a while. As time went on and I started earning more money, things got better again.

Sharise didn't want to work, but I didn't mind since that would mean she was home with the boys and looking after them full time. She did want a car to get around in, though. I had my truck, but I needed that for my work, so I went looking for something to buy that wouldn't break the bank and still make my wife happy. I found a nice, clean Honda Accord that I thought was perfect for her and took her down to see it.

She didn't want any part of that car. She said it was an "old ladies car" and flat out refused to drive it. Well, she took a walk around the lot and wouldn't you know, she spotted a Ford Explorer that struck her fancy. I knew right off that it was going to be a couple of thousand more than I wanted to spend, but I couldn't get her off the idea. She said that it wasn't just a car, but a practical necessity. In the end, you guys know who wins those arguments, don't you. She drove the Explorer home with me following behind. I'd be working some weeks of overtime to pay for this one.

Our life went along pretty good, I thought. When Chuck was in grade four, me and Sharise had been married ten years and we had a little celebration with our family and went down to Disney World. I knew Sharise wanted to go there, so it was an easy choice. It was the first proper vacation we'd ever had outside of visiting my parents in Ohio each summer. They live on a farm and the boys always liked going there in the summer. Sharise wasn't all that thrilled, but didn't have any better ideas at the time.

After Disney World, she started in about proper vacations every year. I was making pretty good money with my overtime; usually over fifty thousand per. We owned a small three bedroom house just on the outside of town and my wife had the freedom to get around in her SUV when she wanted to. She joined the fitness center and started going there twice a week in the evenings. I guess she met up with some other women there, and once in a while, they'd go out and have a drink or two before coming home.

A couple of years ago, I noticed she was getting a bit later getting home and I talked to her about it. I was worried that she might be drinking too much and driving and she didn't need a DUI on her record. She took my words to heart and said she wouldn't drink more than one before changing to soda or coffee. I felt better about that.

Well, I guess I was being played for a fool for some time. The boys got wind of it first. They spotted her riding around town in her Explorer with another guy in the front seat. When they asked her who he was, she got all fussed about it, and wouldn't tell them, just that he was someone she was giving a ride to. They didn't make a big deal of it with her, and they didn't tell me either.

A couple of weeks later Chuck saw their mother and the same guy in a restaurant, looking quite friendly. He was on his way to work at the grocery store when he walked by the window of the restaurant, he saw them in there and waved. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with Sharise that evening, but she was upset about something. When Chuck got in from work just after seven, she got even jumpier.

Sometime later, I guess she got with Chuck and let him know there was nothing going on with her and that fellow she saw her with. They were just having a coffee and talking and please don't mention it to your father. Well, Chuck isn't stupid and he figured something was up, so naturally he came to the one person he could trust to give him advice -- me.

I told him to leave it with me and not say anything to Larry, but I was too late for that. He'd already mentioned it to his brother, so I talked to both of them and said I would handle it and not to say anything to their mother. I had a sick feeling about what might be going on, but I wanted to know for sure. When I thought about it, the only time Sharise could "entertain" a boyfriend was when the boys were in school and I was at work. I decided to do a little detective work on my own.

It was only about fifteen minutes from the shop to home and it was easy for me to take off at lunch and drive home to see if there was anything suspicious going on. The first couple of days there was no sign that things weren't normal. I could peek in the side window and see through to the kitchen and I could see Sharise having her lunch by herself, so I assumed everything was okay. I parked in the back lane so she wouldn't know I was around, and once I was sure she was by herself, I went back to work.

After three days I'd come to the conclusion that if she was fooling around, she was doing it after the boys left for school, or after lunch. Either way, she had a couple of hours free and clear. When I thought about it some more, I figured I needed a couple more clues to help me out, but I was damned if I knew what they would be. Then, one clue fell out of the mailbox.

Our phone bill always showed the numbers called and the number calling. Sharise always paid the bill promptly and I don't know what she did with the statement, but it wasn't lying around. I waited until she went out shopping on Saturday before I started to look. I found her stack of statements for gas, electric, water, and telephone in the back of her side of the closet. They were all put away neatly in a shoe box. I pulled out the last four phone statements and sat down to look at them.

I knew some of the numbers by heart, of course. The boys' cell phones, her cell phone, my cell phone, the home number, the shop number, and a couple of her friends. There were four other numbers I didn't recognize, so I copied them down and put the statements back where I found them. I figured the simplest way to find out who those numbers belonged to was to call them.

The first number I dialed was the drug store. No problem, I just hung up telling them it was a wrong number. The second number turned out to be the exercise place. Again, wrong number and I hung up. The third number didn't answer, but the voice mail picked up.

"Hello, this is the Phillipson residence. I can't take your call right now, so please leave a number and I'll call you back."

I hung up. I didn't know anyone named Phillipson and I don't ever recall Sharise mentioning that name either. Suspect number one! 

I dialed the fourth number and it turned out to be our doctor. I can't remember Sharise or the boys having a doctor's appointment, but if she did, my medical insurance statement would show it. The call had been made two months ago. I took a chance and called the doctor's office back.

"Hello, this is Carl McCormick calling. I've just been going over my Health Insurance statement and I found a charge I couldn't remember what for. Can you help me?"

"What is your insurance number, Mr. McCormick?"

I read it off to her and told her the date of the phone call.

"We don't have any charge for that date, but there was one for Mrs. McCormick a few days later."

"Can you tell me what it was for?"

"Certainly. It was for a gynecological examination for fitting an I.U.D."

"I see. Well, that clears it up. Thanks for all your help," I said, hanging up.

I should know what an I.U.D. was, but I wasn't sure. Easy enough to find out. I went to our computer and "googled" it. That's when I knew I was in trouble. It was a birth control device, and since I'd already had a vasectomy, she wasn't worried about me getting her pregnant. It was for someone else. 

I sat in the living room for a while, feeling sick and defeated. There wasn't much doubt now that she was having an affair. It was a matter of where and when and who with. I wouldn't be satisfied until I knew the answers to all those questions, so I got up and went out to my truck and took off for town.

I stopped at a Radio Shack and talked to a guy about recording telephone calls and how hard it was to hook something up. Turns out it wasn't hard at all, and the machine wasn't that expensive either. I bought it and took it home and installed it in the basement. We only had one phone line, but there was an extension in the basement and I used that to hook up the recorder. Sharise never went near my workshop for fear of getting dirty, so I wasn't worried about her discovering it.

I had a hell of a time acting normal around my wife. I knew, or at least I was pretty sure that she was cheating on me. The I.U.D. was the most damning evidence, but I was hoping the rest of the unanswered questions would be looked after by the telephone recorder. It wasn't a perfect plan since she had a cell phone, but it was a start.

I didn't get a chance to check the recorder on Monday night, so I waited until she went to her exercise class on Tuesday before I got to it. It didn't take me long to have my worst fears confirmed. His name was Soren Phillipson and he worked at the exercise place. As far as I could tell, they had been meeting about twice a week during the afternoons and this had been going on for about two months. What I didn't know was where they met.

I looked up Phillipson in the phone book and found only one S. Phillipson listed, with an address that I copied down. It looked like an apartment number, but I thought I would drive over there and find out. Sure enough, it was one of those cheap, three storey wood frame buildings with about twelve apartments. I couldn't see any sign of Sharise's Explorer in the parking lot, so I walked into the lobby and checked the mail boxes. S. Phillipson was in apartment 303, which I assumed was the top floor. 

I was about to leave when an older gentleman came out of the elevator and walked to the mail boxes.

"Excuse me, Sir," I said politely. "Do you know if a Mrs. Jane Phillipson is the wife of S. Phillipson? I have a delivery for her."

"You must have the wrong address, Mister. Soren lives by himself. There is no Mrs. Phillipson as far as I know."

"Oh. Looks like there's been a screw-up. I better go back to the office and see if I can get it straightened out. Thanks for your help."

I walked back to the car. So Soren was a single guy. One more piece of information. I was now guessing that they were meeting at this apartment, and I would stake it out the next time they planned to meet. I was sure I'd get that information off the phone recorder, and I was right. They had their next session set up for Thursday afternoon. 

I had no problem getting Thursday afternoon off for a doctor's appointment. I was surprised that I wasn't raging mad at my wife for her cheating ways. I felt more sad than anything. I had already decided I was going to divorce her; that was for certain now. I wasn't going to let her get away with this without letting her know I knew.

I waited until a little after two before I drove to Phillipson's apartment building and walked up the stairs to the third floor. A quick look told me that there was no one in the hallway and I parked myself across from the door to 303. I had what seemed like a long wait. I didn't hear anyone inside until almost three-thirty when it sounded like someone was coming near the door.

I moved along the hallway just off the knob side of the door. I wanted my surprise to be complete. The door opened and there was my wife in a lip-lock with some guy I'd never seen before. He had his hands on her ass and was squeezing her cheeks pretty good before they broke apart. Sharise kissed him once more, then turned to walk down the hall and ran straight into me.

"Oh, fuck!" she said, startled at seeing me appear out of nowhere.

I saw Phillipson standing in the doorway, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Who are you?" he said, trying to be a tough guy.

"I'm this slut's husband for the time being. You can have her back when I'm done with her."

"Carl, what are you talking about? I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"Based on what I saw just now between you and your pal Soren, I'd say you were doing everything wrong, Sharise. And don't try and tell me nothing was happening in his apartment for the last two hours. I know better."

I got the impression Soren had sized me up and decided I was far too big to pick an argument with, so he just stood there in the doorway to see what was going to happen next.

I took Sharise's purse from her and grabbed her keys. I removed the house key and then handed them back to her with the purse.

