This is likely to be viewed as a return to my darker side - it certainly turned out much differently than I initially conceived it. I will be keenly interested in your feedback. As always, it is a work of fiction and all characters exist only within the confines of the story and my head. Enjoy!
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The doorman cradled a sawed-off double barrel in his arms, swinging it my way as I approached the entrance. His eyes swept warily over me, not liking what he was seeing -- not the least being, I was armed...heavily armed and that he was assuming -- quite correctly -- that I was new in town. The rusty and begrimed barrels swung in my direction. "You got money?" he said in a gruff voice.
I nodded and slowly reached into a haversack on my shoulder. Just as slowly, I pulled out a can of beans -- the label still un-faded and clean. His eyes went wide as I said, "I have more than just one."
He nodded as he lowered the shotgun, saying with a little more respect. "No trouble now...we run a nice, respectable place here." I nodded, feeling his eyes on me as I went through the entrance, down a long dark corridor and emerged into a dim, smoke-filled room where in front of me a woman was bent over a table and a large, fat man was angrily thrusting his erect cock into her cunt. She was moaning in response, though if it was pleasure or pain, I couldn't tell.
The part of me that hadn't been with a woman since last winter on the high plains of Wyoming roamed appreciatively over the parts of her I could see -- large, meaty breasts flattening out against the dirty surface of the table and long, well shaped legs and the moons of a firm ass. I tore my gaze away from the exhibition and focused on reconnoitering the room.
Most of the room's light came from dozens of rows of old Christmas lights that spelled out the words, "The Step Right Inn" hanging on the wall above the long, authentic bar that ran along the far wall. Behind the bar was maybe the greasiest man I'd ever seen -- his very skin seemed to gleam and his hair almost seemed to drip with grease. He had it combed back into what my granddaddy would have called a "D.A." He frowned at me as he cleaned a glass with a rag almost as dirty as he was.
Several men were scattered about the room -- sitting two and three at a table. In the corner I would have liked to have placed myself -- the one with the best field of fire and sitting in shadow, smoke emerged and the glint off something metal, like a shirt button or the end of a pistol barrel. I opted for the best table I could find against a wall and no one sitting closer than five feet away. Still too close for comfort, but one doesn't always get one's way.
The bartender stared sullenly at me for a moment, apparently disappointed that I didn't come to the bar. Some of the crowd stared my way for a bit, but then turned back to their own business or eyed the couple fucking with a mix of amusement and envy. The woman's face was shrouded by thick and tangled locks of peppered hair. Her ragged fingernails clawed the tabletop as she moaned while the fat man sweated profusely -- his anger replaced by a blissful, almost idiotic look on his face.
To spur some service, I reached into my haversack again...moving slowly, and drew out that can of beans again and then a larger one of sweet potatoes. The bartender's eyes widened but he made no move to come take my order. Instead he turned and glowered at the couple fucking, finally yelling in a high pitched voice, "Goddammit, bitch -- make that dumb farmer cum already. You got customers to wait on!"
Several of the other men in the room chuckled at that, their laughter abruptly stopping as a deep, edgy voice rumbled from the shadowed corner, "Get your own ass in gear, Howard. You're making a paying customer wait and the bitch has two more to take care of after Wilbur there. Besides...you know how much Alice looks forward to Wilbur's big cock each month -- don't be hurrying her."
Greasy Howard paled at the man's words and scurried around the bar and came to me. "Whatcha want?" he said, his hand hesitantly reaching out for the cans and then pulling back.
"Whiskey if you have it and food -- cooked and clean," I replied.
"We got moonshine up from Tennessee -- smooth stuff," he replied, "And we make a mean rabbit stew -- raise 'em right out back," Howard replied. He turned and looked at the shadows, "Got beans and sweet taters, Boss," he said. He raised a hand and I heard the calm tick of a hand held Geiger counter. "They's clean, too."
The dark voice seemed to mellow as he said, "Pays for all the whiskey you can drink tonight and supper and breakfast. You got another clean can -- you can have a woman for the evening too...all to yourself."
I nodded and pushed the cans towards Howard and said, "Fair deal on this...I'll think awhile on the woman." I heard a grunt of assent from the shadows and the bartender scooped the cans up and hurried away. He came back in a moment with a dirty glass filled with an almost clear liquid. After I took a sip, I wasn't worried about the dirt -- nothing was going to live in that white lightning.
While I waited for my food, the fat man -- Wilbur began huffing and puffing -- increasing his thrusts while the woman keened with what sounded to me like pleasure. Certainly, she was now thrusting back to meet his cock. Several men began betting on how long it would take him to cum. I felt a tightening in my pants as my own cock began responding to the woman's deep moans. Something in her plaintive and clearly carnal moans touched me in a way I couldn't define. The table began scraping along the floor as the fat farmer really began throwing his meat into the woman's pussy and then both screamed as he began to cum and she threw her head back, hair still covering most of her face, but unable to conceal the sneer of pleasure on her lips.
Several of the other men clapped or slapped their tables with their palms and a few chinks of metal -- mostly bullets were passed to an older man who grinned and held them up to the shadows across from me. A minute or two went by before Farmer Wilbur stepped back, making the woman groan as he withdrew what turned out to be a sizable chunk of flesh from her pussy with a very audible noise of sucking wetness -- his slowly shrinking shaft dripping with their combined juices. A minute more and the woman staggered up and wobbled to the bar -- moving with slightly bowlegged movements and I imagined that Wilbur's big dick wasn't the first she'd had today or would be the last.
She took a sip from a glass offered by Howard and then wiping her mouth, turned and gazed around the room through thick strands of black and gray hair, displaying unashamedly, a mature and fine looking body to everyone in the bar. Large, pendulous breasts hung with some sagging on her chest -- thick nipples protruding prominently from wide aureoles. Her stomach revealed some age -- a few faint stretch marks over a mostly flat stomach -- showing off that small pooch that most women never shake after childbirth. Nice legs traveled upwards to end in a thick patch of black bush, currently split wide by swollen labia -- Wilbur's seed spattered and leaking from her spread open pussy. My cock lurched in my pants and I began to consider that maybe I could spare a can of food after all. She was a bit dirty -- like everyone here, including me, a bath would have done her good. Her hair was a mare's nest of tangles, hanging down over her face, obscuring her looks. And again, something about her seemed to speak to something deep within me.
"Nick's next, bitch," the voice in the shadows barked, making her jump slightly.
She nodded and in a voice almost too soft to be heard, replied, "Yes, Master." The woman walked to the table where the old man who'd won the bet was waiting, his cock already out. "How may I please you?" she murmured...both dread and anticipation in her voice.
"I'd appreciate a good blowjob," the old man said, his voice rising with excitement. The woman nodded and slowly went to her knees and with movements born of long experience took him into her mouth -- slowly and luxuriously began to suck his semi-erect penis. They were both in profile to me and I inwardly groaned as I leaned more and more towards giving up another can of my precious supply.
