Overheated Copyright MCVT2017 31 August 2021
Outlandish coming out tale Drugs, alcohol and lingerie bring about a coercive situation in West Texas. Adult males of varying ages and a variety of proclivities enjoying intimacy are presented. Adult content.
Your financial assistance keeps Nifty posting your favorite stories: https://donate.nifty.org/
Overheated
"Pl-e-eze. We can afford two weeks in Palacios. I'm going nuts in this heat." My wife Luz told me, packing her suitcase, "And I love you in your speedos -- you big ol' naughty bear. We'll go out, swim, grill shrimpies...." She squeezed my package, fluttered her eyelashes.
My hands ran along her waist; thought about sex. Nope. Overheated, my junk didn't work. Six-months of drought and now a month into a heatwave zapped my drive.
"Who's going to watch the widows if I'm not here?" Most of our neighbors were elderly, living in rusty, dented mobile homes.
"Ask them to come, they're just as hot." Luz chuckled.
"No way." That'd be a circus; the old folks would bring their pets. Aged, drooling lap dogs, tatty felines with bad attitudes and intact scent glands. Several parakeets blanketed one woman with seed husks and feathers.
Their trailer homes were a bouquet of the fiercely independent aged with poor eyesight. Places reeked of vienna sausages and lax pet maintenance. Several big-bottomed neighbors wore diapers adding a sharp ripeness to the mix.
...
No cakewalk living in the Permian Basin. We had a small house with a big yard on the edge of a former boomtown. Yard? Just an expanse of sand and baked mud with a few scrubby bushes, weeds; plenty of rocks.
Old, nineteen-thirties house; big enough for Luz and me until we could move on to better jobs elsewhere.
Wife and I missed civilization around the campus where we met. Music, art, cinema, friends; culture. And Luz was the best of my life, steady partner, aggressive in the sack. Smart little Latina, she only wanted citizenship for a wedding gift.
...
Oilfield pump repairman instead of a phys-ed instructor, that's me. Luz tested crude oil samples holding a degree in Mayan culture. We were both billed monthly for useless sheepskins. The greed of the era pressured us into living in the convection oven called Stanton Texas. Heat zooming over a hundred every day, a few degrees cooler at night.
"Can't take off work right now."
"Remember to take the trash out and feed my birdies." She reminded me on the way to the airport.
...
On the way home I stopped at the Longhorn -- local icehouse. Dark and cool inside; my eyes had to adjust before sidling up to the bar. "Pull of Lone Star."
Wasn't but a few seconds when a frizzy-haired gal in an old straw hat sat beside me. "Good time, honey?" She whispered in a rough voice.
"Just cooling off before I get to work."
She leaned close, "I got good times." She dug a ball of plastic wrap out of her pocket. "Fresh," Whispered and looked around; "Desert magic. Found it this morning. Need gas to get to Sweetwater. You got cash?" She unwrapped the small green knots.
I examined the nodules of the little cactus. Pliable - obviously just cut. Figuring I had two weeks ahead without domestic supervision, I bought both and grabbed a case of Shiner on my way out.
....
Midnight when I got off work; still an oven outside. Ran in the house, stashed the beer in the freezer and stripped all the way to the shower. Didn't need a towel when I came out.
Standing in the weak exhale of tepid air from the old air conditioner, I looked over the backyard when a miniscule flash of light caught my eye.
A tiny, rapid glint of a light; small, moved quickly. "Darn skunks are back." I thought. "I'm gonna kill `em this time."
Took six beers from the freezer, I laid them in the sink, added ice and salted it for a fast chill. My night vision binoculars were in the hall closet; I was sweating again as I dug around and found the vinyl case.
With binocs and brews I went back to the air conditioner without turning the lights on in the bedroom and scanned the yard where I saw the flash of light. "If those skunks get under the house again, I'm getting a shotgun. Better yet, a blowtorch."
Three empty bottles, still hadn't seen a skunk. Some kind of anxiousness held the yard completely still.