"Don't come home, Sharise. You aren't welcome there. Get yourself a lawyer. You're going to need one. If you want your shit, it'll be in the garage. Your opener will still work until I change the code tomorrow at six o'clock. Don't phone me or the boys. Oh ... by the way. It was the boys who busted you. How does that make you feel?"

I'm not one for denial. I had to accept that the marriage was dead, so I got ahold of a lawyer and he filed the papers on Sharise, citing irreconcilable differences to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Sharise never tried to talk to me and must have pretty well figured out I wasn't the forgiving kind. 

As usual in a no-fault state, there are no winners -- only losers. Sharise never worked a day in her life as far as I knew. I made good money and she spent as much or more of it as she could. I was working overtime just to keep up with her. Now, she was going to need to get herself a job and it was going to be a big shock to her.

When we got to family court, that's when I got screwed, having to pay her alimony and letting her back in the house. The child support was no problem, but she wouldn't be handling it and she could damn well whistle for alimony. I kind of knew the lay of the land when it came to family court, so I wasn't caught by surprise. 

In my case, she got half my retirement, half the house, half our savings, and half of our cars. Throw in the child support and alimony, and needless to say, I came out the loser financially, despite the fact that she cheated and freely admitted it. When all was said and done, she must have gotten some satisfaction for a couple of weeks until I quit my job and left town.

They don't put out all points bulletins for runaway exs, not even me. That's what I've become, a runaway ex. Sharise made a big stink about looking after our boys, Chuck and Larry, even though at sixteen and fifteen they pretty much look after themselves. If they're lucky, she won't poison them with her cooking. So when she figures out that I've taken my truck, my share of the savings and checking account, and left town without a goodbye, not to mention no alimony or child support check for her, she'll know how it feels to be really screwed.

I didn't worry about the house. The mortgage isn't big, but there isn't enough equity to amount to anything, so it's all hers, complete with payments and my blessing. The boys can look after themselves as long as she feeds them and gives them a bed to sleep in. I reckon they'll give Sharise a hard time for a while. As far as they were concerned, I was a great dad.


Airstream Dreams



I told Chuck and Larry about my plans, and they were all for it. Getting the old lady off her ass and out looking for a job would be a start. I told them that if they couldn't hack it, to call me on my new cell phone and let me know. I'd swing by and pick them up and all three of us would be gone.

I know it sounds like I'm leaving the boys without any financial support, but that's just not so. I set up an account that Chuck could access and put a thousand dollars in it. It was going to have to last them at least a month until I found a job and could send them some more. I'd already looked after the rest of the household bills. I was going to make sure that the money I was supposed to pay in child support wasn't going anywhere near my ex-wife. Knowing her, the boys would be lucky to see half of it while she spent the rest on herself.

Chuck and Larry were in on the deal, of course, and sworn to secrecy. They really wanted to stay in our home town since that's where all their friends were (including girl friends of course), and where they'd gone to school their whole lives. So, as long as Sharise didn't abuse them or make them suffer, I would make sure they were going to be okay. Chuck had a part-time job after school and on Saturdays at the grocery store, so he had some cash. Larry wasn't old enough to get a real job yet, so he did odd jobs in the neighborhood.

Earlier that week, I had moved half our checking account and savings to a new account I opened in my name, along with a new credit card. I also cancelled our only credit card that was in both our names. There was only about a hundred dollars on it, so it was no big deal, but I didn't want her running up a bunch of new charges on it, just the same.

Now if this sounds like a real loosey-goosey plan, you're wrong. I had this deal all figured out. Remember I told you that sometimes good comes with the bad. All my days I had wanted to own an Airstream motorhome. Well, a little looking on the internet turned up several for sale, but the one that caught my eye wasn't that far away.

I horse-traded with a guy over in Duluth, Minnesota who wanted to sell his '89 Airstream 325 motorhome. I would swap him my '05 Silverado Heavy Duty straight up for the motorhome. It was a good deal for me, since he'd been looking for only $30k for the Airstream. It had a nearly-new Cummins turbo diesel, new tires, refurbished kitchen, and all the accessories you could ever want. I phoned the old guy who was selling it after his wife died and we cut a deal. Of course, it was all conditional on both the motorhome and my truck being "as advertised." 

I quit my job over the protests of my boss who was all set to give me a raise. I felt bad about that, but when I explained what was going on with my life, he understood. He didn't like it, but he understood. I got my holiday pay along with my regular paycheck and put them in my new personal account.

I packed my stuff, said a tearful goodbye to Chuck and Larry, and headed out to Minnesota to pick up my Airstream. I arrived the next day and the old fellow took me out to see it. It was in perfect shape and everything he said about it was true. I was nearly dizzy with excitement and it was all I could do to calm down enough to listen as he told me how things worked and what they were for. Why, he'd even taken the trouble to write all this stuff down so if I did forget and got myself into problems, I'd have something to help me along the way.

I hated to part with my Silverado, but owning an Airstream had been an almost life-long dream of mine. Ever since I saw the very first one I knew that was the machine that someday I wanted to have. Now that dream had come true, although it was mixed up with a nightmare at the same time. It's a shame they don't make them any more.

It took me a while to get used to the big unit, but every hour I spent in it told me I'd made the smartest deal I'd ever done. All I needed now was a job that I could make some decent money at and I'd be doing fine. I've got my ticket as a heavy duty mechanic and the way I look at it, guys like me are always in demand. It's just that the demand wouldn't be in my home town. 

As it turned out, I found a job with the Union Pacific Railroad in Hermiston, Oregon. Twenty-five bucks an hour is nothin' to sneeze at, and the town was a half-decent place to live, so I applied and lo-and-behold, I got the job.

Chuck and Larry kept me informed on my cell phone and by e-mail on how they were doing. Seemed like they were okay so far. Sharise had spent most of her time trying to find a job that paid more than Walmart. One thing for sure, she didn't have any time or money to be screwin' around in some tavern or dance hall. Finally, she got a job at one of the box plants working in the shipping department.

In the meantime, I was doing fine in Hermiston. I rented a serviced space for the Airstream and got set up to use it as a mobile bachelor pad. It had quick disconnects for the power, water, and sewer, so I could drive it to work or cut out for a weekend getaway whenever I wanted. It was a whole hell of a lot cheaper than renting an apartment. 

Chapter 2 Getting Settled

Things went along just fine for the first five months. When I looked at my paycheck with all the overtime I was willing to work, I would make over $70K my first year, more than I'd been making in my home town. That gave me a lot of freedom and I kind of hoped I wouldn't have to move if Sharise or the courts didn't find out where I was. 

They don't have much of a winter out here in Oregon compared to Sheboygan, Wisconsin. Oh, it got cold and a bit of snow and some wind, but it was a piece of cake compared to anywhere near Lake Michigan. The boys and I kept in touch, and so far they were getting along okay with their mother. It was coming up to the end of the school year and Chuck had his job full-time for the summer as vacation relief. That along with the money I was putting in his account was looking after him and Larry just fine.

In the meantime, Sharise was working full-time at the box plant and was now getting a month of afternoon shifts every second month, from three to midnight. That put a crimp in her social life and the boys said she was forever moaning about not having a personal life any more. There was no sign of the guy Chuck had seen her with.

Along about May, Sharise started putting the squeeze on Chuck about where the money was coming from. I knew that was going to happen sooner or later. The fact that the boys were buying their own clothes and school supplies must have finally clued her in. She's a bit slow on the uptake I figure. Anyway, Chuck had been prepared with the standard answer: Pop was sending them money directly since he didn't trust Sharise not to spend it on herself.

Well, that went over like a turd in a punch bowl. She first off started to try and get them paying room and board. When they refused, she tried to get the bank to put the money in her account, but naturally, they refused. Then she went to a lawyer to see if he could do anything about it, and sure enough, no dice! Now she was really pissed and began to take it out on the boys.

I figured this might happen, so I bought one of those throwaway phones and called her one night.

"Sharise, if you're going to treat the boys bad, I'm going to call social services on you. You won't like that one little bit. You treat them right or I'll scoop them right out from under you. You don't want to hurt your own children. That ain't going to fly with me. You hear me?"

"Go ahead, you asshole. You haven't sent me a single dime in alimony or child support since you left. There's a court order out there on you and when they find you, you're going to jail."

"They aren't going to waste their time trying to find me. In the meantime, I can prove I've been putting more than the court ordered amount of child support in their account so you can't get your thieving hands on it. How do you think the court will take that when it comes out? There's no way in hell I'm going to reward your cheating ass with alimony so long as you can get a job." 

"You're just another criminal, Carl. Don't matter what I did, the courts say you gotta pay, so you gotta pay. You want to be on the run for the rest of your life?"

"Here's the bad news, Sharise. I don't give a shit what the court says. I'm not paying you dime one, and if you try and squeeze it out of the boys, I'll use that same court system on you. You think they'll take money away from the boys to give it to you? No chance in hell, woman. No chance at all."

"They're going to catch up to you one day, Carl. Then you'll be sorry. You can't hide forever."

"We'll see about that. In the meantime, you lay off Chuck and Larry or I'll fix it so you're the one that's going to be sorry. All it takes is an anonymous phone call to Family Services and you'll be getting the word real quick."

I'd had about enough of her threats and I hung up without saying anything. She'd been warned and I'd be checking with the boys to make sure she quit giving them a hard time. I figured I had the upper hand, so I wasn't too worried. I was about a month away from earning some vacation time, so if worse came to worst, I could go rescue them using the plan we had talked about when I set up my escape.

