Raymond Fields lay on his hotel bed bored and lonely. He hated these extended business trips. Thirty days on the road always led to boredom. This trip seemed worse then most. The assignment he was on did not require any overtime, which left him with way too much free time to fill. In the ten days he had been in Memphis, Ray had already seen every pay-per-view, porn and regular, on the hotel system. He knew what he really needed was someone to share the oversized Jacuzzi and king-sized bed in his room.
Since he had no significant other, Ray had no travel companion for long trips. Actually Ray preferred the lone wolf life. At home he had enough friends who were regular bedmates to keep his horniness in check when new conquests weren't happening. On the road he usually managed to find one or two local partners. This trip his co-workers all seemed to be mated for life so nothing doing there. Ray had tried a few of the bars near his hotel but had not found any companionship yet. Tonight he was going to walk the two blocks to Beale Street and check out the famous Memphis music scene. He didn't hold out any hope for finding action in those clubs, but hell he thought a night of booze and good music would at least relieve the boredom.
Ray put on his favorite sex-hunting outfit anyway and headed for the lobby. At 40 Ray was still as fit has he had been when he was a three-sport star in college. Ray's perfectly proportioned tall body caused a few heads to turn as he headed down the street. Ray's unassuming nature seemed to indicate he had no idea that he was unusually handsome. His eyes were a startling shade of blue and his thick wavy brown hair did not have a fleck of gray yet. He wore a stylish short-cropped mustache and goatee.
Ray turned the corner and joined the throng of Elvis worshipping tourists on Beale Street. He was amused by the endless places that were ready to take the rubes' dollars. As he searched for the joint his local coworkers recommended he read the neon signs that seemed to scream out for attention. He began to think his coworkers had misled him, as the addresses were way off from the one he had been given. He looked up at the numbers painted above the door to a place called 'Elvis Presley's Memphis Restaurant'. The sign promised cooking like Elvis' mom made. The only reason he didn't double over laughing was the concern he had when he saw the numbers 126 and realized he must be at least a few of miles from the address he was given.
Ray walked to the curb and climbed into a waiting cab. By the time the cab pulled to the curb again, Ray could see he was clearly no longer in the glitzy part of town meant for tourists. When Ray paid the cabbie, the driver offered his card.
"Look, y'all should give ol' Billy at the dispatch a call 'bout 20 minutes for'in you be wantin to go back to the hotel. Wouldn't be a right smart idear, for a handsome rich looking yankee to be hanging on the street here abouts later. Just tell Billy that I said I would fetch ya," the cabbie said and flashed a big toothy grin.
Ray pocketed the card and thanked the driver as he stepped out on the sidewalk. He wondered a bit what he might be getting into as he looked around the mostly deserted area. Though it was very run down, it really didn't seem like such a bad neighborhood. Besides he had been in some really rough places in his time and he could handle himself pretty well.
Ray chuckled when he saw the sign on the dingy storefront that led to the recommended spot. Underneath the neon sign that despite several burned out letters, Ray knew said 'Sammy's Pit', was a very cliché, dancing pigs sign. Below the pigs, the neon once spelled out 'Blues, BBQ and Booze'. Ray pushed open the door and stepped into the dark café. Before his eyes adjusted well enough to see in the dimly lit entrance, Ray could hear the music playing in the back room. It was good old southern jazz and the band sounded as if they were born to play the instruments. His immediate thoughts were that indeed it would be a pleasant evening. A big man that reminded Ray of Bubba from the movie Forest Gump walked up to the old wooden podium that served as a host station.
"Y'all want a table or will ya be settin to the bar?" he asked Ray nonchalantly as if he didn't care if Ray stood in the doorway all night.
Ray asked for a table where the music was playing. Bubba led him back through the café. Ray took his seat and ordered a draft and a shot of sipping whisky as the waiter handed him the hand-typed menu. Ray never drank whisky and beer together, but somehow it seemed to be the thing to do at Sammy's Pit. As he waited for his drink, Ray surveyed the room.
There was a mahogany bar running the length of the far wall. Between the shelves that held bottles of every imaginable kind of liquor hung large ornately framed oil paintings. Ray could see that this was once a very nice joint or perhaps a high-class brothel based on the subject of the paintings. They appeared to be a series depicting a romanticized version of a Roman orgy painted in a bygone era, a time when desirable women were voluptuous in more then just their breasts. No anorexic babes for Sammy's place.
The tables and bar stools were about half filled with a very mixed group of clearly local patrons. The band had five members, piano, drums and three horns. The older gentleman singing could have given Louis Armstrong and Mel Torme lessons in smooth.
Ray ordered dinner when the waiter returned with his drink. He opted for Sammy's Platter, which included, if he was reading the misspelled menu correctly, generous heaps of shredded beef and pulled pork BBQ, a half rack of Sammy's smoked ribs smoothed in hot sauce, a pot of momma's down home beans and a mess of Sammy's home-fried potatoes. Ray left his question unasked, preferring to sit and enjoy his wisecrack alone.
"Will I actually be able to feel my arteries hardening when the lard soaked potatoes go down and do you have a crash cart handy?"
Ray sipped down about half the shot of whiskey and then took a long pull on his beer. The whisky was good, very smooth; the beer decidedly cheap and bitter. The band struck up a peppy number and several couples headed toward the dance floor. The young couple in the booth next to Ray's table got up to join the dancers. Ray took notice of them when he sat down. He imagined most everyone took notice of the sexy couple; they were the type of people that just somehow demanded you take notice. They appeared to be somewhere in their mid-twenty's, though they may have just been so attractive they looked younger. Both were wearing what Ray would call "come fuck me" outfits, however they were clearly a couple that had been together for some time.
Ray watched the couple dance as he finished his shot. They were doing a sort of modified jitterbug. Ray was impressed with the couple's style and their uninhibited merry-making. The sexy couple stood out from the group on the small dance floor as they brought the sleepy little joint to life. The strong young man easily tossed his hot partner around in perfect time to the beat. Her short skirt rode up frequently exposing her sexy garters and thong, as well as her taught round ass-cheeks. When the number finished and the dance stopped, the audience applauded as much for the dancers as for the band.
The next song was a slow sultry jazz tune. The singer who earlier had invoked Satchmo was now melting the ladies panties ala Barry White. The couple remained on the dance floor, their bodies pressed tightly together, moving as one to the sensual rhythm of the music. The man unashamedly caressed his lover's ass as she ground her sex against his thigh. All eyes were now glued to the couple. Ray felt his heart quicken as he watched the man's hips move in a familiar fashion. Although unseen, Ray knew the man was rubbing his bulging manhood against his lady. Ray felt a stirring in his pants as the couple moved so that the woman's back was to the room. As her hips swayed to the sensual beat the man nonchalantly raised her skirt giving the room the treat of a full view of her sweet alluring ass, which was left fully exposed by the tight black thong she wore. After a few quick caresses of her naked flesh the song came to an end, as did the dance and the show. The audience applauded and whistled. There was no question who they were applauding this time. The smile on the bandleaders face indicated that was just fine with him.
As the couple tried to make their way back to their table, a waiter serving a large party blocked them. The couple was stopped right next to Ray. The woman's sexy, nylon-cover thighs were just inches from Ray's knee. Ray smiled at the couple and told them how much he had enjoyed their dance. In return he heard the sexiest, sweetest, southern voice he had ever had the pleasure to hear.
