by T. S. Hill
Within a few minutes, we all three struggled to our feet, and between hugs and kisses of gratitude, we washed over each other’s bodies a final time. Once we were dried and dressed, Rosita rushed off to get to Mrs. Donovan’s on time, while Lori and I crashed into kitchen chairs, waiting for the second pot of coffee to complete its perk cycle.
Chapter Nine
Two Steps Forward, One Step Back
When you have a long way to go, and a short time to get there, you may not go fast, but you will go hard.
“I feel guilty sitting here while Rosita has to rush off to work.”, Lori lamented.
“I don’t know where she reached to find the energy to walk out of here, much less work today!”, I replied. “What time do we need to leave to pick up Sasha in Lafayette?”
“Oh shit!”, Lori shouted. “What fucking time is it?”
“A quarter ‘til nine”, I answered after glancing at the stove clock.
“We gotta go now, Cowboy!”, she blurted excitedly, jumping out of her chair. “We’re gonna be late! The last email that I got from her said that it would be fine if we were there by ten o’clock. We’re gonna haveta haul ass!”
“Get our things together, our pistols and other travel shit, and I’ll pour us a thermos of coffee.”, I rattled back at her.
As I fired up Little Poss and began our careening drive down the long sand and gravel drive, Lori hooked up the GPS and stowed everything else away. I knew the fastest path to Lafayette, but had no idea about the location of the bus station, so the GPS would again earn its keep today.
Once we were out on highway ninety, I was, of course, afraid that driving very much above the speed limit, might attract unwanted law enforcement attention, and so kept my speed within five miles per hour above the limits. The adrenalin rush that had pushed us out the door, began to wear off after twenty miles of monotonous travel, so Lori poured us a cup of coffee, and we began to chat.
Since Rosita had entered our embrace yesterday, this was the first real block of time in which we had been able to have any kind of discussion; let alone a private one. After taking a large sip of her coffee, Lori released a huge sigh and started the conversation.
“Cowboy, I love Rosita to death! I really do. And so far, I don’t know a thing that I would change about her. But right now, I’m exhausted, and I’m so glad that we can finally have this little bit of time together, alone.”
“Hmm.”, I mused. “Sweetheart, I was feeling the exact same thing. You just said it first. So, consider yourself as speaking for both of us.”
“Right now, I need a good two-way conversation with you Cowboy, so please speak for yourself.” She replied chuckling.
“Same here! There’s so much to talk about. Where do we start?”, I asked.
“How about that huge display of dominance that erupted from you in the shower!”, Lori offered up, with her eyes widening. Don’t get me wrong, Cowboy, that stuff is a huge fucking turn on for me, and I could tell that Rosita was totally impressed, and seduced, by it. But, holy fuck! I hadn’t realized that you had that much aggression in you! You fucking set it free this morning!”
“Did I frighten or hurt you beyond limits Lori?”, I asked concerned.”
“Hell no, Cowboy! And, don’t be sorry about hurting my ass! We’ve talked about being sorry. I just didn’t know that you had it in you to lay it down like that! I thought that you were fucking awesome. Just like right now!”, she said hugging my arm.
“Actually, I thought that you were being a little over the top with Rosita, and harsh beyond what was called for. That kind of triggered it, and then once the ball started rolling… Well…”
Lori giggled, covering her mouth, and said, “Oops!”
“Oops what?”, I softly demanded.
“Aw fuck! I guess, no secrets between us, huh Cowboy?”
“Spill it.”, I quipped in a flat tone.
“When Rosita and I were in the shower this morning we hatched up that whole scene, sorta as our weird response to the spankings that you gave us. Are you mad with me? Or, Rosita?”
“Actually, I guess it all worked out okay, unless I scared Rosita so badly, that she maybe doesn’t come back.”
“Oh, she’ll be back! Initially, when our little staged scene didn’t go entirely as planned, it freaked us both out. But, after that, she was just as turned on by that display of testosterone as I was, maybe more so. I know that was the steamiest shower that I ever had! I bet it was for Rosita too!”