I guess Sharise wasn't paying attention when I told her what I'd do if she caused the boys any more trouble. She was trying every trick in the book to get some money out of them, taking to stealing it out of their wallets at night when they were sleeping. It didn't take long for Chuck to let me know what she was doing, even though they had a plan to hide their "walking around money" from her.

I'd had about enough, so I called a lady friend of mine and asked her for a favor. She was worried she might get in trouble, but when I explained that there was a hundred bucks in it for her, she went along with it. She phoned Child Protective Services and said she knew of a family that wasn't treating their children right and then told them what I told her to say. Naturally, she didn't give her name for fear she would get in trouble with the mother, so she hung up as soon as she finished her little talk.

I waited a week before I called Chuck and he said he was glad I called because Sharise was really pissed with them, figuring they told me what she was doing stealing their money and I called CPS and ratted her out. I told Chuck and then Larry that they were to hang tough for another two weeks and if she didn't calm down then I'd come and get them. I worried that she might do something stupid, but I wasn't able to get away right then, so it was necessary they delay her.

As it turned out, their mother did calm down a bit after she convinced the CPS that she was a fit mother and would no longer take money from them. Chuck had provided the case worker with a complete bank statement to show that I was living up to the court-ordered amount of child support. I just wasn't giving it to their mother to squander on herself.

All this plus receipts for clothing, food, and school items that I told Chuck to keep were enough to convince the authorities that they weren't spending the money on unnecessary things either. In fact, when Sharise was on afternoon shift, Chuck often did the shopping, paying for it out of the money I sent. Naturally, he shopped at his own place of employment.

When the dust settled, it seemed like a truce had been declared between the boys and their mother. Both Chuck and Larry said she had calmed down and was almost nice to them. I wondered if she wasn't just scheming for another way to get at the money, but that's just me not trusting her. Can you blame me?

After two weeks we decided to leave things as they were. Chuck was busy with his summer job, and Larry was working around the neighborhood doing odd jobs like cutting lawns and trimming hedges, cleaning up garages, and moving things for some of the older folks. I was proud of my boys. They didn't sit on their asses and play Nintendo. 

Larry was going to be sixteen this summer and was anxious to get his conditional drivers license. State laws were getting tougher and tougher for teens, with all the horrible accidents and deaths that had taken place over the years. He would have to wait until he was sixteen years and nine months before he could get his license, and only then if he had passed the school sponsored program and stuck with it. Otherwise, he'd have to wait until he was eighteen. 

I wish I could have been there for them at this time. I was hoping Sharise would find somebody to look after her and keep her from hassling the boys. It wouldn't be that long before our sons were adults in the eyes of the law and they could make their own decisions. I'd talked to them about this a number of times. 

I know Larry wanted to go on to college and if there was any way I could help him I would. He was a smart kid and always did really well in school, so maybe he could apply for a scholarship or some kind of financial assistance. I'd hate to think money would keep him from getting a good education.

Chuck had been offered a management training course by the grocery chain he worked for. I guess they really liked his attitude and hard work, so that would give him a leg up on a career. I felt good about that. Both the boys were like me in that respect. They were willing to work for what they got. That's what made their mother's dumping me so hard on all of us. She wanted something for nothing, and I wasn't going to let that happen.

Things settled down over the summer both at my old home and my new one. My divorce was final, so the only issue really was back alimony, and they could go piss up a rope before I'd pay that woman anything. Mind you, there hadn't been any hint that anyone was looking for me, so I just quit worrying about it.

Almost every weekend I would take the Airstream and head for some interesting place that wasn't too far away. On the Memorial Day long weekend, I drove up to Wenatchee and stayed in the town of Leavenworth for two days. It was like a little Swiss alpine town, except it was in the middle of Washington. I got a crash course in driving two lane mountain highways and it was good to know I could manage it without getting myself or anyone else in danger.

On the July 4th weekend, I headed out for Portland. There was a blues festival I wanted to see, so I took advantage of the early start and hit the I-84 and pushed the Airstream all the way to the big city. I was getting more and more comfortable driving that machine. It handled great and the turbo diesel gave it plenty of power over the mountain passes. It was over 33 feet long counting the bike carrier. Oh yeah, I bought a 125 Yamaha for getting around on. I got it for next to nothing because it wasn't running. A few dollars and a couple of parts and I had it running like a charm. But then, that's what I do for a living.

The thing about my job that always is noticeable is that I have a hell of a time getting the oil and grime out of my hands. It's kind of like a coal miner has a hard time getting rid of the dust from the skin on his face. It looks like he never washes. Well, in one way, that's the kind of problem I have with my hands. I've tried every known brand of industrial hand cleaner, but none of them will remove all the residue without taking some of my skin with it. 

Yeah, I've tried gloves, but that doesn't work either. I have to have "feel" in my hands to do my job properly, especially when I'm working with smaller parts in tricky spots. Some of the cleaners are pretty good, but they leave my hands in bad shape, dry and red. My doctor says I just have to keep trying to find the right combination of cleaner and something that won't damage my skin. Thanks a lot, doc.

It's really only a big deal if I'm out on the prowl, looking for some female company. No woman wants to be pawed by a guy with dirty, rough hands. So, for the last while I hadn't had even a thought about finding myself a friendly lady. Not that I wasn't ready, willing, and able, you know. 

So when this fellow comes around to our shop with a new hand-cleaner product that he says will leave my skin as soft as a baby's ass and cleaner than new, well I was paying close attention. Now mind you, I'd heard these claims before, but when you've tried as many as I have, you don't stop looking for that silver bullet that will do the job.

The stuff was called Loving Hands, if you can imagine it. Now, I almost didn't bother with the free trial jar on account of that name, but I figured sooner or later somebody was going to come up with a cleaner that would work and I wanted to be at the head of the line when it showed up. This funny looking old geezer was the representative and had a case of the stuff, handing it out to all the mechanics and guys who, like me, spent most of their days with their hands in grease, dirt, and oil. Apparently, we were the first people to use this stuff.

I waited until my shift ended and then opened the jar and scooped some of this yellowy goop out with my fingers. I rubbed it all around and made sure it hit all the grimy skin, let it set for a couple of minutes like the instructions recommended, then washed it off in the clean-up trough like usual.

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. I looked at my hands as close as I could, and there wasn't any sign of dirt anywhere, including under my fingernails. It was amazing. And what was even more amazing, they were soft as a baby's ass, just like he said they would be. Now, they did have a peculiar smell that I didn't recognize. It wasn't a bad smell, or a chemical kind of smell, but it wasn't like a flower either. Anyway, if that was the only thing about this stuff that was unusual, I could live with it. 

I walked into the foreman's office quick as I could.

"Say, Marvin, did that fellow with the hand cleaner leave a card where we could get ahold of him?"

"Sure, he left a bunch, but you better hurry callin' him. Just about every guy who tried that stuff wants some more. Looks like he's got hisself a winner."

"Damn sure he has," I said. 

I picked up the business card and headed out the door to my truck. Oh yeah, I bought a '78 Ford pick-up from a local fellow who was fed up trying to fix it. It took me one weekend to get it running good and I had cheap transportation for next to nothing. Between the Yamaha, the truck, and the Airstream, I was well fixed for vehicles.

Anyway, I looked at the card and the guys name was Merlin Wiseman. I kid you not, as old Jack Parr would say. Well, maybe it was a phony name and maybe it wasn't, but one thing for sure, that goopy stuff of his worked like a hot damn. I gave him a call as soon as I got back to the Airstream.

"Say there, Mr. Wiseman, my name's Carl McCormick. I work over at the UP yards here in Hermiston. I tried that new cleaner of yours and it worked better than anything I've ever used. I'd like to buy some more."

"Certainly, Mr. McCormick. You can have two jars, one for you workplace and one for your home."

"Only two?" I'll be goin' through that stuff pretty quick. Can't I buy more?"

"When you've finished the first jar, call me and I'll bring you another jar."

"You'll bring me?"

"Yes, the price includes delivery."

"Oh. Say, how much does it cost?"

"Twenty dollars a jar. But it's a much bigger jar than the sample size you had."

"That's a hell of a lot of money for a hand cleaner, but I guess it's worth it if I can get my hands this clean without feelin' like I dipped them in caustic soda."

Wiseman chuckled, "I think you'll agree that the price is more than fair when you've been using the product for a week or so, Mr. McCormick."

"I sure hope so. Anyway, I'll take two jars and you can deliver them both to my home if that's okay?"




Airstream Dreams



"Fine. Give me your address, please."

I did so and set two twenty dollar bills aside by the phone. He said he'd be over in an hour. Sure enough, almost exactly an hour later, he showed up with a fair sized carton that had him staggering when he took it out of his car. When he opened it, I saw two big wide-mouth jars the size you see in a saloon to keep pickled eggs or the like. I didn't feel so bad about the price now. Those two jars were damn heavy. I paid the fellow and thanked him. I'd be telling my friends about his product and he said he'd be grateful for that. It was the only advertising he got.

Once the word got around, every one of us in the shop was using his "goop." None of us could bring ourselves to call it by its proper name, but I could see where that came from. In fact, I couldn't wait for Friday night. I'd be down to the Riverside Inn in Umatilla right smartly, trying my luck with the ladies. I'd take the Airstream, so's if I did get lucky I'd have a place to take someone that's private, comfortable, and right handy. My truck wasn't that new or shiny, so they wouldn't be impressed by it. The Airstream was another matter altogether.

Just before eight o'clock Friday night, I rolled the big unit out of the park and headed for Umatilla. It was a nice night and I was humming along with a CD I'd put in the player. A little John Lee Hooker put me in just the right mood. For the ladies, I had a good live performance CD set of Bonnie Raitt that usually satisfied them. 