Finally, small movements. Suspected horned toads, maybe snakes. Flash! Another silent glint of light. I focused and refocused.
A cat? Nah, too big. I focused, scanned.
A coyote! A lone coyote.
The puny canine froze, sniffed the air and daintily took a step forward, lapped the warm water. Why was he here? The folks down the streets never picked up their garbage - more food there.
It had to be Luz' bird feeder. Plenty of loose seed on the ground to attract whatever wanted to become coyote chow.
...
I told Luz she could have anything she wanted for her wild birds to avoid her getting a cat. She asked for the bird feeder on a pole and a new galvanized drip pan - the round kind used for draining oil from cars -- about three inches deep, and eighteen inches across.
Luz buried it in the ground so the lip was at the level of the bare, sandy earth. Every morning she refilled it with enough water for the birds to bathe and the quail to drink.
...
The coyote was probably looking for birds - but wait. Not at night.
That pan of water -- she'd filled it full before she left, must have evaporated; maybe some dampness was still in the soil from all the bathing. Hints of movement on the fine gravel and sand. Couldn't see well enough, but it seemed like maybe some lizards or maybe snakes were coming for water.
Sneaky coyote was circling his thirsty prey.
Would coyotes be enough to keep the skunks away? Started obsessing about skunks again. In the morning, I'd check for footprints or tufts of fur, see if any large black and white rodents came through.
I watched the yard through six more beers but fell asleep on the bed. Woke around three from sweaty dreams on moist sheets, drooling on the pillow.
...
Hungover in the heat is disgusting. I showered and walked through the house making sure all the curtains and blinds were tightly drawn - the first rays of dawn were upping the temperature already.
In just my flip-flops and shorts, I filled a gallon jug and left the house while my coffee was brewing. In the yard, I refilled the birdbath, approaching carefully. The sand revealed a few arcs. Snakes had come through. Around twelve feet away, I could almost make out a small dog print. The rest wasn't clear enough to distinguish.
It being Saturday morning I decided to buy a new window unit - this heat was miserable.
...
Glass doors swished open at the hardware store, and I stepped into a dim, cool space. They'd turned half the lights off to lower their heat generation; felt good. I could nap in there easily, but directed myself from the hammock display and on to the air conditioners.
Met a coworker named Frieze moonlighting in the main aisle. He helped me with loading a new unit in my cart. Always a friendly guy, he asked me to go fishing.
"What say we get ourselves down to Zapata. We'll catch dinner. The Oso Blanco Motel has a pier - roofed with some old theatre seats underneath. They hang a bare bulb down from the center beam, over the water and the fish circle below. The light draws the bugs, and the fish come to eat. We'll get several cases and make a week of it. Maybe catch a little on th' side, if ya like...." He winked, wiggled his eyebrows. "Gare-un-teed fine time, buddy."
"Nah. Same hot down there." Too much effort to fish with him though he was masculine in a thorny, half-dessicated way.
After he explained about the light bulb and the bugs, I decided I could use the pole that held the bird feeder and clamp a floodlight on it to draw bugs over the birdbath at night. Maybe get some action going, draw any skunks in the area and get a shotgun.
...
Practicing proper bachelorhood, I bought dinner on the way home. Pint of salsa and a bag of chips, another case. Figured I'd toss my peyote in the salsa and space while I watched the evening's entertainment.
Had to get that new air conditioner installed asap.
...
"Dang, it's a hundred and five." I unboxed the unit in the back of the truck and drove it around to the other bedroom window. That left me with an open view of the birdbath.
Four beers, several bandage strips, and a lot of cussing later I had the unit installed and humming.
Feeling a bit of a champ, I called Luz: "Honey, I got a new air conditioner for the bedroom. Just put it in. When can you come home?" How much time did I have for skunk elimination?
"De vera? I missy-missy you too. Why not fly down here? Sex on the beach..." She slurred. I could hear music in the background.
Kept my front up, "Animals are coming for water at your bird bath. We may get skunks under the house again."
"Well, you just do that, sweetheart." She was completely smashed.
"When are you coming home?"
