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Country Cousins
- Thread starter EasyRory
- Start date
Rory,
Your ending to the chapter was certainly a sucker punch to the gut.
You know how to build the Heartache that is the hallmark of every country song.
It was a good chapter - so good it makes us hurt over it.
Your ending to the chapter was certainly a sucker punch to the gut.
You know how to build the Heartache that is the hallmark of every country song.
It was a good chapter - so good it makes us hurt over it.
Terrific writing, Rory. You are totally amazing. I can't wait to read the next chapter. You have covered all angles of human emotion in this story. I am blown away.
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2004
- Posts
- 60,899
- Reaction score
- 114,613
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- 113
Oh, Wow! Vince, the previously supposed "predator" is now finding himself on the other side of that coin? 
The way you're writing him, and what's happening now, just makes my heart go out to him even more!
I'm liking what you're weaving here!
All the more reasons to ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
The way you're writing him, and what's happening now, just makes my heart go out to him even more!
I'm liking what you're weaving here!
All the more reasons to ... No Matter What ...
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
Craiger
JUB Addict
I have to agree with all the above postings. "Goldilocks" is growing and awakening into a caring human being. Something that didn't quite fit when we first met him. I like it and hope that Paul will eventually break his denial and return some of the affection. Thanks, Rory.
Craiger
Craiger
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Ohhhh ... so everybody likes Vince now. But he was fairly ruthless with his buyers in NY and he's not real crazy about Sarah ... Maybe you guys are overestimating his charity.
But he was fairly ruthless with his buyers in NY and he's not real crazy about Sarah ... Maybe you guys are overestimating his charity.
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2004
- Posts
- 60,899
- Reaction score
- 114,613
- Points
- 113
I wouldn't call Vince "charitable", at least not yet, butt I do think he's turned out to be more "considerate" than I first expected him to be.
As for business in NY, I'm impressed he's as sharp/shrewd as he is. That takes a certain degree of intelligence that I didn't suspect him of possessing, either!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
As for business in NY, I'm impressed he's as sharp/shrewd as he is. That takes a certain degree of intelligence that I didn't suspect him of possessing, either!
Keep Smilin'!!
Chaz
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Four - Marlee
Telephones are such a mixed blessing, but you have to take the good calls with the bad. For example, Renee LaGerbille called and … well, that's always trouble when she calls … she began with, “Oh, Marlee ...” The treacle lodged in those two words gave me an instant toothache. “I just had to call and tell you how CUTE your Willis is.”
Well, of course, my first thought was now Willis is diddling Renee!!!! As if that business with Luna wasn't enough. A mother's worries never end, I tell you. But that wasn't it. Thank God. She babbled on about some dates he'd had with Victoria. My relief was only momentary, however. She added ominously, “There is this one little thing … about him … that's just gives me a tickle ...” Instantly my heart was in my mouth. She knows about the FROG!!!! And exactly HOW does she know about the frog??? I barely know about the frog! And I'm his mother! who gave Willis the dickens, by the way, for not wearing pajamas!
Then a wave of relief. “He got Victoria a JOB!!!! With some friends of his ...”
“What friends?”
“Well, Royal Eustis for one … and some girl from New York who is a DOCTOR, for goodness' sake. You know Victoria has never worked a DAY in her life. Even that community service thing the school demanded??? Remember THAT pain in the you-know-where??? She filled it by singing in the choir at church … ONCE! … said all the time she had to practice counted. Anyway, she's helping some carpenter with a wood project! And all because of Willis! Isn't that just a wonderful outcome? You know, considering the other stuff the young people get up to these days ...” She stopped to ponder all the stuff people might possibly get up to. I could almost hear her cringe.
I can't believe I just shared a cringe-moment with Renee! Should I tell her the identity of the carpenter? And probably give her a heart attack! And tell her the carpenter is now diddling her paragon of a Royal Eustis? No, I decided. The call has already gone on WAY too long. Next thing you know Renee will be calling regularly.
“But, my dear, such woeful news from your friend Luna … Disastrous, really.”
“What?” Such a tease. I couldn't hang up. She made me ask.
“You're not going to believe this! Smith rose up off his pallet in the night and shot up the place again! Not just the curtains this time. Luna told the insurance company … we have the same agent, wouldn't you know? … and the agent, that nice Burgess boy, remember him? Anyway, the boy said Smith shot all the finials off the upstairs banisters! Apparently he thought they were … AMOURS of Lunas!!! Can you imagine??? Poor Luna! Heartbreaking the things she has been through. Such a desperate woman. Did you know I heard she and some young man once HAD IT OFF in the parking lot at Oatlands!!!”
I was shocked, of course, but I couldn't let her know it. “Well, Renee, it's always such a delight talking to you ...”
Then before I could go she inserted the knife, “How are the tennis lessons going?”
“... but I really have to dash! I think the kitchen is on fire.” Of course it wasn't. But when you need a calamity, burning kitchens are right up there. Tennis lessons? What does she know?