I got to the Riverside early enough that I didn't have any trouble finding a place to put my Airstream. At thirty-three feet it wasn't suitable for the parking lot, so I rolled it around back near where the deliveries were made and left it there. It wouldn't be in anyone's way that time of day. I strolled into the saloon and dance hall and had a look around. It was early and the place wasn't crowded yet, but give it another hour and the joint would be jumpin'. 

I found myself an open bar stool and set myself down there. The bartender didn't waste any time finding me and I ordered a shot of Wild Turkey and a sleeve of Michelob. Gotta start somewhere. Now, I'm not a big drinker, especially during the week, but this was the first weekend I'd allowed myself to get out and see if I could have some fun. That bourbon went down easy, so I took my time with the beer.

The place got noisy as the band started up, forcing people to talk loud if they wanted to be heard. I didn't mind. I was looking down at my hands and wondering when the last time was that they were this clean. I know for a fact they were never this soft. 

While I was doing that, someone took their place beside me at the bar and when I looked, I was now sitting beside a fine looking woman. In fact, there were two fine looking women. They saw me looking and I nodded to them.

"Evening," I said, just being polite.

They looked at me kind of suspiciously, but then the one sitting close to me got a funny look on her face.

"What's that smell? It smells nice," she said.

"I think it must be the hand cleaner I use. It's new and it's the first time my hands have been this clean since I was a little kid."

She looked down at my hands and then up at me. "What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a heavy duty mechanic."

"I don't believe it," she said. "I have an uncle who's a mechanic at the farm equipment place and his hands are never clean."

"Well, you can believe it. I've got the union card to prove it. Not only that, they're softer than they've any right to be," I bragged. "By the way, my name's Carl McCormick," I said, holding out my hand.

She took it almost involuntarily, then looked down at it as we shook. "I still don't believe it," she said. "I've never felt a man's hand that was so soft."

"I'm just as surprised as you are," I admitted. "I'll tell you what," I said reaching for my wallet and pulling out Wiseman's card. "You have your uncle phone this fellow for a free trial sample and see if I'm not being straight with you."

"Do you sell this stuff yourself?" she asked suspiciously.

"Nope, but guys like me and your uncle know how hard it is to get clean and anything that works and doesn't ruin your skin is worth its weight in gold."

"Thanks," she said, looking at the card. Then she turned back and looked up at me. "My name's Karen Barnes, you want to dance?" she asked out of nowhere.

Well, she did catch me off-guard, but not so much I didn't grab the opportunity.

"Sure. Let's go."

I took her in my arms to dance to this medium-slow number and it was the first chance I got to really have a look at her. She wasn't tall, maybe five-two or five-three, but she was good looking. Dark hair, dark brown eyes, nice set of C cups, and a fine looking booty on top of great legs. All in all, she was a fox and I had lucked-out it seemed.

We weren't dancing for but a minute or so when I could see she was getting that funny look in her eyes like when she first smelled that hand cleaner on me. I was getting worried it was upsetting her and I was almost about to say something when she took the hand I was holding and put it too her lips. The look on her at that point was somethin' to behold. She was like in a trance.

"I love the smell of that hand lotion," she said. "What's it called?"

"You're not going to believe it, but it's called Loving Hands." 

She looked up at me again and smiled. "I believe it. It's perfect." 

Well, you could see where this was going, I'm sure. Karen's friend Bonnie hooked up with someone else while Karen and I spent most of our time on the dance floor. Just before eleven, we were seated at a small table and we finally had a chance to talk some more.

"Where do you live?" she asked.

"In Hermiston. How about you?"

"Across the river in Kennewick. I share an apartment with my friend Bonnie."

"Well, my home's right out back. It travels with me," I said.

She looked at me funny, then I guess the light went on. "You've got a motorhome?"

"Yeah. An Airstream. The best of the best. Always wanted one and now I've got one."

"Can I see it?"

"Come on, let's go," I said before she could change her mind.

I unlocked the door and switched on the entry light, giving her a chance to see where she was going in the darkened interior. I flicked on the rest of the lights when I closed the door.

"Wow. This is nice. You live in this every day?"

"Yeah. Plenty big enough for one guy."

"It's so neat. You keep it really clean, too."

"Like I said, I've always wanted one and it's going to be my home for a while, so I want it to be clean, inside and out. Just like I wanted my hands to be clean," I said.

She turned to me and took my hands, holding the up to her face.

"They smell so ... different. But ... I like that smell. And ... they're so soft. I was thinking ... wondering ... what they would feel like ... on me," she said shyly.

"I was wondering the same thing. Would you like to find out?" I asked, feeling pretty bold.

"Yes, I would," she said, beginning to undo the buttons on her shirt. 

There was no point in my helping her. She was doing just fine by herself. When she took her top off, she stood there in her bra and I couldn't resist reaching for her. She came into my arms and we kissed. It was a nice, deep, soft, tongue on tongue kiss that felt perfect to me. I guess it felt pretty good to her too, since she smiled and me and then reached around her back and unhooked her bra, letting it slide off her shoulders.

She had perfect, round, full breasts that didn't sag an inch. I don't know how old she was, but her body was in the mid-twenties, even if I thought she was in her thirties. She was perfect! I began to run my hands over her, my thumbs catching her nipples and turning them rock-hard in seconds. She moaned and shivered in pleasure and closed her eyes as I continued to stroke her lovely skin. I pulled her in for another kiss and got a very warm response.

When we broke, she reached for my shirt buttons and began to undo them. I could see where this was headed and I had to thank my lucky stars that it was going this well so soon. When she got my shirt off, she started to work on my belt and jeans, so I started to do the same.

"What do you say we take this to the bedroom," I suggested.

"Yeah, let's do that," she said in a sexy voice. 

Man, I was as hard as a chrome-vanadium wrench and ready for action. Too ready, I figured.

"Karen, I haven't been with a woman since I split with my ex-wife last year. I'm probably not going to last very long," I explained.

"Are you only good for once-a-night?" she grinned.

"No ... not for someone as beautiful as you. I just didn't want to disappoint you, that's all."

"You let me worry about that," she said. "In the meantime, let's use that bed for what it was intended for." 

By that time, we were almost naked, with just her panties and my boxer's to be dealt with, and they were soon gone. As we slipped under the single sheet, we rolled toward each other and kissed, my arms holding her closely. She didn't seem to be in a rush and that was just as well for me. I knew our first time was going to be short, so I figured I'd start with a little oral for her. 

It only took a couple of minutes before Karen let me know I was doing just fine. I could feel her hips moving under me and I could hear her grunts and moans as she felt each little shock wave pass through her body. This was one hot woman. The only person I had to compare her to was Sharise, but Karen was a lot more responsive than her. She also tasted better, but that was just an opinion.

"No more, Carl, please," she pleaded. "I can't handle another orgasm right now."

"Why don't you just plunk yourself on top of me and rest a while," I said. "You can let me know when you want me to go on."

She did that, and it was a fine feeling to have this small, beautiful woman perched on top of me like that. I was stroking her back and now-and-then squeezing her cheeks. Even at that, she was letting me know she was feeling something.

"You want me to stop?" I asked.

"No ... no ... I can handle it," she whispered. 

She seemed like she was in dreamland and that made me feel really good. I don't ever remember Sharise reacting this way, but that was then and this was now.

"I want you now, Carl," she said, smiling as she lifted her head to look at me. 

We kissed and I rolled her over on her back and carefully got between her legs. I was going to make this good for her. She deserved it. I gently probed her pussy to see if she was still wet and she was. Damn, she was soaking wet. I guided my cock to her slit and rubbed the head in her wetness before beginning to push into her. She was tight, but she was willing. Hell, she had both hands on my butt and was pulling me into her with some force.

It didn't take us long to get going pretty good and I was beginning to think I might last longer than I thought at first. But my luck didn't hold. I could feel it starting and since we were going at it bareback, I thought I'd better warn her.

"I'm just about there, Karen. Do you want me to pull out?"

"No! God, no! You feel so good. I'm almost there too. Just keep on. I want to go with you."

"I'll try, girl."

I did everything I could to delay what I knew was going to happen sooner than later. I finally couldn't hold back any longer and with a big groan of my own, I let go.

"Caaaaarrrrrlllll," she cried. She was right there with me. I couldn't believe my luck.

It took both of us a while to come down from that moment. I'd never experienced it before ... not like that ... not coming at the very same time. Before or after, sure, but never at the same time. I was lying on my back and Karen was too. I think we were both thinking the same thing. That was something special.

Neither of us said anything for a while. I guess we were trying to figure out what this meant ... if anything. 

"I've never done this before," Karen said after a while.

"Me either ... that was new for me too."

"I don't mean about us have the same thing at the same time," she said. "I mean, I've never had sex with anyone on a first date, and this isn't even a date. I should feel cheap and lousy ... but I don't."

"Yeah. I know what you mean," I said. "I haven't done anything like this either, even before I was married. I don't know what happened, but it seemed like we just ... did it. No questions, no fooling around, no talking about it. We just ... did it." 

"I wonder what happened?" she asked quietly. 

"Damned if I know," I answered.

Chapter 3 Something funny was going on

The next morning, Karen was still asleep when I slipped out of bed and headed for the washroom to relieve myself. When I was washing my hands, I noticed that they were still clean, but the felt a little rougher than last night. Also, I couldn't smell that unusual smell any more. I guess that shouldn't be a surprise. It had probably worn off by now.