“So where did you learn that finger up the ass trick?”
“Did you like that okay, Cowboy?”
“Honestly? Not at first! But then when the cum started surging! Wooo!”
“That’s the first time that I tried to make that work. I read about it and all, but actually trying it was way different than I had imagined. If you liked that, we’ll have to outfit you with a set of love beads!”
“Like the hippies wore back in the 1960’s?”
“No Cowboy!”, she giggled. “Hippies wore those around their neck and on their wrists. You shove these up your ass, and then when you pull the string of them out, one by one, they run over your prostate gland as you pull them, creating sort of the same effect as my finger did. You know Cowboy, I just don’t believe that you’re as naive as you put on!”
“I’ve just never dated a woman that wanted to shove beads and fingers up my ass.”, I quipped back at her, chuckling.
“Well, you do now! And, I predict that you’re gonna really like it.”, she shot back, with a smug look.
“How do you know that I don’t already?”
“Cowboy, I’m trying to be good to you. Don’t fuck it up!”
“Sweetheart, I have no intentions of fucking anything up.”
“You’re forgetting that I’m someone that’s experienced your track record!” She giggled really hard, and then taking a deep breath, continued. “So, what do you think about how things went this morning?”
“Before or after Aug left?”
“You’re being a smart ass again! After, Cowboy! And, last night, and yesterday afternoon. You know; us with Rosita? What’d cha think?”
“It was hot. It was amazing. You both were hot, and you both were amazing. I enjoyed the hell out of it! I hope that you and Rosita did. All that being said, I’m looking forward to just me and you in our bed tonight. We can’t live like this every day, because for one thing, it would probably kill us, and for another we have to work at some point to keep the bills paid. And thirdly, and most importantly, I don’t want us to ever get lost in all of this. We have to always have time and space to just be us; me and you. Us!”
“Now you’re speaking for both of us! I agree completely, with all three! Cowboy, I especially agree with what’s most important. Us!”
We arrived at the bus station in Lafayette, not quiet, but approximately, an hour late. Sasha was nowhere to be found. We checked both restrooms, the lounge, and walked the area around the bus station for at least a block around. We were both about at wits end and worrying about what evil may have befallen her.
Although neither of us said it, I know that in the back of both of our minds, we were worried that her absence might involve Sam Milinni. And, we both were probably feeling guilty that we had been engaged in a hot ménage à trois with Rosita, instead of taking care of business, which included being on time to see that no harm came to Sasha.
There was one obvious step to solving her absence though, that we in our panic and guilt had overlooked.
Neither of us had thought to check at the ticket desk, to confirm that her bus had arrived. We were standing in the middle of the parking lot looking lost, when the behemoth of diesel smoke, belching thing, wheeled up next to the station, and off stepped Sasha, with her short bobbed, bleach blonde hair, a small travel case in hand, and cussing like a sailor about her trip. As soon as she had stepped off of the bus, she turned and gave the bus driver a blast of complaints as the other weary looking passengers silent
ly disembarked. We walked up behind her just in time to catch the last blast of her tirade.
“And, when you learn to read fucking detour signs, maybe they’ll let you study for your fucking real bus driving license! You know they don’t sell them at RealMart discount mail order anymore! You actually have to pass a fucking real exam! Are you going to get my fucking luggage out of the belly of this thing, or do I need to call the cops on your stupid, fucking, lazy ass?”
As the last passenger stepped off of the bus, the driver pulled the lever that controls the door closer, and it shut with a sealing noise of finality. Sasha stepped forward and kicked the door three times and started yelling at the driver again.
“Open this door and get my luggage you dumb fucking cock sucker! Do you hear me? You, stupid, son of a bitch!”