Of course then I had to call Luna. “You poor sweet thing!!!! The finials???”
From her reaction it was obvious Luna thought Smith's marksmanship was still her and the insurance company's secret. “Marlee, I think I smell smoke! It's coming from the kitchen. I'll call you right back, honey.”
Hah! That call never came, I'll tell you. Still, poor Luna. Renee had that part right. But her message about Victoria was muddled. Was Willis getting serious about her? I climber the stairs thinking, we'll just find out.
“Willis, I've been meaning to ask you … Oh for GOD SAKE put some pajamas on!!!”
“So stop bursting into my room, Mother!” He didn't even hurry to cover himself up.
“At least you're alone! Renee LaGerbille called and from what she said I thought I might find Victoria here.”
“Emma is the one you keep finding in bed with people, not me. And call me Will. Why is that so hard?”
“Just that once, so leave Emma out of this. Perhaps if you had a real companion, you wouldn't need that disgusting frog ...”
“Enough about the frog. What do you want exactly?”
“Are you and Victoria getting serious?”
“We date, we have a good time, that's it.”
“You got her a job?”
“Not really. Vince Martin got her a job.”
“Who's Vince Martin?”
“He works at GBB in Warrenton. I knew him in grade school.”
“That tallish, blond boy?”
“You know him?”
“I think Luna knows him.”
“He's gay, Mother.”
“How ever do you know that, Willis?”
“Everybody knows that. He came out when we all still believed in the Easter Bunny.”
“Well … not everybody.” I left Willis' room and ran for my phone.
“Luna, did you get the fire out?”
“Oh, I think it was just some residue in the oven … Marlee, I'm a little busy right now ...”
“Just a quickie, sweet thing … That delivery man? The blond one from the drug store? He's gay!”
A sharp intake of breath was followed by, “No wonder he was so reluctant to ...” And then poor Luna stopped for spell and a different Luna, a subdued, shattered Luna resumed and faced harsh reality. “Oh, Marlee … my life is such a mess. I don't know what to do about the finials … How ever will I get them repaired? You just can't get wood like that anymore … and even if you could, there's not a decent turner in three states ...”
“I hear there is, Luna. Did you know Victoria LaGerbille is a woodworker? She is working with Mike Pierce this summer.”
Another sharp intake of breath was followed by nothing.
“They have a little workshop over near Harrisonburg. I'll be they could ...”
“I'll call right now. Better yet, I'll go over there.”
Luna hung up a newly motivated woman. She had eight burnin' and four turnin', as a sailor I once knew liked to say when he got all wound up. He said the expression referred to his ship's boilers and propellers which he called screws and I'll tell you that sweet boy knew all about screws.
Telephones are such a mixed blessing, but you have to take the good calls with the bad. For example, Renee LaGerbille called and … well, that's always trouble when she calls … she began with, “Oh, Marlee ...” The treacle lodged in those two words gave me an instant toothache. “I just had to call and tell you how CUTE your Willis is.”
Well, of course, my first thought was now Willis is diddling Renee!!!! As if that business with Luna wasn't enough. A mother's worries never end, I tell you. But that wasn't it. Thank God. She babbled on about some dates he'd had with Victoria. My relief was only momentary, however. She added ominously, “There is this one little thing … about him … that's just gives me a tickle ...” Instantly my heart was in my mouth. She knows about the FROG!!!! And exactly HOW does she know about the frog??? I barely know about the frog! And I'm his mother! who gave Willis the dickens, by the way, for not wearing pajamas!
Then a wave of relief. “He got Victoria a JOB!!!! With some friends of his ...”
“What friends?”
“Well, Royal Eustis for one … and some girl from New York who is a DOCTOR, for goodness' sake. You know Victoria has never worked a DAY in her life. Even that community service thing the school demanded??? Remember THAT pain in the you-know-where??? She filled it by singing in the choir at church … ONCE! … said all the time she had to practice counted. Anyway, she's helping some carpenter with a wood project! And all because of Willis! Isn't that just a wonderful outcome? You know, considering the other stuff the young people get up to these days ...” She stopped to ponder all the stuff people might possibly get up to. I could almost hear her cringe.
I can't believe I just shared a cringe-moment with Renee! Should I tell her the identity of the carpenter? And probably give her a heart attack! And tell her the carpenter is now diddling her paragon of a Royal Eustis? No, I decided. The call has already gone on WAY too long. Next thing you know Renee will be calling regularly.
“But, my dear, such woeful news from your friend Luna … Disastrous, really.”
“What?” Such a tease. I couldn't hang up. She made me ask.
“You're not going to believe this! Smith rose up off his pallet in the night and shot up the place again! Not just the curtains this time. Luna told the insurance company … we have the same agent, wouldn't you know? … and the agent, that nice Burgess boy, remember him? Anyway, the boy said Smith shot all the finials off the upstairs banisters! Apparently he thought they were … AMOURS of Lunas!!! Can you imagine??? Poor Luna! Heartbreaking the things she has been through. Such a desperate woman. Did you know I heard she and some young man once HAD IT OFF in the parking lot at Oatlands!!!”