"Más tarde." She began, "It's so cool here."
"I understand, lil' darlin. I'm exhausted after installing the new unit just for you." I hung up and wondered what or who she was doing.
Wired roses to her; felt the need to whitewash what I was up to.
...
Hustling, I rearranged the furniture, brought my binoculars, a comfortable chair and a tv tray for my goodies. Anti-Skunk Command Central was officially in operation.
Another trip out in the heat to the garage and I had the light mounted on the pole with an extension cord stretched to it. I decided to put the light near the ground. Refilled the birdbath to overflowing. Brought the broom, smoothed the entire area. Hoped to get some good footprints in case my eyes got tired.
Slept hard for several hours in the cool air. When I woke up, I noticed the sheets smelled funky, like hops, and soured beer sweat. Again my bachelor habits came to the fore. Grabbing a container with perforations on the lid, I powdered the bed liberally instead of changing the sheets.
Instantly, the room smelled like tropical fruit heaven, cool, dark; eliciting images of mangos, passion fruit, hot monkey sex.
Showered again and put my dinner together. Chopped the peyote into miniscule chunks, swirled it through the salsa, got my bag of chips and a couple of long-necks. Grabbed my "emergency baggie" on the way.
The earth was still radiating heat. That would continue for hours while I lined up some music. "Sinatra or metallica?" I brought both and grabbed an album of Sousa marches. I smelled triumph over skunks coming soon.
...
Switched on the light I'd mounted on the birdfeeder, lifted my binocs, got into chips and salsa readying for a laid-back evening.
"Too early." I thought and lit a doob before I took a long draw of icy brew.
My skin was dry and cool and I was waiting for my cactus to creep it's tendrils through the THC and into my consciousness. Except for Luz being gone, this was paradise; that's why it was paradise.
Quiet, cool and the curtain was about to rise on a trauma-drama. Stop. I called Luz. "Get the roses, hon?"
"Thanks. Sniffing them now. When you flying out? Sis and I are going dancing tonight - barbeque tomorrow at Mom's."
"Your cousin Moises hanging around acting a fool again?"
"As usual. He's picking us up in a few minutes."
"He's a world-class jerk - stay away from him. I miss you."
...
Binoculars held steady, I studied the pool of light under the bird feeder. A few bugs flitted around. "Somebody's got to be hungry." I scanned the yard, "or thirsty."
It didn't take long for the winged appetizers to attract a diner. A horned toad approached; running, then stopping, glancing around quickly. He soaked water through his belly skin from the moisture around the pan and left.
There were glimpses of lights from the eyes of other animals waiting in the scrubby weeds along the fence. Each one waiting for the other to make the first move. Hungry hunters sizing up their chances of a meal or being one. Sadly, it was the smaller mammals that needed to eat and drink more often. A sacrifice was coming.
Another beer. Chips and salsa.
Brain started to fray, Sinatra was never smoother. "Dooby, dooby doo...." Another hit, "...strangers in the night....".
...
Almost unnoticed, the hallucinogen permeated the neuron mass in my skull, and I felt myself rise from my body, out through the roof and into the nighttime sky. Only my shape; the outline of my body pulsed through the stars looking back at the planet.
Honing back in on the desert, I allowed my outline to rub my ethereal belly against the mesas, through the oilfields as I cruised above the landscape.
Not cool. Not hot. Not anything. Just invisibly floating along with the sensations fueled by ancient herbs. "Oh, yea, pay-oh-tay!" I wiggled my toes to check my depth of stone; it was deep.
Mescaline-throttle opened wide, I swooped close to earth, saw a hole in the side of a mesa. Entered the small cave to feel a sting through my invisible being; skunk den! Ugh. Dropped back into my real body, sniffed the air for the bitter stench -- nothing.
Thoughts were broken by movement near the birdbath. Another long draw and a check with the binoculars; espied several tiny mice scurrying nervously to drink.
Bam! Too slow, mousey!