When I slipped back into bed and tucked myself up against Karen, she moaned a little and pushed herself back into me. Well, you can guess what that produced, can't you? I just left it nestled there between those lovely butt cheeks just to see if it would produce any reaction from her. Not right away, it didn't, but as time went on she began to squirm a bit and I figured she was waking up.

I wrapped my arm over her and gently as I could, cupped a breast, using my thumb to softly stroke the nipple. I got another moan from her, then her hand came up and covered mine, not stopping me, just lightly holding me. 

"Hhuuumm ... Carl," she groaned quietly. 

"Mornin'," I whispered. "Sleep well?"

"Hhuuumm ... yeah. Nice dreams."

"Good. How about breakfast in bed?"

"Gotta pee first," she grumbled into her pillow.

I released her and she struggled out from under the sheet and dragged herself to the bathroom. I put on a clean pair of boxers, jeans and a t-shirt and shuffled to the kitchenette, my hard-on refusing to go down quickly. I was halfway through making toast, bacon, and scrambled eggs when she made an appearance.

She came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me and gave me a nice hug.

"Thanks," she said, still sounding a little sleepy. 

"For what?" 

"For everything. The best sex I've ever had ... being a nice guy ... making my favorite breakfast. There's probably some other things that I'll think of later."

All the while she hadn't let go of me from that hug. 

"You are very welcome, Karen. I don't think I've ever experienced a night like last night either. Something about us seemed to just happen without our even trying. Did you feel that way?"

"Uh huh. Just like that. Just like I didn't have a mind of my own ... that I was going to sleep with you no matter what."

"Then I'm one hell of a lucky guy," I said, turning to her.

She was wearing one of my t-shirts that was more like a dress for her. It came down well below her butt and covered her quite nicely. Like me, she was barefoot and her hair was looking pretty wild, but as I looked at her, I saw a very beautiful woman in her natural state. 

I slipped my hands up underneath the t-shirt and stroked her breasts gently, knowing she wasn't wearing her bra. I got another appreciative groan from her for that. 

"Let's eat at the table," she said. "I don't want to mess up the bed. We might want to use it again later." She was smiling kinda sneaky-like when she said that. 

"I like your thinking," I said.

"When do you want me to go?" she asked as we sat to eat.

"Why would I want you to go?" I wasn't sure what she was asking.

"I mean, it's Saturday. Don't you have chores, or laundry, or things you need to do?"

"Nothing that can't wait. Do you need to go do those things?"

"Nothing that can't wait," she grinned.

"So, can we hang out this weekend ... see where it takes us?"

"I'd like that Carl. But I need to go back to the apartment and get some clothes."

"Is your car in the parking lot here?"

"No, Bonnie took it. Why don't you take me there and then we can do ... whatever after I get a few things."

"Sure. Let's do that."

We finished up breakfast and Karen went to get dressed while I looked after the dishes, pans, and utensils. I was done before she was back and I saw that she had put on some makeup. I was of a mind she didn't need it, but she looked so good either way, hell ... who was I to complain.

Karen gave me a nice kiss before I started the Airstream. I had punched in her address on the Garmin and saved it for future use. I had a feeling Karen and I might be seeing more of each other.

The place she was staying looked pretty nice. It was four stories and looked like it might be steel and concrete, but I really couldn't tell. When I pulled into the parking lot, I found a space big enough for the motorhome. I wasn't going to be there for very long, so I didn't worry about taking someone's place. 

While I was waiting, I called Emigrant Spring State Park and was lucky enough to get a full service site for the night. I thought she'd enjoy a nice setting like that, and we could walk some of the trails and enjoy some privacy. After that, I sat in the cab and listened to the radio for a while until Karen came back out with a small satchel. I liked this girl. She traveled light.

She climbed up into the cab and put her bag on the seat behind the co-pilot's chair. Well, that's what I called it, anyway. 

"This is my first time in a big motorhome," she said. "It's really different, isn't it."

"Yes, it is," I agreed. "It took me a while to get used to how big it is and how to get around in it. Even though I had a fairly big truck, it was nothing like handling this rig. If you're okay with it, I thought we'd go down to Emigrant Spring Park for the day and stay over. That okay with you?"

"That sounds nice," she smiled. "I've never been there but Bonnie has. She said it was a really lovely place. The weather is good, so let's take advantage of it."

We stopped in Pendleton for some groceries and liquid supplies before taking the interstate the last few miles to the park. It was the beginning of the best weekend I'd spent in a long, long time. We walked, we talked, we made love, we met other people, and we sat in a couple of camp chairs under the awning of the Airstream, just relaxing. 

It was all I could do to pack up the unit and head back to Kennewick with Karen on Sunday afternoon. I didn't have very much ambition at that point. It had been such a perfect two days that I didn't want it to end. Karen said she wanted to see me again, and I told her she couldn't keep me away. I don't know what you call it, but somehow there was an instant connection between us and I know she felt it too.

When I went into work on Monday morning, I was thinking about Karen and my weekend with her. It took me a while to concentrate on my job, but I did finally put my daydreams behind me and got on with the job. It was at lunch that I began to notice something different. I wasn't sure at first what it was, but after a while I figured out that the mood in the lunchroom was different. I didn't catch it at first, but I thought maybe everybody was in a good mood for a change.

I didn't hear a word about what a lousy time Joe had, or how Harry spent the whole weekend doing work around the house, or Mike had hiss visiting and giving him heartburn. No ... none of that. In fact, it was the opposite. Most of the guys seemed to be smiling. Maybe I should say grinning ... like from ear to ear. When I caught some of the conversation, I got the impression they were bragging about how much sex they had. Even more surprising, they were talking about their wives! What the hell!

And it wasn't just the weekend, either. Apparently, this had started earlier in the week, but continued on into the weekend. A couple of the guys said they were happy to get back to work because they were pretty much worn out. In the nearly twenty years that I'd spent in lunch rooms and coffee break areas on the job, I'd never heard anything like it. 




Airstream Dreams



I saw Marvin, our shop foreman, walking around the place with a funny look on his face. He seemed to be trying to figure out what was going on. He wasn't upset. He just couldn't figure out why everyone seemed to be in a good mood. I had a pretty good idea of what the good mood was about, but I had no idea what had caused it. After a while, Marvin just shrugged his shoulders and went back to his office.

Meanwhile, I was calling Karen each night to see how she was. I was hoping she wasn't going to change her mind and dump me. Not after the last weekend. It didn't sound like it and she seemed to be happy to talk to me. We set up a date for next Friday night and I'd pick her up at her place and we'd go somewhere nice for dinner, then maybe to the Riverside for some dancing before we went back to my place and parked the Airstream.

In the meantime, almost every guy in the place was using the Loving Hands cleaner and telling anybody who'd care to listen that it was the greatest stuff since jelly beans. As the week went on, I noticed things were getting back closer to normal. I mean, I could hear the odd grumble from the guys now and then. If you can believe it, some of them were complaining of too much sex! It seemed like what they thought was the very thing they wanted the most, was coming back on them. Well, I sure as hell didn't agree with them. 

Another thing that caught my attention too. Some of the guys doing the complaining were quite a bit older, like in their fifties or so. Maybe that was the problem. They weren't used to that much exercise at their age. Just the same, these were the same guys who were forever bitching about how their sex life had shrunk to next to nothing. Make up your mind, boys.

I spent the week working and thinking of Karen. I had to admit that she had got to me in a hurry. Apparently, I had made a big impression on her too. We talked on the phone every night and we never seemed to run out of things to say to each other. I'm not much of a phone guy, but just hearing her voice was enough to turn me on. Friday night couldn't come too soon.

Karen worked as a receptionist and "Girl Friday" at a small law office in Pasco. It was steady work with regular hours and no overtime. That suited her and the pay was enough to have an apartment and a car. She had been married when she was young ... too young she said ... and it had failed inside five years. It was a reasonable divorce and she remained on speaking terms with her ex. She had been wary of getting involved with any men, hoping that some day the right guy would come along. Apparently, she was thinking I might be the right guy. 

I was just coming off my divorce, so I wasn't anxious to tie myself down all over again, only to find out it might be another mistake. Just the same, I couldn't deny how attracted I was to her, and I figured I'd just let the chips fall where they may. In the meantime, I was getting looked after very nicely on our weekends together.

We'd been going together for about a month, and I was calling her almost every evening. On a Thursday night, I called Karen and we talked as we usually did about everything and nothing. I just wanted to hear her voice and I guess she felt the same way. But we did have a change in plans, as it turned out.

"Carl, would it be okay if Bonnie joined us tomorrow at the Riverside? She loves to dance, but she's really nervous about being there on her own. Too many wolves, if you know what I mean."

"I'm fine with that if you're okay. After all, we usually save the real personal stuff until later when we're alone," I said.

"Thanks, Carl. She's my best friend as well as my roommate. I'll lend her my car so if she wants to leave early, she can."

"That'll work, girl. Mind you, I could always find room for her in the Airstream," I kidded.

"Carl ... behave yourself," she said sternly, then laughed.

"Don't you worry, girl. I'm not doing anything to mess up you and me."

"That's my guy," she said brightly.

We met at Karen's apartment and the two of us headed out for a nice meal at a local restaurant. That was becoming our usual routine. Bonnie wasn't home yet from work, so she would meet us later at the Riverside. 

Along about nine o'clock, Karen and I were sitting in a booth, just sharing some time together. The band was about to start up, so we would be out on the dance floor soon enough. Bonnie arrived just then, and we got properly introduced. I asked her what she'd like to drink and it turns out she was happy with the same wine that Karen liked, so that was simple enough. I was sticking to beer.