I was shocked, of course, but I couldn't let her know it. “Well, Renee, it's always such a delight talking to you ...”
Then before I could go she inserted the knife, “How are the tennis lessons going?”
“... but I really have to dash! I think the kitchen is on fire.” Of course it wasn't. But when you need a calamity, burning kitchens are right up there. Tennis lessons? What does she know?
Of course then I had to call Luna. “You poor sweet thing!!!! The finials???”
From her reaction it was obvious Luna thought Smith's marksmanship was still her and the insurance company's secret. “Marlee, I think I smell smoke! It's coming from the kitchen. I'll call you right back, honey.”
Hah! That call never came, I'll tell you. Still, poor Luna. Renee had that part right. But her message about Victoria was muddled. Was Willis getting serious about her? I climber the stairs thinking, we'll just find out.
“Willis, I've been meaning to ask you … Oh for GOD SAKE put some pajamas on!!!”
“So stop bursting into my room, Mother!” He didn't even hurry to cover himself up.
“At least you're alone! Renee LaGerbille called and from what she said I thought I might find Victoria here.”
“Emma is the one you keep finding in bed with people, not me. And call me Will. Why is that so hard?”
“Just that once, so leave Emma out of this. Perhaps if you had a real companion, you wouldn't need that disgusting frog ...”
“Enough about the frog. What do you want exactly?”
“Are you and Victoria getting serious?”
“We date, we have a good time, that's it.”
“You got her a job?”
“Not really. Vince Martin got her a job.”
“Who's Vince Martin?”
“He works at GBB in Warrenton. I knew him in grade school.”
“That tallish, blond boy?”
“You know him?”
“I think Luna knows him.”
“He's gay, Mother.”
“How ever do you know that, Willis?”
“Everybody knows that. He came out when we all still believed in the Easter Bunny.”
“Well … not everybody.” I left Willis' room and ran for my phone.
“Luna, did you get the fire out?”
“Oh, I think it was just some residue in the oven … Marlee, I'm a little busy right now ...”
“Just a quickie, sweet thing … That delivery man? The blond one from the drug store? He's gay!”
A sharp intake of breath was followed by, “No wonder he was so reluctant to ...” And then poor Luna stopped for spell and a different Luna, a subdued, shattered Luna resumed and faced harsh reality. “Oh, Marlee … my life is such a mess. I don't know what to do about the finials … How ever will I get them repaired? You just can't get wood like that anymore … and even if you could, there's not a decent turner in three states ...”
“I hear there is, Luna. Did you know Victoria LaGerbille is a woodworker? She is working with Mike Pierce this summer.”
Another sharp intake of breath was followed by nothing.
“They have a little workshop over near Harrisonburg. I'll be they could ...”
“I'll call right now. Better yet, I'll go over there.”
Luna hung up a newly motivated woman. She had eight burnin' and four turnin', as a sailor I once knew liked to say when he got all wound up. He said the expression referred to his ship's boilers and propellers which he called screws and I'll tell you that sweet boy knew all about screws.
Craiger
JUB Addict
Ooooh! The ladies are at it again. There should be no fear of the Russian hackers spying on anyone....not with these women spinning their gossip....... Fun chapter, Rory.
Craiger
Craiger
Ah, yes, AT&T aw
American Telephone and Tell a Woman - faster than fiber.
So much fun putting the screws to your friends.
American Telephone and Tell a Woman - faster than fiber.
So much fun putting the screws to your friends.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Five - Refo
Now and then I meet people who knew me when I lived in Washington and worked at a large medical research facility. Inevitably they say, “Don't you miss Washington? Your career? The excitement of ...”
No, I don't. I really don't know how anybody can say living in the country is boring. I work at a general hospital in a small town doing everyday kinds of lab work, seeing people who are interesting, and living with a man I love in an old barn that gets nicer every day; and I have more money than I know what to do with. Of course, the secret to that is I don't want to do very much – that costs money, anyway.
Frank isn't boring even considering we have now spent about four years together. He's fascinating and sexy and he loves me. It's hard to ask much more from a man.
I have a dog who alarms some people. They say, “My God! That dog is demented!” And I say, “No, he is a double-merle. He has a genetic mutation that gives him an unusual look; but otherwise he is affectionate and interested in all the usual dog-things in life.” Merle, my dog, is not boring.
Also Sarah Felsen, a bird with a broken wing who lives with us, is not boring. For example, a couple of weeks ago she came home from this workshop she is setting up with a typically charming country tale to tell.
“Refo! You won't believe this!!” And then she went to her room; I've learned to be patient. She returned in a sweat suit, which excited Merle because it usually meant a romp in the field. “Nothing like this EVER happens in the city!” By city she meant her hometown New York. “Vicki LaGerbille brought her boyfriend Will to work.”
“And it wasn't even Bring-Your-Boyfriend-to-Work-Day?” I prodded.
“Shut up and listen!” she said and poured herself a glass, a tumbler really, she liked a big galss of wine, which disappointed Merle because that meant it would be a while before they went out.