I saw a porter in uniform approaching from the bus station with a luggage cart, and stepped forward placing my hands firmly on her shoulders, to get her attention, and meaning to calm her. I didn’t however anticipate that she would think that she was being attacked. That wasn’t very smart of me, but that’s the way it happened. I also wasn’t aware that she had martial arts training. Thankfully, I had the exact same training and beyond, and when she moved against me, my training of exactly how to respond to such a move, kicked in instinctively.
As Sasha moved, my body automatically countered, and positioned for the next move, which if executed, would have created damage.
Fortunately for us all, Lori’s training kicked in also, and by thrusting an arm into the midst of our interlock, and shouting “Halt!”, she disabled, and diffused the whole situation.
When Sasha recognized my face, her whole countenance changed, lighting up her whole face. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she yelled, “Stan!”, and planted her lips over mine, kissing me as though I just had asked her to marry me, and she accepted. Lori looked bemused by the whole thing, until our kiss broke, and Sasha spotted her. Yelling out her name, Sasha then gave Lori the same treatment; deep tongue kiss, hug, and all.
The porter from the station, had unlocked the underbelly door on the bus, and passengers were now busily retrieving their luggage. After their kiss had broken, Lori and Sasha had immediately started chattering to each other, oblivious to the world around them. I placed a hand on Sasha’s arm, (carefully this time) and gently pulled her toward the luggage unload. From the women’s chatter, I learned that the bus driver had missed a detour turn, and became lost. Then drove for miles before finding a place, that he felt, that he could turn the bus around. His incompetence had obviously really raised Sasha’s ire.
On the way back, I made a side stop to RealMart to take Sasha tech shopping. I explained to her what we needed to do, and what equipment we already had. She had brought her own powerful laptop with her and thought that we were fixed for computing power.
We did buy a printer/scanner, a wireless router, and a cell based internet box that Sasha and Lori were both extremely excited about. Of course, I had to purchase the service along with it, and yet another credit card went down. I added in a few thumb drives, blank DVD’s and a couple of micro memory chips. And, I also picked up four more throwaway phones.
At the last minute, Lori thought of ammo. Since I had another nine mil at the house, I picked up another six boxes of forty-fives and six boxes of nines. I almost asked the same rhetorical question that I had before, but remembered Lori’s answer, and also my oath to myself to never again ignore a woman’s intuition.
Upon returning to the truck, we found that the weather had changed and it was now sprinkling rain. We had no room in the truck cab for all of us and Sasha’s luggage too. Three large suitcases and her travel bag, and purse, just wouldn’t fit, even with us all out of the tiny antique cab. I sent the women on to the truck, and went back into the store to buy a box of heavy duty plastic lawn and garden bags, that I could use to encase each of Sasha’s suitcases.
Coming out of the store and crossing the drive lane between the store and parking lot, an old Ford Crown Victoria, apparently a surplus police car, outfitted with a PIT bumper, took a wild swerve at me and barely missed. Diving and rolling into the parking lot, I flipped back upon my feet, and began jogging backwards. I watched the car skid to a stop and then begin burning rubber in reverse as the driver swung the rear of the car towards me.
As the old cruiser careened backwards toward me, I hopped upon the nearest thing to put me on higher ground, which was a shopping cart rack full of carts. Running down the tops of the carts, I just made it to the opposite end, and leapt into the air toward the bed of a large four-wheel drive pickup truck. As I landed in the bed of the truck, the Ford crashed into the carts. The old cruiser stalled, and as the driver restarted the engine, I jumped down from the opposite side of the truck.
Once the engine started, the driver was burning rubber again, this time moving forward and turning to circle around after me. Across the parking lot, a set of blue and white flashing lights suddenly lit up, under the overcast sky. My eyes shifted between the surplus cruiser and the authentic police car that was now speeding across the parking lot with lights flashing. I could hear the roar of both car’s big block, performance engines, and the constant squall from the spinning, smoking, tires of the junker cruiser. I zeroed my eyes on the two occupants of the surplus junk cruiser. I recognized both of them, and they obviously had already recognized me.