Pale, four-foot king snake jumped into the light and grabbed the one mouse anxiously sipping the warm water. Other mice vanished, leaving small dust clouds. But there was the snake, with a permanently cheesy smile, wrapping his meal in a tenderizing embrace.
Other eyes watched from the distance. Glints shot from the darkness. They were closer. Maybe it was the coyotes again. Could be a feral cat; probably a skunk.
...
Getting up for another beer I had to enter the hot part of the house. It almost ruined my stone. The peyote had made the bottoms of my feet numb so I felt like I was gliding through warmth toward liquid relief.
Above the refrigerator was the water bottle my wife used to mist her plants. I took it down and misted my naked body and felt like I was coated with stardust. I brought several more longnecks. More salsa; more chips.
I tried another mystical trip to Palacious, wondering if I could see my wife's sweet face.
How did I ever get so lucky? I'm a hairy brute, all muscle with my father's ugly scowl. Now I'm a mechanic -- dirty fingernails, smelling like diesel and constantly complaining about poor engineering. Spent a lot of time stomping around the house looking for something that I'd already put in my pocket.
Couldn't dance.
Hated haircuts.
Didn't clean up well.
My little Latina loved me. Unfortunately, she loved her cousin Moises, too. Surely, it was strictly familial love, but I suspected he'd jump her if he had half the chance.
...
And I was married despite being a hulking brute with mismatched parts. My prick wasn't anywhere near in proportion to the rest of my body - it was more adolescent than adult. Luz never said anything; guess it worked well enough for her.
Showed her the surgical and other enlargement options. Luz wouldn't let me try. She said if it didn't work out, we'd be left without any fun. She was right; and there was something else I couldn't put my finger on and surgery couldn't change it.
"Get off the road to Fretsville; you'll ruin your high." I reminded myself and picked up the binocs.
...
Under the floodlight, a very large black beetle approached the water on long thin legs. He moved cautiously. "There's a bite-sized morsel for some lucky skunk."
No one jumped out. He drank and left - must taste too awful to eat. Quickly, as the beetle left, a small covey of quail scurried to the water and started drinking, lifting their heads to swallow. Several decided to enjoy seeds that had fallen on the ground.
Suckers.
That thin, mangy coyote sprung out of the darkness like a lightning bolt and grabbed one, loped back into the darkness after only a few short squeaks from the bird.
More salsa; more chips, more beer. Couldn't hold my head up for the enormity of outer space nestled inside my cranium. Started spinning in an orbit, better lay down.
In bed, my trip became a nightmare as I felt the chalky powder on my sheets had turned into something like pea gravel underneath me. Nah, my skin couldn't get scoured from the fruity smelling talcum.
Without turning the light on, I reached in the closet, grabbed something long to wrap myself and fell on the bed, totally blitzed, but floating along on a cool, blue-green ocean in some mythological, verdant land.
The pea gravel sensation transformed into tiny whitecaps underneath me and the waves were silky and smooth on my skin. Under the full impact of the cactus, a strong, bearded face arose in front of me. Odysseus? Sure looked like him.
We talked Trojans and sirens, skunks and music. Heck of a guy -- he liked Sinatra, too.
...
Woke up the next afternoon in my wife's negligee, and staggered to the toilet for a long piss that felt incredibly good until it stopped and I was slammed with a razor-edged headache.
Stood shakily - undecided momentarily. Then I vomited myself inside-out.
...
Stumbling and cussin' I repacked all the empty beer bottles in their crate, Took it to the truck. Corn chips and salsa dotted the floor where I'd sat reminding me to eat real food soon.
When I refilled the birdbath, it seemed like something raucous happened after I fell asleep. The gravel and sand were scattered. Blood on the soil. A few splatters on the bulb protector. I didn't smell skunk. Yet.
...
Maybe I shouldn't have, but I decided to entice a little more nighttime action and I knew just what to use: cheese balls. Those neon-orange crunchy snacks. Before leaving, I threw the sheets and that robe thing into the washer along with my work clothes and left.
Jeez, it was hell outside. Weather lady said it was going to be a hundred and fifteen - getting down to a cool hundred and two tonight; tropical depression forming in the gulf. I shut off the radio.