“So everything is going well and I'm talking to Will who is a biz major at James Madison and we're talking about the business and financing and stuff when this black Land Rover pulls up and out gets this woman named Luna Smith. How's that for a name? So Will raises his eyebrows and says, 'This is gonna be good.' And I said, Why?' A reasonable enough question.” She took a swig of the wine and almost gagged.
“It's last fall's apple jack. I'm still learning how,” I explained.
“You should mark the bottle,” she wheezed while pouring a new glass of Pinot Grigio. She coughed a little and resumed. “So, to continue … with very few words, some small hand gestures, and a few vivid expressions, he points out the relationships. You wouldn't believe!” She sipped the PG approvingly. “So I said, 'Let's recap: you just told me that Mike, who is Refo's friend Frank's cousin and is now fucking Roy, who is your third cousin, and used to fuck Luna Smith ALSO used to fuck Vicki?”
“Mike and Roy, together, actually,” Will says.
“And Vicki who now is your girl friend got in a fight with Luna Smith over Mike and Roy, and also probably fucked Vince, that would be Luna, not Vicki … Vince who you went to school with and is now fucking my cousin Yakov?”
“I was introduced to him as Paul,” he says.
“ 'Paul … Yakov ...' I say. 'And at this moment … with all that history ... all those relationships … they are all calmly discussing a project about turning some banister finials?' ”
“ 'Business is business,' he says to me with a seriously straight face. I should have kept my mouth shut, but I added, 'While I sleep alone.' And he says, 'That is some boy's terrible mistake, Miss Felsen.' Then he checks out my boobs, looks me right in the eye, and repeats 'A terrible mistake.' ”
She took another swallow of wine and pondered her day. “Miss Felsen! Nobody has ever called me Miss Felsen before. Mizz, now and then, but not often. And it sounded perfectly normal in that soft accent of his. You know, he's kind of cute … if only he weren't so young ...” She laughed at herself, finished the wine, and took Merle out.
Consequently, it wasn't a complete surprise to me when a few days later a young man came into the kitchen one morning, still pulling on his t-shirt, and said, “I bet you're Refo. I'm Will Perry. Thanks for letting me stay last night.” He declined my offer of breakfast or even just coffee and left. Sarah was right; he is kind of cute. About a half hour later 'Miss Felsen' came into the kitchen.
I barely had a chance to smile at her when she said, “Don't say it, Refo! Not a word! I don't need any lectures from you!”
“I wasn't going to give you any,” I replied.
“He's so young!” Sarah despaired. “He's barely twenty-one and I'm thirty-ffff ...”
“I think 'thirty-ffff' is the best time for a woman, Sarah. You certainly look the picture of femininity this morning.” That was absolutely true; she looked fantastic.
“He's so young ...” she repeated.
I punched up my computer and told her, “Google says Demi and Ashton were sixteen years apart.”
“And look what happened to them.” She held out a cup for coffee and I poured. You know what he calls me?” She forced me to ask what. “He calls me Sadie Linda. And he makes it sound beautiful.”
“So that's what the L stands for,” I commented.
“Sadie Linda ...” she whispered to herself and went back to her room with the coffee.
I think that freshly-fucked look is very complimentary on just about everybody I've ever known, and I have to say Sarah looked the best I've ever seen her look at that moment. At the end of the day she came back from the workshop and was totally blown away by the dozen and a half pink tulips Will had sent her.
“Aren't they beautiful, Refo?” She didn't wait for my reply. “He said I remind him of pink tulips.” She put them in a wide mouthed jar and took them to her room.
Another piece to the puzzle fell into place that night at dinner. Roy had returned to school so Mike was eating with us alone. “Will said we should get some permanent financing instead of running the business off two credit cards.”
Sarah smiled and said, “Permanent financing? That's a nice idea; but did he suggest a source?”
“His daddy runs a hedge fund,” Mike said. Sarah's mouth dropped at that news and then recomposed itself when Mike continued, “After you left, he had kind of a noisy break up with his girl friend Vicki. I mean, she was noisy; he just stood and took it. She threw an awl at him. Missed, thank God. That could have really hurt.” Mike shook his head. “What does a dude DO to get his girl that pissed off?”
“Frank, have you tried Refo's apple jack?” Sarah asked, letting Mike's question go unanswered. “Is it usually that cloudy?”
I think Frank was as surprised as I was by Sarah's look. She positively glowed. He smiled back at her and explained that it was usual to strain the apple jack after fermentation and my batch was still young.
“I wouldn't have bottled it yet except it's such a small batch,” I said. “Maybe we'll get a bigger apple crop this year. The trees held their blossoms and are looking fine.”
Growing apple trees and making apple jack is a process I find just as engrossing and interesting as the molecular biology I used to be so into. As I keep telling people, country living isn't boring at all.
Now and then I meet people who knew me when I lived in Washington and worked at a large medical research facility. Inevitably they say, “Don't you miss Washington? Your career? The excitement of ...”