Bonnie was a fine looking woman too, even compared to Karen. She was a strawberry blonde with longer hair, well below her shoulders. A nice face with blue eyes and a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks. She was built a little sturdier than Karen and had a pretty big set of hooters to show off. That would be a magnet to any of the guys that hung out looking for quick score. She had a nice disposition and laughed a lot, so she was easy to like.

She worked at the Walmart Distribution Centre in Hermiston and was happy to have the job. It didn't pay top dollar, but then, she admitted she didn't have any special skills to offer them. She was upbeat though, and didn't badmouth her employer or her situation.

"I'm a farm girl, Carl. I'm used to getting up early, working hard, and going to bed tired," she grinned. "This kind of work is a whole lot easier on my body."

"And a very nice body it is, if you don't mind me saying so," I offered.

"Thank you sir, but did you have permission from Karen to say that?"

"Damn. I'm in trouble, aren't I," I said, looking nervously at my girlfriend.

I didn't need to worry. Karen grabbed my arm and pulled it to her breast and said, "As long as you don't forget I come first, you're allowed to tell my best friend she's beautiful." 

We were sitting in a booth, with Karen beside me and Bonnie across from us. Karen and I had been dancing a bit and when we came back to the table, Karen nudged me and nodded toward Bonnie. I got the message.

"Bonnie, would you like to dance?"

"Sure," she said, and quickly slid out of her side. I stood and took her hand, leading her to the dance floor. It was a pretty quick two-step number, so we didn't have any trouble getting started. I was thinking she was a pretty good dancer as well as a good looking woman and I wondered why she didn't have a steady boyfriend.

The first number was over after we had just barely got started and so we stayed out for the next one. As it turned out, it was a slow one, so we started off just the way we finished the first dance, apart. That lasted about twenty seconds before she moved into me and held me close. I could feel those big tits pushing into me and you can guess what kind of reaction that caused. I was getting nervous because I could see Karen was watching us and I didn't figure she'd be too happy with what was going on.

I looked at Bonnie and I was about to say something when I saw the look on her face. It was that funny look that Karen first gave me when we met and were dancing. Like her eyes didn't focus or something. She started rubbing her belly into my erection and I figured I was in real trouble now.

"Bonnie, I don't think Karen will be too pleased with what you're doing to me."

"Carl, you are the sexiest man I've ever met ... and I just can't help myself. Now I know why Karen is goofy about you. I'll try to behave myself, but it's going to be hard." Then she laughed, "Hell, it already is hard."

I breathed a sigh of relief when she backed off a half-a-notch and gave me some space. We finished the dance and I took her back to the booth right smartly. I hoped I wasn't in too much trouble with Karen.

It didn't seem like she was upset, so I waited a bit, then took Karen back out on the dance floor. When I looked over at our booth, I noticed Bonnie turning down an invitation to dance. In fact, she did that twice when Karen and I were up.

I danced with Bonnie a couple of more times. It wasn't like no one wanted to dance with her. Hell, she had guys coming over to ask her almost every song, but she kept saying no and after a while, the guys stopped coming. I guess word got around that she wasn't dancing ... at least with them.

Bonnie tried to behave herself on the dance floor, but every once in a while she'd give me a belly rub and smile as she did it. She knew what she was doing, and what it was causing too. Lucky for me, the band decided to take a break after the third song, so I took Bonnie back to our booth. 

When we got back to the booth, the two women decided they had to use the ladies room, so off they went together. They were gone about ten minutes, a lot longer than I thought was ordinary. When they came back, they were both wearing big smiles and talking to each other.

I was about to ask them what they were doing that took so long when the band started up and Karen immediately pushed me out of the booth and led me to the dance floor. It was another quick two-step, so we didn't get much of a chance to talk. That was followed by a slow, romantic style song and Karen just folded herself up into me. I don't think we could have got any closer if we wanted to.

"Carl, you know how Bonnie is my best friend?"

"Yeah. She's a nice lady."

"Yes she is. And she's very good looking, don't you think?"

"Yes she is. Not as good looking as you ... but close."

"Good answer," she grinned. "Anyway, she's kind of lonely and I thought you and I could help her with that."

"Oh? How?"

"Well, we could invite her to join us tonight," she said, looking at me very carefully.

"Uhhm ... I don't get it. She's already joined us here."

"No, sweetie, I mean ... in the Airstream." She was watching me carefully for a reaction.

"Oh. Jeez, Karen," I said, scrambling to think of something to say. "I didn't think you were into sharing. I mean ... are you talking girl-girl, or boy-girl, or what?"

"No, baby. I mean girl-boy-girl. It would be the night every guy dreams of," she said, still being cautious.

"You're not serious, are you? I mean ... I thought ... you and me ... like we were special."

"We are special. We'll always be special, but you are such a great lover and I know you'll love Bonnie just like you love me. She's my best friend, and best friends share, don't they?"

"Uh ... I guess so. Are you sure about this, Karen? This could turn out bad for us, you know."

"No, it won't baby ... I promise. It's just that ... Bonnie feels like I do. You are something special and I want her to know just how special."

"Well ... I don't want to hurt her feelings. You're sure you're okay with this?" I asked one more time.

"I'm sure," she smiled. It was one of her nice, for-real smiles, and I guess that was the convincer.

"Okay, then. When do you want to go?"

"Well, since you're going to be very busy tonight, maybe we should go now."

I looked over at Bonnie. She was pretending she wasn't watching, but I was sure she was to see how I would react. I looked back and Karen and shrugged. I didn't feel real confident about this deal, but Karen and Bonnie seemed okay with it and hell ... every guy thinks about having a threesome with two beautiful women don't they?

Karen and Bonnie rode together in Karen's car while I took the Airstream back to my parking pad. The girls left their car in the visitors' lot and walked to the motorhome. I had left the door open, so they climbed the steps and came in.

"Wow ... Carl ... Karen was right. This is really nice. It's got everything you need, doesn't it."

"Yeah. Like I told Karen, I always wanted one of these and now that I've got one, I feel like I've got everything I'll ever need."

"Except a woman to look after you," Karen smiled. "Or in the case of tonight ... two women to look after you."

With that, Karen began to strip as she headed back to the bedroom. Luckily, the previous owner had installed a wall-to-wall bed that was almost as big as king size. There would be enough room for the three of us. I was about to follow her when Bonnie took my hand and brought it up to her lips.

"These are so soft, and they smell so sexy. When you started to dance with me tonight, I was wishing there was a way I could have you. I'm real thankful that Karen is so generous. I'm going to make you glad you decided to go along with us."

"So you two cooked this up together in the ladies room, did you?" I said, not trying to sound angry.

She nodded. "I told her I was so wet I could hardly stand it. I wanted to jump your bones right in the middle of the dance floor. I've never in my life felt like that with any guy. Maybe you've got some kind of aphrodisiac for aftershave or something," she kidded.

"I guess we better not keep Karen waiting," I said. "She's usually pretty fired up too when we get here."

Bonnie looked a little nervous when she stepped into my bedroom. Karen was already undressed, just wearing her usual bikini panties and sitting on the end of the bed waiting for us. I started to undress, thinking I sure would like to get a good look at those big babies Bonnie was sporting on her chest. I didn't have long to wait.

I didn't know how to begin, so I decided to start with Karen since she was my regular girl. I wouldn't leave Bonnie out, of course, but I'd let the girls decided how they wanted this to go. After all, they'd cooked up this scheme to start with.

Bonnie called herself a farm girl, and I could see she wasn't some skinny little thing. She was a bit thicker around the waist, but she sure as hell wasn't fat. Her ass was nice and round and tight, just like the rest of her. The rest of her except her titties, that is. She was well endowed, as they say. I don't know what size they were, but I can tell you they were big, and firm, and luscious. 

Karen decided to go to work on my cock and had her mouth all over it in no time. Bonnie caught on real quick and fed me one of those big melons and let me suck on them for a while, changing sides now and then. Then Karen must have decided I was plenty hard enough and mounted me, driving my cock into her pussy in one long downward push. The only thing that could make this better happened when Bonnie swung her leg over my head and lowered her pussy on my mouth.

I was getting the royal treatment and the only thing that kept me from going off too quick was the fact that I was very busy looking after Bonnie and making sure she was getting her share. Her thighs were clamped over my ears, so I couldn't hear real good, but the motions she was making on top of me gave me the idea that she was doing just fine, thank you very much. 

I don't think any one guy could look after these two women under normal conditions. These weren't normal conditions and I found I had to stop now and then to give myself some time to recover. Mind you, Bonnie and Karen kept helping me get back to upright every chance they could, but there was only so much a body could handle, and those two ladies found my limit.

I don't think we so much as called it quits as I finally passed out and they had to admit defeat. Mind you, the story I got the next morning wasn't one of disappointment. Bonnie was smiling and giggling as she paraded around my motorhome, helping Karen make breakfast. I just lay in the bed, trying to remember all the good things that happened last night. 

As I lay there, I began to get a funny feeling about what had been happening for the last month or so. I traced it back to when I first met Karen and that amazing night that we spend together after hardly knowing each other. I'd never had anything happen like that, until last night with both her and Bonnie. It was the same deal. Those two couldn't wait to get me into bed with them. It was strange the way it happened, but there was no doubt it did happen.

Those two women nearly killed me that weekend. I was almost relieved when Sunday afternoon came along and I took Karen back to her apartment with Bonnie following right behind in Karen's car. I told Karen that I'd see her again on Friday and maybe I'd try and find Bonnie a date so that we could had some alone time once again.

"Just be careful, Carl. She's a nice girl and I don't want to see her hurt. You make sure that any guy you hook her up with is going to treat her right ... or you'll hear from me. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be careful," I promised.