Case of beer, chips, bag of cheese balls, bread, braunschweiger and mustard. Dinner of the gods.
...
When I pulled my jeans out of the washer, I noticed that there were streaks of white on everything. "What's that about?"
Tossed everything back in and started the washer again, remembering the sensation those sheets gave me. The scratching and the whitecaps, meeting the most famous sailor ever. "Oh, yea, pay-you-tay."
...
The braunschweiger called.
Sliced an onion, and slathered the pasty pink goop on the bread, drew a smiley face on it with the mustard and added the onion. Two beers and several sandwiches later I belched; quite satisfied with my set-up.
With the bag of cheese treats and more water, I refilled the birdbath and placed plenty of orange cheese snacks around it.
Back at the washer, I stuffed everything into the dryer, set it whirling and called Luz.
"Miss you, sweetie."
"Really?"
I could hear music in the background. "Wanted to hear your voice. What's shakin?""
"Moises and I are taking Sis out."
Well, that chapped me enough to open another beer.
"That better be a soda, or did I just hear you open a beer?" She asked.
"So?" I shot back.
"Honey, no more rehab. You'll be gone at least a month again."
"Well, what am I supposed to do?" Instant defensiveness jumped from my guilt. "Don't start harpin' on me in this heat!"
"Okay, just saying it was rough on me when you were gone." She said softly.
"Same here." I calmed down, recalling the goofy support groups, the fees, the fines. Sheesh, a man can't have any fun. "Love you."
"Me too." Sigh.
...
At the dryer, I pulled the laundry out and noticed the sheer, silky negligee I'd slipped on in the dark was now a knot of synthetic gunk. All the fuzzy trim had assumed rigor mortis resembling text from a Middle Eastern language.
Definitely not sexy. This was going to get me in trouble, so I opened another beer and carefully rehung it in the closet. That's when I noticed the tiny matching panties and bra - they were slick and cool.
"Women get all the good stuff." I rubbed my fingers along the shiny elastic and polyester lace. While I had them in my hand, a very creative thought came: Grabbing my dick, I wound the panties around my junk until they held me tightly, half-erect.
That felt good enough for another brew.
The sun was setting, and I was cool. In the kitchen I gathered the salsa, chips and more beer. Chopped up my "pay-oh-tay," singing all the while, thinking I needed to get back to the Longhorn to see if I could find that gal again. Figured I had ten or eleven more days to play.
Vowing to avoid rehab again, I promised myself not to drink until the temperature was over ninety degrees. Heh, heh.
...
Back at command central, I flipped the bird feeder light on and picked up my binocs.
Strains of Willie and Browne washed over mek. After the fracas last night and now with the cheese balls, this should be a rewarding evening.
I thought about skunks again. Never did figure out how Luz got rid of them, but their stink was unreal, like tar, asphalt and it was strong. Permeated the entire house for days. I think she chased them away with mothballs; "A shotgun's faster."
On and off, I dozed through the evening, and could barely open my eyes when commotion started under the light. Snarls, and growling, and a high-pitched yelp. Glanced out to see the tiny, feeble chihuahua from the trailer next door sniffing a cheese ball. Coyote pounced. Happened so fast, I almost didn't see it.
The coyote whipped the lapdog around after grabbing him by the neck and ran back into the weeds with his hot dinner dangling from his jaws.
Switched the flood light off. I watched to see if the old lady next door, I think her name was Willa, had seen the demise of her pet.
...
Didn't have to wait long; Willa was pounding on the back door, shaking the whole house.
"You stinkin' ass! I oughtta shove my fist up your butt and turn you right-side out!"
I opened the door to her, feeling a rush of moisture. Rain? I didn't notice, only saw the face of a screaming old biddy with blood in her eye. She went on for a long time, then pulled her phone out.
Mellow peyote haze was suddenly a jagged, frightening nightmare from the baritone filth Willa spewed. My indulgences had eroded my coherence. Petrified, I stood there feeling smaller by the second.