No, I don't. I really don't know how anybody can say living in the country is boring. I work at a general hospital in a small town doing everyday kinds of lab work, seeing people who are interesting, and living with a man I love in an old barn that gets nicer every day; and I have more money than I know what to do with. Of course, the secret to that is I don't want to do very much – that costs money, anyway.
Frank isn't boring even considering we have now spent about four years together. He's fascinating and sexy and he loves me. It's hard to ask much more from a man.
I have a dog who alarms some people. They say, “My God! That dog is demented!” And I say, “No, he is a double-merle. He has a genetic mutation that gives him an unusual look; but otherwise he is affectionate and interested in all the usual dog-things in life.” Merle, my dog, is not boring.
Also Sarah Felsen, a bird with a broken wing who lives with us, is not boring. For example, a couple of weeks ago she came home from this workshop she is setting up with a typically charming country tale to tell.
“Refo! You won't believe this!!” And then she went to her room; I've learned to be patient. She returned in a sweat suit, which excited Merle because it usually meant a romp in the field. “Nothing like this EVER happens in the city!” By city she meant her hometown New York. “Vicki LaGerbille brought her boyfriend Will to work.”
“And it wasn't even Bring-Your-Boyfriend-to-Work-Day?” I prodded.
“Shut up and listen!” she said and poured herself a glass, a tumbler really, she liked a big galss of wine, which disappointed Merle because that meant it would be a while before they went out.
“So everything is going well and I'm talking to Will who is a biz major at James Madison and we're talking about the business and financing and stuff when this black Land Rover pulls up and out gets this woman named Luna Smith. How's that for a name? So Will raises his eyebrows and says, 'This is gonna be good.' And I said, Why?' A reasonable enough question.” She took a swig of the wine and almost gagged.
“It's last fall's apple jack. I'm still learning how,” I explained.
“You should mark the bottle,” she wheezed while pouring a new glass of Pinot Grigio. She coughed a little and resumed. “So, to continue … with very few words, some small hand gestures, and a few vivid expressions, he points out the relationships. You wouldn't believe!” She sipped the PG approvingly. “So I said, 'Let's recap: you just told me that Mike, who is Refo's friend Frank's cousin and is now fucking Roy, who is your third cousin, and used to fuck Luna Smith ALSO used to fuck Vicki?”
“Mike and Roy, together, actually,” Will says.
“And Vicki who now is your girl friend got in a fight with Luna Smith over Mike and Roy, and also probably fucked Vince, that would be Luna, not Vicki … Vince who you went to school with and is now fucking my cousin Yakov?”
“I was introduced to him as Paul,” he says.
“ 'Paul … Yakov ...' I say. 'And at this moment … with all that history ... all those relationships … they are all calmly discussing a project about turning some banister finials?' ”
“ 'Business is business,' he says to me with a seriously straight face. I should have kept my mouth shut, but I added, 'While I sleep alone.' And he says, 'That is some boy's terrible mistake, Miss Felsen.' Then he checks out my boobs, looks me right in the eye, and repeats 'A terrible mistake.' ”
She took another swallow of wine and pondered her day. “Miss Felsen! Nobody has ever called me Miss Felsen before. Mizz, now and then, but not often. And it sounded perfectly normal in that soft accent of his. You know, he's kind of cute … if only he weren't so young ...” She laughed at herself, finished the wine, and took Merle out.
Consequently, it wasn't a complete surprise to me when a few days later a young man came into the kitchen one morning, still pulling on his t-shirt, and said, “I bet you're Refo. I'm Will Perry. Thanks for letting me stay last night.” He declined my offer of breakfast or even just coffee and left. Sarah was right; he is kind of cute. About a half hour later 'Miss Felsen' came into the kitchen.
I barely had a chance to smile at her when she said, “Don't say it, Refo! Not a word! I don't need any lectures from you!”
“I wasn't going to give you any,” I replied.
“He's so young!” Sarah despaired. “He's barely twenty-one and I'm thirty-ffff ...”
“I think 'thirty-ffff' is the best time for a woman, Sarah. You certainly look the picture of femininity this morning.” That was absolutely true; she looked fantastic.
“He's so young ...” she repeated.
I punched up my computer and told her, “Google says Demi and Ashton were sixteen years apart.”
“And look what happened to them.” She held out a cup for coffee and I poured. You know what he calls me?” She forced me to ask what. “He calls me Sadie Linda. And he makes it sound beautiful.”
“So that's what the L stands for,” I commented.
“Sadie Linda ...” she whispered to herself and went back to her room with the coffee.
I think that freshly-fucked look is very complimentary on just about everybody I've ever known, and I have to say Sarah looked the best I've ever seen her look at that moment. At the end of the day she came back from the workshop and was totally blown away by the dozen and a half pink tulips Will had sent her.
“Aren't they beautiful, Refo?” She didn't wait for my reply. “He said I remind him of pink tulips.” She put them in a wide mouthed jar and took them to her room.