With the single occupant police cruiser now screaming across the parking lot, and the surplus cruiser closing ranks on me, I felt like a sitting duck in a disaster movie. I wasn’t going to stand still and wait for disaster. I made an executive decision, and took off running deep into the parking lot as fast as I could, crossing medians and zigzagging between parked cars and trucks. The old surplus cruiser pursued me, and the legit cop, looked to be trying to head off the junker. At the end of the parking rows, I crossed over two rows, and turned lose my foot speed back toward the store. Almost halfway back to the store, the real cop’s car, the surplus cop car with two gangsters, and myself, almost all came into a huge collision.
The real cop slid his patrol car in front of the tire spinning surplus gangster car and was “T” boned for his efforts. The gangster on the passenger side, half climbed from the surplus car and opened fire through the passenger window of the cop’s car, throwing several rounds into the cop at almost point-blank range. I knew that I was next, and that my only help, had just bit the dust.
I pulled the silver plate Colt from beneath my shirt tail, flipping off the safety as I aimed. Then, I dumped three rounds center mass into gangster that had fired on the cop. I will always remember the look on that piece of shit’s face as the hot lead punched his clock. He was known as Red Arbington.
I could see the other piece of shit clearly through the windshield, he was struggling to relieve his pistol from its shoulder holster. I remembered his smart mouth from my work at one of the clubs belonging to Milinni. I waited until he cleared his holster and had the pistol out of the window, then I emptied four fast rounds through the windshield. His arm drooped to the side of the car and the pistol hit the asphalt below.
As I took off running again toward the store, Little Poss screeched to a halt, just in front of me with Sasha at the wheel and Lori riding shotgun. I could see her Colt at the ready, in her hand on her lap.
“One block behind this store, Chubby’s Burgers! Go!”, I shouted at them, and ran on to the store as fast as my cowboy booted feet would carry me. Sasha wheeled Little Poss across the parking lot like normal folks would, and I continued running down the side of RealMart. By now, people were pouring out of the store and I knew that I was on the surveillance cameras, along with Sasha and Lori. If I acted fast, I might have a connection that could cure that. But, I would need to act fast.
When I arrived at the back of RealMart, I scaled the fence and then jogged across a warehouse lot full of eighteen wheelers. Behind that was the back of Chubby’s, where it was only a matter of walking around the fence corner. I was si
tting beneath an umbrellaed table, when Lori and Sasha pulled through the parking lot. I climbed aboard the running board, and stuck my head in the cab only long enough to give them directions.
“Take highway ninety to New Iberia, go to Landeau Building Supplies. Follow the GPS!”. It’s thirty minutes or less. Stay in the speed limits, and don’t stop for anyone, especially cops! If someone gets after us, keep your heads down and keep moving. Hand me half of the ammo! Lori reached into a RealMart bag and handed me three boxes of forty-five hollow points.
Just before I climbed into the truck bed with her luggage, Sasha asked, “You guys are fucking spies, aren’t you?”
I let Lori answer that question, and ducked into the bed up against the tailgate, even though it was the most bouncing, and rough riding, spot in the truck. I stood the least chance of being spotted from there, and could deliver fire power from that vantage point if it became necessary. I found myself hoping that Sasha could shoot at least at a level as her martial arts skills, and also, being very thankful, that she could drive a stick shift.
Even though it took every bit of thirty minutes to get there, Sasha did an exemplary job of just, coolly, tooling Little Poss along until we reached our destination. With the misting rain and aerodynamics of Little Poss, Sasha’s luggage, stacked against the truck cab, was pristine and dry. I on the other hand, laying across, and against, the tail gate, was soaked!
When we arrived at Landeau Building Supplies, I gave Sasha the cash to buy the heavy-duty bags to protect the luggage and climbed into the cab with Lori to wait for her return. Even though it was an eighty degree plus day, being wet and in the wind of the tailgate, I was chilled beyond what I thought possible. When Sasha returned with not only heavy duty large plastic bags, but also a construction jump suit for me to change into, I was totally sold on her worth.