Truth was, I had somebody in mind. He was a nice young guy, just getting started in the business and he was working in the office under Marvin. I got the impression he was a bit of a farm boy as well because he couldn't help himself but get involved with what was going on in the shop. By the end of the day, he was usually as grubby as we were and I oft times wondered if he had missed his calling.

Just the same, Jerry Tuttle was pretty clean-cut, good looking, didn't swear much, and had pretty good manners from what I could see. On top of that, he was single mostly because he was real shy around the ladies. Bonnie would be a bit older than him, but not a whole hell of a lot. I figured once he spotted them rockets she was featuring, he'd be dead meat. That boy just needed some self confidence and maybe Bonnie was just the girl to give him some.

Just about everybody at the shop was using the Loving Hands goop to clean up, even some of the office staff. I guess Jerry was no exception because I could smell that peculiar odor on him when we met at the Riverside. Karen and Bonnie were already there and I walked Jerry over to their table to introduce him. I don't think that boy heard a word I said.

His eyes were radar locked on Bonnie like he'd seen nothing like her ever before in his life. I'd described her to him when I convinced him to let me set him up on this date. I guess I did a good job because he had the biggest smile on his kisser I'd ever seen and didn't even notice Karen. I could see my lady giggling as Jerry sat down beside Bonnie and took her hand. When he did that, Bonnie got that funny look in her eyes again, just like I saw last Friday. 

It didn't take about ten minutes before she and Jerry were out on the dance floor and when that first slow number came along, she was grinding into him like she did to me. I could guess what was happening to Jerry, but between being red-faced and in full body contact with Bonnie, he wasn't about to back off. 

Bonnie and Jerry lasted until about eleven o'clock before they bailed out. I'm sure they were headed for Jerry's place across the river and I'd hear all about it on Monday. I looked at Karen and she just laughed.

"Well, stud. Looks like you picked a winner for Bonnie. Those two couldn't keep their hands off each other ten minutes after they met. Something like what happened with you and me when we first me, huh?"

Karen was right. It was almost exactly the same as the first time she and I met. I was getting that funny feeling again. That feeling that told me something about this whole deal was strange. Something was going on that I didn't understand. Now, I wasn't complaining mind you. I had come out a winner all the way around. But just the same, something was definitely not normal.

When I took my lunch break on Monday, I spotted Jerry over in the corner of the cafeteria. He was by himself and it looked like he wanted it that way. What the hell, I wanted to find out what happened on Friday night with him and Bonnie, so I marched right over there and sat opposite him.

"Hey, Jerry. How are you?" 

He looked up when he saw it was me and got a crooked smile before he answered me. 

"I'm good. Real good." He'd gone red-faced again.

"How'd your date with Bonnie work out?"

He looked at me again, then looked down at this lunch, then back up at me.

"I don't know what to say, Carl. It was the damndest thing I'd ever had happen to me. Before I knew it, we were at my place and rippin' our clothes off. She plumb wore me out. I didn't get to take her home until Sunday afternoon. She just didn't want to go."




Airstream Dreams



"So ... that would mean it was okay, then?" I said, trying not to laugh.

"I'll tell you Carl, I'm going to marry that girl if she gives me half a chance. We have so much in common that I can't believe it. I mean, every time I told her about my life, she had a story that was similar for her too. Did you know she was a farm girl?"

"Yes I did, Jerry. That's why I thought of you when I knew we wanted to find a date for Bonnie."

"Well, Carl, I can't thank you enough for thinking of me. I owe you. I owe you real big. I don't exactly know what happened, but that girl and me are just perfect for each other and she thinks so too. How about that!"

"I'm real pleased to hear that, Jerry. I have to tell you that it was just good luck. It's not like I knew for sure you two would get along."

"Get along ain't the half of it. I swear I thought we were born for each other."

"Well, good for you and good for Bonnie. I wish you good luck," I smiled.

"No need, Carl. I got all the good luck any man could ever want."

I left him there in his happy thoughts, and headed back to the shop floor. Work was waiting. I felt good about choosing Jerry. He was a nice guy and with him hitting it off with Bonnie right off, I was sure Karen would be happy too.

I was right. I had to listen to Karen recite all the good things Bonnie had to say about Jerry. My putting them together had raised my status to all-star in their eyes. Karen said she couldn't wait for next Friday night to reward me for looking after her best friend so well. I was thinking I'd be counting the hours until we got together again too.

Chapter 4 I begin to figure it out

There's times when I swear I need to be hit upside the head with a two-by-four to see something that's right in front of my face. I'd been taking this meeting Karen, and the threesome, and Jerry and Bonnie situations just like they were a natural occurrence and a whole pile of good luck. I suppose if they'd all happened the same day, or even the same week, I might have been suspicious, but maybe not. Like I say, sometimes I'm not so quick on the uptake.

Anyway, I was leaving work one Tuesday afternoon when I heard a nice female voice call my name. I turned and saw it was Marlene Woloski, and she was standing in front of her car with the hood up. Naturally, I walked over to see what the problem was.

"Hey there, Marlene. What's the trouble?"

"It won't start, Carl. It just sets there and clicks, but it won't start."

Well, right away I kind of figured the battery had gone dead, so I said, "You just wait here, Marlene. I'll get my truck and bring it over. I've got some jumper cables and we'll see if I can get you started with them."

She was happy I was willing to help and waited by her car until I got back with the truck. I hooked up the cables and she got in her car and sure enough, it started first thing. She jumped out with a big smile.

"Oh, thank you so much, Carl. What should I do now?"

"Well, let's just let your car run for a few minutes," I said, disconnecting the cables, "and let the battery get charged up. Then you go over to The Battery Shop on Crescent Drive and they'll tell you quick enough if you need a new one."

"Oh thank you Carl," she said, taking my hand and holding it. She looked up at me and all of a sudden, I could see that look that I saw in Bonnie and Karen's eyes. I suddenly felt kind of funny, but not bad if you know what I mean. She was just staring at me and still holding my hand.

"Carl?" she said after a bit, "How come you've never asked me out on a date?"

Well, I wasn't ready for that question so I had to think fast.

"Uhhm, well ... uh ... Marlene, you were going out with Freddie Davidson and I've been seeing someone too. I'm a one woman man, so I don't mess with someone else's girl."

"I'd dump Freddie in a heartbeat if you asked me out," she said, just like that.

"Well ... uh ... Marlene, that's sure flattering, but like I said, I have a girlfriend and we're kind of serious about each other."

"Oh ... okay then," she said, looking sad. "But if you ever are looking for a date, come see me first, please." She was damn near begging, and I couldn't see why. She was very good looking and Freddie was a good guy with a nice job in the office.

"Yeah ... sure ... I can do that."

Now I suppose that most people would think that it was just an innocent conversation between two people who knew each other. Well, most people would be wrong. First of all, Marlene worked in the office, and I knew her name because I knew Freddie and he was forever bragging about his girl. I'd hardly said much more than hello to her up until that afternoon. 

In the second place, Marlene was known to be very shy and uncomfortable around the guys when Freddie wasn't there. In fact, when I came over to help her, she looked downright nervous about me being there. So, it was a shock when she got all friendly-like when she held my hand. 

So, that got me to thinking ... finally. What the hell was going on? First Karen, then Bonnie, now Marlene? And come to think of it, there'd been a couple of other cases where I thought some women acted a bit funny. Like at the grocery store when the girl at the checkout handed me my change and my bag and our hands touched, she looked up and I saw something in her eyes. And the waitress at the diner where I had dinner the other night. She got all gushy when she put her hand over mine when she brought the bill.

I had a magic touch, it seemed. Except, it only happened recently and only after work. I sat and thought about that for a while before it came to me. All this happened after I'd started using the new hand cleaner. And I kind of thought it might be the odor it gave off just as much as how soft my hands were. Some of those women hardly touched my hands.

Loving Hands, eh! Well, maybe that name meant more than I thought. Maybe there was something in that goop that was causing women to get all friendly like. Tomorrow, I was going to do a little investigating. 

Over the next couple of days, I carefully talked to a bunch of the guys who were using the goop to clean up after work. Every one of them said the same thing. Their love lives had picked up 500 percent, and they were enjoying the benefits. I asked them if they knew why, and none of them connected the goop to the change. I guess I wasn't the only slow thinker in the bunch.

Then I did something to test my suspicions a little further. I asked a couple of the guys in the scheduling office how their love life was and got a shrug. No difference as far as I could tell. Like Freddie, they didn't work on the shop floor and never got their hands dirty. They were office staff. I was pretty sure now just what was causing the change in the way women were acting around us men.

I thought I would go visit Mr. Merlin Wiseman and have a talk with him. I mean, if I was right, this man was sitting on a pot of gold, whether he knew it or not. I was thinking I might want to become a distributor for him. Hell, one test of this cleaner by any guy and they'd be lined up to buy more. It would be the easiest "sell" you could ever find.

I remembered I'd given Wiseman's card to Karen, so during my nightly call to her, I asked her if she'd given it to her uncle. 

"Yes, I did. Funny you should ask. He wants to get a big jar of it. Says it works wonders on his hands and that's translated into more fun in the bedroom, if you get what I mean."

"Yeah," I laughed. "I think I know what you mean. I'll look after that for you, but I gave you the card with his phone number on it. He's not listed in the phone book. Can you phone your uncle for me and get that number. In the meantime, I've got a big jar here that I haven't opened yet. I'll get that to you for him."

"Oh, sure, Carl. I'll call him right away and let him know I'll have a jar for him on the weekend. That okay?"

"You bet, girl. In fact, we can deliver it to him on Saturday if you'd like."