Another piece to the puzzle fell into place that night at dinner. Roy had returned to school so Mike was eating with us alone. “Will said we should get some permanent financing instead of running the business off two credit cards.”
Sarah smiled and said, “Permanent financing? That's a nice idea; but did he suggest a source?”
“His daddy runs a hedge fund,” Mike said. Sarah's mouth dropped at that news and then recomposed itself when Mike continued, “After you left, he had kind of a noisy break up with his girl friend Vicki. I mean, she was noisy; he just stood and took it. She threw an awl at him. Missed, thank God. That could have really hurt.” Mike shook his head. “What does a dude DO to get his girl that pissed off?”
“Frank, have you tried Refo's apple jack?” Sarah asked, letting Mike's question go unanswered. “Is it usually that cloudy?”
I think Frank was as surprised as I was by Sarah's look. She positively glowed. He smiled back at her and explained that it was usual to strain the apple jack after fermentation and my batch was still young.
“I wouldn't have bottled it yet except it's such a small batch,” I said. “Maybe we'll get a bigger apple crop this year. The trees held their blossoms and are looking fine.”
Growing apple trees and making apple jack is a process I find just as engrossing and interesting as the molecular biology I used to be so into. As I keep telling people, country living isn't boring at all.
Craiger
JUB Addict
Boy, Sarah must have something special, seducing Will like that. Of course she is "that older woman" that seems to charm young 21 year olds. And that good ole Southern charm Will puts out. It would be interesting to put Vicki up against Sarah in a sexuality poll. Neither can seem to keep their legs closed...... Good old thirty-ffff Sarah.
Craiger
Craiger
Rory,
Damn, you gotta love the country. A great recap of where everyone is at.
Now, is my Spidey sense tingling and telling me you just recapped our tale because we're drawing to a close?
Damn, you gotta love the country. A great recap of where everyone is at.
Now, is my Spidey sense tingling and telling me you just recapped our tale because we're drawing to a close?
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Your spidey sense is whacked. 
Much lies ahead.
Much lies ahead.
Oh, good. I'm glad I'm wrong. The tails to tell (about) that Lay (and give) head.
EasyRory
JUB Addict
Chapter Thirty-Six - Paul, or maybe Yakov
I think this Paul/Yakov thing is giving me a split personality. I never should have agreed to Sadie's scheme. I should have stayed home in Brooklyn and not gotten myself involved with this Virginia scene. Schemes and scenes – I just can't keep them straight … or gay either.
Last week, for example, Vicki, after her hair-pulling scene with Will, practically dragged me by the nuts out behind the chicken coop and fucked me. Seeing chickens at close range is disorienting enough, and then to have this dominatrix without whip riding me like a warm-blooded broomstick! She ends the session with, “It's nice to have a real man, for a change.”
And that's what I thought about Vince, except he's acting all weird and not fucking me – I'm lucky to get a blow job now and then - over something that I'm probably responsible for but I don't know what. What? Nobody tells me anything; I'm supposed to figure it all out myself. From clues or something. “It's subtle,” Sadie says. And in the midst of all this tumult and carnage, the main object of discussion is whether hickory can be turned satisfactorily with the tools we have on hand. The big debate is should we look for new tools or old used ones! Finials are more important than feelings!
And I feel like shit. Vince won't fuck me at all; he says fucking is too emotionally involving for our casual relationship and Vicki wants to fuck me again, except she was a lousy lay the first time and I don't see any prospects for improvement in that department. Plus I can't believe I'm turning down a girl. She's not bad looking at all and physiologically I respond to her; I mean, a bad lay is still pretty good, right? But, and this part sounds so … creepy, she makes me feel used and used badly, like I'm her vengeance on Will, who has totally moved on. Why is my life turning into a Dr. Phil show?
I used to be semi-unsuccessful at everything but happy about it. Life was predictable even if missing very much human contact. Now I've got contacts and complications everywhere I look and I should be reveling in the most sex than I've ever had, but people are giving me trouble over everything. I want to like the gay sex I'm having with Vince, but now I'm not having so much and I miss it and I'm still a little repulsed by it, some of it, anyway – like the kissing part. Then I still want to enjoy the sex I had and could be having with Vicki, but she's a bitch and I was glad just to come and get it over with.
So it's probably good that I'm making this run up to New York alone. Vince said he had to work at the drug store, which was bull shit, but I didn't know what to say about it. So a couple of nights alone will be good. Just like old times. An hour away from Warrenton and already the world seemed a brighter place. The Washington Beltway drivers' fuck-you approach to road manners was a nice preview of what lay ahead in New York. I fit right in driving an old, battered step van; the Benz drivers looked terrified at the sight of me in their rear view mirrors coming at them doing seventy. Just because I could, I passed cars in the Baltimore tunnel.