Something wasn't right. "Willa, are you a man?"
"What's it to ya?" She continued her acidic diatribe. Suddenly she stopped -- and started laughing, a deep, husky laugh. Then she blinded me by taking several photos of me, then the kitchen.
Her hand went to my groin and she flicked the sateen panties. "Having yourself a good time, honey? Never figured you for a sissy-boy, and I do mean boy!"
Stunned, couldn't speak; still reeling with the dope, the verbal assault.
With a big grin, she changed tone: "Luz told us to keep a sharp eye on you while she was gone. You know she'll be back tomorrow morning?"
Covered my groin with one hand, reached for my phone with the other. When the screen lit there were five messages from Luz with the information on her return flight.
"Looks like you wanna make a deal." Willa thumped my ear hard. She waved her phone at me, reminding me she had photos of my current state.
We negotiated briefly. Willa had the upper hand. Do recall something about helping her around her trailer in exchange for hiding the skid marks of my behaviors. She mentioned something about animal abuse.
"Okay, boy. Get all the beer and the bottles under my trailer. Now!"
Yeah, I jumped into action.
...
Willa was the tallest of the widows, and was married to a fiddle player who was very popular back'n the day. She stood several inches above me, and was thin; kept her grooming in order. No whiff of pee around her--she smelled like fancy flowers.
After stashing the cases, she sent me back out to clean up around the bird feeder, "You sick son of a bitch, I saw that coyote come up and get my Mr. Peanut. Least I won't have to pay for euthanasia now, but you're one sick fucker. Sick, sick, sick - I saw it all. You were watching it go down; I oughta report you to the sheriff."
My stomach tensed, got nauseated when I remembered getting a good chewing out from the last judge I spoke with. He told me to never come back to court for any reason "or else."
Willa kept on me, and when I'd returned from removing the floodlight. I was ordered to the shower, while she started a pot of coffee. "And wash under ya'damn sausage collar! I can smell you from here, you degenerate; you murderer!"
I could hear her tossing things in the trash as I came out of the shower.
"Where's the dope?" She yelled.
"In the salsa."
"Where's the salsa, you dolt?" She snapped back.
She poured it down the garbage disposal; my last baggie was emptied afterward
...
In the bedroom, she looked around and started snapping the sheets to cover the bed, but a cloud of white powder flew up.
"What the hell?" She screamed.
"Sheets stunk so I used some powder...." I was glazed in shame and guilt.
"Like a two-bit whore! What kind of powder?"
Holding up the container, "This."
"That's carpet deodorizer, idiot - can't you read? Put all that crud in the trash and take it over to my garbage cans. Hide your wreckage." She pointed at my "command central."
When I came back, I heard the washer going, and the vacuum cleaner running, and my head felt like it was undergoing an extended earthquake.
After a cup of coffee, I was still nauseated, woozy.
...
Willa had complete control over me now. That made me queasy, or maybe it was all the crap I'd done.
Back in the bathroom, I peed and then vomited again. Willa was yelling for me to tell Luz she'd borrowed the negligee for a hot date. Willa laughed, singing "hot fun in the summertime" but substituting fuck for fun.
"Dust the bedroom, straighten the furniture." Willa continued chastising me for staying drunk and using drugs - telling me every way it would hurt Luz and myself as she started the dishwasher. "Do you want a divorce? Jail time equals divorce faster than rehab!"
When she said that, it cleared my mind, and I checked my phone. Luz would be on the first plane into Midland. Didn't have long to get myself sober and drive forty-five miles without getting another ticket.
Willa was way ahead of me: "We'll use my truck - you filthy bastard, and I'm driving. You're calling out of work tomorrow, stay home with Luz, and treat her like a queen. Take her out for dinner, give her the whole romantic routine. Go shave, scrub your fingernails -- get decent."
Willa brought a half a quart of milk, boxes and cans of real food to leave around the kitchen as fake proof I'd eaten like an adult.
...