"That's really nice of you, Carl. He'll be very pleased, I'm sure."

Karen called me back in a few minutes and gave me the phone number for Merlin Wiseman. I called him right away.

"Mr. Wiseman, it's Carl McCormick calling. I wonder if I might come out and see you about a business deal I have in mind. It's about that hand cleaner you have, Loving Hands." 

"I suppose so, Mr. McCormick. I rather wondered when someone would want to talk to me about it."

He gave me directions to his place and we agreed Wednesday evening at seven-thirty. I was thinking about all the opportunities there were for his product and I could see myself getting pretty damn rich if I played my cards right.

As you can imagine, I had that on my mind most of the day as I worked at the shop. I stamped my time card right on five o'clock and headed for the Airstream. I'd brought it to work today to save time and get to Wiseman's place right on the dot at seven-thirty. I cleaned up, changed clothes, and made myself a heat-and-serve dinner before loading up the GPS with Wiseman's address and heading off to meet with him.

He lived a little farther out of town than I realized and it was a good thing I gave myself plenty of time to get there. As it was, I was about five minutes late when I rolled up the driveway to this big ranch-style house that had a couple of big barn-like buildings behind it. There was a new, shiny pickup truck along side the house and I could see a late model Cadillac sitting in front of one of the barns. Looks like Wiseman was doing okay.

I rang the door bell and I didn't have to wait more than ten seconds before it opened and there stood a woman, the likes of which I had never seen before. She was near enough six foot tall like me, and a cross between Pamela Anderson and Uma Thurman. She had this white gold hair and a big smile with perfect teeth and a body that should be declared a national treasure.

"Good evening, Mr. McCormick," she said flashing that magic smile. "My husband is expecting you. I'm Felicity. Please come in."

Husband? Holy shit! That stuff must really work wonders. My recollection of Wiseman was a guy in his sixties, short, a bit tubby, bald except for a white fringe around his head. And this was his wife? HOLY SHIT! 

She led me into the house and I could see that it was some kind of fancy. Very modern and really nicely decorated, but not overdone if you get what I mean. Wiseman was sitting at what I guessed was the dining room table and he got up as I came toward him.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. McCormick," he said in a friendly way.

"Nice to see you too, sir. Most of my friends call me Carl," I offered.

"Thank you, Carl," he smiled. "You can call me Merlin if you like. And no ... I'm not a magician, despite what you may think."

"First off," I began, "I want to congratulate you on Loving Hands. It is far and away the finest hand cleaner I've ever encountered and I can tell you I might have tried them all."

"Thank you," the old man said modestly.

"However, I have discovered that your product has a side effect that I originally thought you might not be aware of."

"Oh ... and what was that side effect?" he smiled.

"Well, as best I can figure it, the aroma or smell that it gives off has an effect on women that ... let's see ... what should I call it?"

"Acts like an aphrodisiac?" he interrupted.

"Yeah. Exactly that. I was thinking that it might just be an accident, but now ... seeing your wife ... I'm not so sure." I wondered if I might have offended him saying what I did.

The showed me a big grin and chuckled as he shook his head.

"I've never understood what took everyone so long to put two and two together," Merlin said. "I would have thought someone would have figured it out weeks ago."

"So ... you knew about it when you first handed out the samples?"

"Yes, indeed. I've know about it for some time. I suppose an explanation is in order. Do you have some time?"

"Merlin, you can have all the time you need," I said, sitting down in a chair opposite him.

"I retired some years ago from a very well known multi-national chemical company in the east. I had enjoyed a very good career and had contributed a number of valuable patents to that company. I had several ideas for other projects, but when the recession came along, the R & D budget was cut way back. I was offered an early retirement and I took it.

"I worked on my own and developed some of my ideas, patenting them myself and selling the rights to other companies. That turned out to be very profitable for me. In fact, I probably have enough money from royalties to live the rest of my life in obscene luxury. However, that didn't satisfy me. I was always curious about the next idea I wanted to explore.

"The one thing that my wealth provided was funding for longer term development work. I was a widower then, so I was free to travel and spend time as I saw fit without worrying about any responsibilities. I was looking for problems that I could address that fell into my area of expertise. As it turned out, the problems that men like you faced with their hands struck me as a worthwhile project.

"In the meantime, I was being hounded by various corporations to work exclusively for them. Even my old employer wanted me back. But I knew the corporate world well enough that I resisted all their charms. I wanted my freedom and my right to choose those things that interested me, not by some faceless executive on the twenty-fifth floor. 

"My only solution was to get out of the limelight and disappear. I did some searching for a location that would give me access to potential test customers and still allow me my privacy. Hermiston turned out to be just the ideal place. As you can see out my windows, I have a magnificent view of the Columbia River and the Blue Mountains in the distance.

"Loving Hands is my first project, but I'm afraid it will probably never be a commercial project," he said with a frown.

"Why not?" I asked quickly. "It works like a hot damn, and that side effect has to be something that would guarantee success."

"So you would think," Merlin agreed. "However, think about the consequences if it fell into the wrong hands. Some unscrupulous marketer who might sell it as a "guaranteed female seduction lotion? I'm afraid my active mind can dream up all sorts of unfortunate circumstances where it might be misused.

"At present, I'm working on a way to neutralize the odor, which comes from the active ingredient in the formula. The base, of course, is lanolin, as so many of the current cleaners are. I'm pretty sure I have a solution, but I'm going to need to test it to make sure it still cleans as well as the current version, and has no other unexpected side effects."

"What about all the cleaner you've already sold, Merlin?"

"I'm not taking any new orders, Carl. When the current batch is gone, it will be replaced with the new formula. I don't want to disappoint your fellow workers at the Union Pacific. I'm sure, under the circumstances, they'll still be happy with the results," he smiled.

"Yeah ... I can see that. To bad you couldn't dilute that ... what did you call it ... active ingredient, and use it in an aftershave or men's cologne. That would be dynamite," I said.

Merlin laughed. "Yes, I'm sure it would, but I haven't put my mind to it yet. One problem at a time, Carl. One at a time."

"If it's not giving away any state secrets, what other kinds of projects do you have in mind?"

"Carl, I have to ask you not to talk about this meeting with anyone. The last thing I need is to attract attention again, especially if certain people knew that I had the formula for that cleaner and I could reproduce it. That would put Felicity and me in danger, I'm afraid."

"Yeah ... I can see that. Your secret is safe with me, Merlin. I guess I was thinking with my wallet when I came to see you tonight. You've given me a whole new way to think about things, that's for sure."

"As far as new projects go, I've got a couple that I'm going to work on when Loving Hands is finished. One of them is code-named Endure and another is called Interlude."

"What do you expect them to do?"

"Carl, do you know what the two most profitable drugs sold in North America are?"

"No."

"Viagra and Cialis. The patents are locked up tightly and so they can charge whatever the market will bear. The pharmaceutical companies know what a gold mine they've got, so they aren't about to get into a price war over market share. It's called 'conscious parallelism.' That just means that once one company decides to set the price like Viagra did in the first place, the competitors will follow along in lock-step to avoid upsetting the marketplace. Instead, they bombard the TV with advertising on shows generally watched by the demographic that is most like to buy their product."

"I had no idea. So ... it that what Endure is all about? A replacement for Viagra?"

"Yes ... but one that is more within the reach of the average man who is in need of help."

"Isn't that going to upset the pharmaceutical companies? Doesn't it take forever to get this kind of product through the Food and Drug Administration."

"Yes, it does. Unless, that is, it doesn't contain any ingredient that is not already approved by the FDA, and it isn't a prescription drug. In that case, the approval process is quite straightforward and only involves finding cause not to approve the product."

"You've already got something figured out, haven't you?" I said with a grin.

"Well ... let's just say I have an idea that I'm working on that is showing some promise."

"How do you test something like that without letting everyone know about it?" I asked.

"I have a number of friends from my past career that will help me in that regard. I don't want another problem like Loving Hands, so I'll use a more disciplined approach this time." 

I nodded and grinned. "I get your point."

"Felicity married me for my mind, Carl. But just the same, there had to be some reward for her altruism."

I wasn't sure just exactly what he said, but I got the jist of it anyway. When you had a woman like Felicity, you never, never wanted to disappoint her.

"So, that leaves the other project. What did you call it?"

"Interlude. It's something quite different and I don't think I want to discuss it right now. I'm anticipating that it might be linked to a problem that hasn't yet arisen. Anyway, forget I told you about these three products, please. I don't want to have to leave this home and move elsewhere. Felicity and I are happy here and I'd like to be able to stay without worrying about who's coming after me for something."

"I understand. You're awful trusting if I must say so myself, Merlin. You don't really know me, and I could really be someone who would want to take advantage of you."

"Yes ... you could I suppose. But I don't think that's who you are, Carl. I did a background check on you and I think I know you well enough that you wouldn't betray a trust ... unlike your ex-wife. How are your sons, by the way?"

Well, you can imagine that he caught me flat-footed with that question. "Uh ... they're fine. Finishing up high school this year and next. They're still living with my ex, but everything seems to be okay with them."

"I'm pleased to hear that. Is there anything else you'd like to talk about, Carl?"

"I was thinking, when you get the formula fixed, I'd be pleased to take on a distributorship for Loving Hands. Side effect or no, it's a really great product and any guy who gets his hands in grime, oil, and grease like we do would be happy as hell to have it."

"I'll give that some thought, Carl. I have a couple of options open to sell the license for it to a national chain of industrial cleaning products, but I can see it having a good market for the home handyman and backyard mechanic. If that would satisfy you, I think we might be able to work something out."