Then I got to the White Marsh exit and the memory flooded back. We had stopped under a bridge to avoid the rain and Vince gave me a blow job. All that pretty blond hair bobbing up and down. I relived that experience all the way to the Glassboro exit in Jersey. There, however, deep breaths didn't help. I stopped the van where we had stopped and let the feelings of my first fuck wash over me again. Yes, it hurt. Yes, I tried to avoid the penetration – kind of. But when it was over, I felt like … I don't know what – in a very good way. I got out of the van and walked around it pretending to look for a flat tire or something in case the cops came by. I called his name out loud and hated myself for doing it. I could feel his dick in my ass. Like it belonged there. No! I tried to conjure up a vision of Vicki, but all I managed was the sight of a sinewy naked witch riding me. I wanted a cigarette. Quitting had been so hard; I never wanted to go through that again, but I needed something.
I pulled into the next rest stop for gas and was tempted to buy a pack of Marlboros, but Ouch! They cost nine dollars a pack. I passed on that and went to take a piss. I stepped up to a long row of urinals and began my business. A random glance at the guy about six feet away made me stare. He was uncut, just like Vince. His size and shape were remarkably the same. I stared too long and got a fierce glare in return. I exited hastily, dribbling piss in my pants. Nothing like walking around with piss tracks all down your front. One of life's embarrassments. I can still hear my mother telling her little kid, “Don't be in such a rush! Make sure you're all done before you close up.”
So I made it across the Verrazano and into Brooklyn. Traffic for the Belt was lined up halfway across the Bridge so I took the 278, which had it's own problems. I got off at Fort Hamilton and took 86th to Gravesend. It was slow but sure.
My apartment looked oddly foreign and neglected to me, not to mention crappy. The unmade bed reminded me of the last time I was in it with Vince. I took off only my shoes and flopped down. It had been two weeks since that last time. How could the pillow still smell of him? He used some kind of conditioner that kept the tangles out of his hair. That must be it. Suddenly I felt lonely in my own home.
After a nap and a bite at the closest deli, I checked the van and went back home. It was mid-summer hot and stuffy in the building even though it was still early June. I went up on the roof for a breather. Memories. I stood at the parapet and remembered an earlier night when it was still quite cool. Vince snuggled against me for warmth and before I knew it his hands, comfortably wrapped around my waist, were unfastening my pants. We were alone; it was almost dark; I didn't object when he bent me over the wall and fucked me. He jacked my cock and we came together. I could still see drips on the bricks that were probably from me. I thought the rain would have washed the evidence away by now.
In the middle of this little reverie, I leaned over the edge and glanced around the court of the building. I looked at a woman sitting at a table, sipping coffee or something and reading a book. Our eyes locked and I saw a flare of recognition in her eyes. She began mouthing something to another person and gesticulating wildly at me. Perhaps Vince and I had not been unobserved after all. I backed away from the wall, returned to my apartment and had a beer, then another. I went to bed still restless and masturbated. What had been the commonest event in my love life had become such a pain in the ass, it was work to do and the pleasure was barely pleasurable. It let me sleep, though.
The next day I went into the City and delivered the dildos and chairs. Lenny said the chairs were better sellers than he had expected. I noticed he was pricing them higher, but still nowhere near what Sadie had planned. I considered going back to Brooklyn and heading south the next day, but what was there in my apartment but another beer and another jerk off? I headed through the Holland Tunnel and a half-hour later was southbound on the Jersey Turnpike.
It was late, almost ten when I got back to Warrenton. Vince was there. I'm not sure what I expected when I asked him, “Can we go to bed together?”
“What do you have in mind?” he answered.
“Mutual pleasure?” I proposed.
“So you can look at my hair and pretend I'm Brittany Spears?” he asked. How I regretted telling him about that fantasy.
“No. So I can look at you … and me.”
“Ok,” he said without much enthusiasm. “I'll be right there.”
He went into the bathroom, which was really encouraging, because he always did that before we fucked, getting himself cleaned up and stuff, I guess. I don't really know what his preps were, but he usually went into the bathroom first. I stripped and hopped in bed, leaving the light on his side of the bed on. It always put such a nice shine on his hair.
“Tah-dah!” he announced.
“Vince! My God! What happened?”
“I want you to know exactly who's sucking your cock ... Me ... Vince Martin.”
“You cut off all your hair?”
“If we have sex, I don't want any doubt about who's doing it. Ok?” He pulled the sheet aside and spread my legs. “I'm suckin' your dick, right?”
“Yeah … Of course ...” He began and I felt his head, stubbly and bristly, almost like a scruffy face. I closed my eyes and he was as good as ever. When it was over he lay beside me. I thought about what I could do for him. I started with what was suddenly obvious.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“A kiss. What you said. A thank you for the blow job.”
“Yeah?” I saw the hint of a smile.
“Yeah.” I kissed him again. It wasn't bad at all and then I moved on to suckin' him. He got nicely aroused and was moaning now and then when I went deep, but I knew I wasn't an ace at cocksucking. I paused and rubbed my hand on his head feeling the irregular patches of bristle. “Want to fuck me?”
“You don't want Brittany or maybe Vicki with a strap-on?”
Again, regrets. I never should have told him about Vicki, but it seemed like everybody knew everything about everybody else in this county. He would have found out or figured it out anyway.
