Montana Jones

Montana n: A state of the northwest United States bordering on Canada. Admitted as the 41st state in 1889. The fourth largest state in the union, it includes vast prairies and numerous majestic mountain ranges.
Syn: Treasure State, Big Sky Country, Last Best Place.

Jones n: slang. An addiction or very deep craving.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

A chance encounter

R__ had called in the afternoon looking for a friendly voice. We talked up the problems of moving and settling into new places. "It's easier for guys. We women have all these safety issues and gender issues. You guys can just go to the local sports bar and watch a basketball game and chances are you will start chatting up someone who is there, decide if they are someone to make friends with." I don't pay much attention to sports but I couldn't disagree.

I sometimes play a head game with myself. Where is the next lay coming from? Is it someone I know? Someone new? What are the odds I will meet her today?

I wanted to get out. I needed to get out. Working from home and not getting out makes a dull boy. A burger sounded good. And a beer to go with it. Someone had told me a place where I could find such things. Worth a look.

"It's a new mattress" I told her "Less than two weeks old."
"Then we should be on it."
She turned the lights off before stripping off her pants and shirt.

I had been a bartender in a past life. A past address. I already knew everyone in the bar. Not their names, but who they were. I could scan the dozen people and see who was lonely for company. Who was lonely for drink. Who was making their social rounds. Who was the tough guy. Who was the floozie. I had met these people a hundred times before. I quit a good paying job once because I didn't want to spend any more time with them.

Every girl is a little different. Some are timid, some are screamers, some are creative. This one turned off the lights and hid her body under the sheets before grabbing me with surprising strength and forcing me to her. "Get over here" she growled. "Get on me."

The burger was standard bar fare. Nothing to write home about. The beer was better. Good to know that some local watering holes put quality beer on tap. I nursed at the second glass. No reason to stay here. No reason to leave. I toyed with the idea of ordering a shot, quashing what was left of the alcohol and looking for my entertainment back home.

It's not ok to be indecisive. It is okay to break the mood in order to get the condoms. You are supposed to chat about past history a little. There is supposed to be a little foreplay. When she sinks fingernails into my back and holds me skin to skin with a viselike grip of the legs all I can do is fuck.

The girl sat next to me but did not look over. Dropping smokes, a lighter, keys on the bar top. "Mind if I smoke?" "Suit yourself." I'm not sure what the icebreaker was. Pretty soon we were talking and swapping jokes. I ordered another round. I found a reason to stay. I tried to think of another joke.

"Come here" she commanded in a throaty whisper. "Fuck me. I want it. Fuck me. You want it. Fuck me." And she would buck and thrash and pull her legs to my shoulders and claw my back and bite my neck.

"A crocodile goes into a bar, bartender say 'we don't serve crocs.' The crocodile says 'gimmie a beer or I will eat one of your customers.' Bartender still refuses. The croc goes to the end of the bar, mauls the girl sitting there, tears her limb from limb and chows her down. He goes back to the bartender and says 'now give me a beer or I am doing it again.' The bartender says 'I am still not serving you and you can't do it again anyway. You are about to go to sleep.' Croc says 'what do you mean?' Bartender says 'that was the bar-bitch-you-ate.'"

We flipped and turned our skin smacked together and she would grip me and scratch at me. There was biting and slapping and some hair pulling. "I'm fucking a crazy Montanan" I muttered.
"That's not nice" she said.
"Wild crazy sexy Montanan."
"That's better"

I'm pretty sure she was flirting with me more than I was flirting with her. The way she was leaning in to me. Touching me. She was also drunk and getting more so. I beat her at foosball and then beat her at pool. "I guess I am pretty drunk." She would say.
"Yeah you are. I suck at pool."
"Do you want to go out with me?"
"Right now?"
"Let's finish this game."

Hardons don't last. They used to when I was younger. It can be frustrating to have the naked girl in bed without the equipment to keep going. "It doesn't matter" she said. "It doesn't always have to be hard" as she ground her pelvis into me. "You have a nice cock. A sweet cock."

"Here is what I think." I said. "I think I could seduce the pants off you right now. But I'm not sure if I want to. There could be a hella cool one night stand tonight. If we were lucky we could stretch it to a week or two. It would be intense and fun and then burn out quickly. On the other hand I could make a friend of you first and then things have a chance of lasting."
"What do you want?" She said.
"I'm not sure."
"What do you want? Just say it. It is the same thing I want. The same thing everyone wants. You know what I mean. You can have it. Just say it."

We lay in the bead sweaty and breathing hard from the effort. "I don't usually do this." She said. "Actually I never do this. But you are so sweet."
"You have never picked up a random guy at the bar and taken him to bed."
"Never. I haven't even had any in a long time. The guys around here don't impress me. But you are sweet."
"I'm honored."

In the morning the shower stung my skin in places. The steam both cleared my head and clouded my memory. What the hell happened last night? My body had a few tender spots. No visible bruises. I guess some of the blood on the sheets could have been mine.

Comments:
Thanks for the racy bedtime story *wink*
 
Interesting.

I'm intrigued.
 
congrats on the good fortune.
 
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