Willa kept glancing at me as she drove. She reached into the glove box and brought out some eye-white drops and a tissue. "Won't fix your kind of ugly, but use this." She continued insulting me and cussing me.
A few miles down the road,, "Willa, you knowI wasn't feeling so good when you came to the door and took those pics. We need to renegotiate."
"Going for your third spin-dry, loser?" She asked.
"What?" How did she know I'd been in rehab twice before?
"Janine, the purple-haired lady in 6604. She crochets at the courthouse. Saw your name on the docket, and listened to the whole spiel you laid on the judge. Seems you've made the same bad decisions several times. Ever thought about a family with Luz? Ain't gonna happen with a drunk. Next exit, Split City, sissy-boy."
Well, that was the rehab message in brief and it wasn't all: I was now Willa's slave.
...
We picked up Luz with smiles and hugs. Luz was surprised to see me with Willa, but we said we had coffee together celebrating the rain.
The next day, I took off work and stayed home with Luz. I carefully undressed her while she moaned and told me to hurry up. The gentleman in me offered his half best. I wasn't fully present thinking about the possibility of jail time if Willa snitched.
...
Willa turned out to be a friend with strange benefits; there was a touch of domineering in the way she treated me. Willa wasn't a woman, but a man who enjoyed slippery satin and lace, the easier role of a woman. Statuesque, she spoke with a deep whisper through rouged lips.
She-he demanded that I come over for several hours on Tuesday nights while Luz watched cooking shows. Willa required I work nude, cleaning her trailer house. . She-he had a penchant for my hairy body. My back and my butt was stroked as I vacuumed, scoured the tub and cleaned the windows before the desire for drugs was spanked out of me again.
Willa attributed her gender fluidity to ignoring the labels and doing as she pleased. She-he explained it simply, "Life's too short."
"Were you married?" I wasn't completely opposed to the idea of homosexuality, switch hitting or cross dressing. Even enjoyed boy-boy foolin' around till they grew adult size wangers and I didn't.
"Sure. After my wife left, I took a man. Got two families; kids, grandkids. They love me dearly." He struck a pose with nose lifted. "I've made an incredible life for myself. May get hitched again."
Willa took a shine to my "dinky-dick" as she called it, manually polished it with oil Got plenty of her rod. Her only requirement was my utmost discretion and complete subservience. After she-he thrummed my joy spot discretion was easy. It left me speechless.
Through my indenture with Willa, my perspective changed. It was that or become the old man at the bar stumbling home every night alone. I learned a lot from her-him about living a labelless life -- it's just easier to live and let live.
Between Willa and Luz, I sorted myself out. Grew the balls to admit I was queer, but couldn't say it out loud.
...
Next spring, Willa and Luz were thick as thieves. Luz had her proclivities as well. She went for more open-minded gents wearing peach blush and Chanel knock--offs.
The weekend of the Sweetwater Rattlesnake Roundup, they took off. After diamondback burgers, they went for makeovers in Dallas, so they said.
...
Unsupervised again, I stopped by the icehouse on my way home. Cool, dark, I purveyed the neon signs with all the brands of beer. Remembered the heatwave incident, "Fanta on the rocks."
Sat at the bar stewing in my memories as the sugar kicked in when my coworker Frieze shows up, sits next to me, orders sangria.
"Long time, no see." He nodded. "Heard you laid the evil on Mr. Peanut. Willa was really ticked."
He knew Willa? "What else did she say?"
"Drug your name through the cow patties for a while. Not much else. I had to change the filters in her air conditioner." Looked at me from the corner of his eye and chuckled. "Piledriver, ain't she?"
Hmm. Had to change the subject. "How come you moonlight at the hardware store? Thought you made plenty at the pump shop."
"Like the atmosphere down there -- mostly men. Got a few favorite customers if you know what I mean." Little finger lifted, sipping his wine.
His eyes cruised my body and his hand came to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Augers on sale this weekend if you need some drilling." Uncomfortable, I got up to leave and stopped by the restroom.
Frieze followed me. Side by side at the urinals, he looked over at my dick, "Sweet little niblet ya' got there."
He spun me around and knelt. Sucked my surprised cock into his mouth and told me he'd been waiting for a man like me all his life as he took me to the back stall.
Few moments later, my load coated his tonsils. He stood and kissed me, giving my load back to me. Surprising, and as he unzipped for the favor returned, I looked over his shoulder. On the stall door, graffiti read: "9" hot rod. Call Freeze." Phone number followed.
Was that Frieze? The same Frieze pulling out his huge tool, big around as a fence post? Dropped trou and turned around; the rub of my dreams was about to happen.
His spit hit my hole, "One hand on the wall, the other on your cock." I was instructed while he tugged my balls. Felt his hot pre smearing the spit over my hole.
Spring-loaded entry. "Ung."
Hurt for a while, and I didn't think he'd ever stop pushing his shaft in. Took a while to feel good; felt better when he softly sang "...It turned out so right... Doo-bee-doo-bee-doo." Filthy stall aside, it was great. Grinning, kissing Frieze; had to have more of him.
...
Barkeep slipped him a fifty as we left.
"What's that about?" Would I get a fifty, too?
"Friendly wager. Never met a man who needed a good fuck more'n you."
Was it obvious? Didn't matter. He made money off my personal needs; that stung.
Before he could slip the bill into his wallet, I grabbed it, shoved it in my jeans, "Thanks for the candlelight dinner, flowers, champagne and a night in a ritzy hotel."
Frieze rolled his eyes, "High class bitch, are ya'? Never woulda known by the looks of you."
I disregarded the second insult, my sex drive was never higher. Went to my place, enjoyed the air conditioning and ourselves several times. At it again in the morning when Luz and Willa walked in and caught us. Both of them announced their plans to divorce me right in front of Frieze.
Stunned and confused, I couldn't speak; Frieze laughed.
At that point in my life, all the whitewashing I'd painted over my queerness fell away. All I wanted was out of this craziness and coercion. "Out! Everyone out. You, too, Frieze. Get your things and leave."
They grumbled, they left, "And don't call me for a week." Had to sort out my life.
...
Took a week off work, avoided the Longhorn. I'd have to diivorce Luz; but she had ten more months to obtain citizenship. Paperwork could be completed before that.
Willa's blackmail? I'd call her hand, suspecting she had to have something strange in her past. If she didn't I'd surreptitiously clog her sewer line. I guess she meant she'd nix her benefits when she said she'd divorce me. I could live without the cleaning and spankings.
Frieze? I still had his fifty. Had to cut him loose, that two-faced jerk and wish him a skunk infestation.
...
On Friday night, I was thirsty -- considered buying a case. Stopped myself. It won't fix my predicament. "Live and let live."
Wait, these were my only friends.
Decided to let go of the little shit. My priority was to enjoy myself wherever and whenever with whomever. Threw off my mantle of guilt and shame and began plotting how to repair my broken relationships.
Didn't have to think long. Around nine-thirty, here comes Willa with her tupper, two gallons of sweet tea and cupcakes. Luz followed with a huge pot of tamales. Before long, Frieze' truck pulled in the drive with pseudo champagne, flowers and a gift wrapped box.
Didn't need to make amends, laughter and sharing photos over a great dinner rejoined us. At some point, I felt the comfort I wanted. They probably had it as hard as me on this tumbleweed plantation.
...
The gift wrapped box? After Luz and Willa left, Frieze brought it to me: "If you're kicking me to the curb, you might need this. Still look like you need a good fuckin', sweetheart." Nine inch dildo with a vibrator, remote control, still in the wrapper.
"Anytime you want the real thing --."
Lust reignited. I pulled him to the bedroom, pulled his boots off, turned the AC to its coldest..
In the thick of it, he was plumbing my depths with his pleasure stick; I was moaning, begging for more. Slippery with sweat, I began pushing back. On the edge, I was ready, "Harder!" Tilted my head back, took a deep breath.
Suddenly everything soured. Stopped as I caught a whiff of skunk.
Nudge, nudge: https://donate.nifty.org/