“I want you, Vincennes Indiana Martin.” For the next thirty minutes I kissed him a lot and it seemed to go perfectly with the rest of what we were doing. It really was a great welcome home for both of us. Consequently I was very disappointed at my behavior the next day.
You were wondering about my split personality? So here goes. The very next day, after that awesome night with Vince, I fucked Vicki at work. I could make excuses about it. She lured me. She seduced me. And kind of, she did. Touching my cock happened so accidentally, while we were measuring a hickory branch. She apologized, but never took her hand away. She kept apologizing, and squeezing, and looking at me … and her look wasn't sinewy-witch at all. And I responded. A little reluctantly at first, but a fuck is a fuck, right? I felt like shit the instant I saw Vince.
I thought he'd be pissed, but he laughed. “She isn't my competition,” he said. “My competition is all in here, Pavel.” He used my original Russian name, which sounded very sexy the way he said it, and he tapped my forehead.
I had no idea what he was talking about and sex always makes me a little confused anyway. I was very confused that night.
I think this Paul/Yakov thing is giving me a split personality. I never should have agreed to Sadie's scheme. I should have stayed home in Brooklyn and not gotten myself involved with this Virginia scene. Schemes and scenes – I just can't keep them straight … or gay either.
Last week, for example, Vicki, after her hair-pulling scene with Will, practically dragged me by the nuts out behind the chicken coop and fucked me. Seeing chickens at close range is disorienting enough, and then to have this dominatrix without whip riding me like a warm-blooded broomstick! She ends the session with, “It's nice to have a real man, for a change.”
And that's what I thought about Vince, except he's acting all weird and not fucking me – I'm lucky to get a blow job now and then - over something that I'm probably responsible for but I don't know what. What? Nobody tells me anything; I'm supposed to figure it all out myself. From clues or something. “It's subtle,” Sadie says. And in the midst of all this tumult and carnage, the main object of discussion is whether hickory can be turned satisfactorily with the tools we have on hand. The big debate is should we look for new tools or old used ones! Finials are more important than feelings!
And I feel like shit. Vince won't fuck me at all; he says fucking is too emotionally involving for our casual relationship and Vicki wants to fuck me again, except she was a lousy lay the first time and I don't see any prospects for improvement in that department. Plus I can't believe I'm turning down a girl. She's not bad looking at all and physiologically I respond to her; I mean, a bad lay is still pretty good, right? But, and this part sounds so … creepy, she makes me feel used and used badly, like I'm her vengeance on Will, who has totally moved on. Why is my life turning into a Dr. Phil show?
I used to be semi-unsuccessful at everything but happy about it. Life was predictable even if missing very much human contact. Now I've got contacts and complications everywhere I look and I should be reveling in the most sex than I've ever had, but people are giving me trouble over everything. I want to like the gay sex I'm having with Vince, but now I'm not having so much and I miss it and I'm still a little repulsed by it, some of it, anyway – like the kissing part. Then I still want to enjoy the sex I had and could be having with Vicki, but she's a bitch and I was glad just to come and get it over with.
So it's probably good that I'm making this run up to New York alone. Vince said he had to work at the drug store, which was bull shit, but I didn't know what to say about it. So a couple of nights alone will be good. Just like old times. An hour away from Warrenton and already the world seemed a brighter place. The Washington Beltway drivers' fuck-you approach to road manners was a nice preview of what lay ahead in New York. I fit right in driving an old, battered step van; the Benz drivers looked terrified at the sight of me in their rear view mirrors coming at them doing seventy. Just because I could, I passed cars in the Baltimore tunnel.
Then I got to the White Marsh exit and the memory flooded back. We had stopped under a bridge to avoid the rain and Vince gave me a blow job. All that pretty blond hair bobbing up and down. I relived that experience all the way to the Glassboro exit in Jersey. There, however, deep breaths didn't help. I stopped the van where we had stopped and let the feelings of my first fuck wash over me again. Yes, it hurt. Yes, I tried to avoid the penetration – kind of. But when it was over, I felt like … I don't know what – in a very good way. I got out of the van and walked around it pretending to look for a flat tire or something in case the cops came by. I called his name out loud and hated myself for doing it. I could feel his dick in my ass. Like it belonged there. No! I tried to conjure up a vision of Vicki, but all I managed was the sight of a sinewy naked witch riding me. I wanted a cigarette. Quitting had been so hard; I never wanted to go through that again, but I needed something.
I pulled into the next rest stop for gas and was tempted to buy a pack of Marlboros, but Ouch! They cost nine dollars a pack. I passed on that and went to take a piss. I stepped up to a long row of urinals and began my business. A random glance at the guy about six feet away made me stare. He was uncut, just like Vince. His size and shape were remarkably the same. I stared too long and got a fierce glare in return. I exited hastily, dribbling piss in my pants. Nothing like walking around with piss tracks all down your front. One of life's embarrassments. I can still hear my mother telling her little kid, “Don't be in such a rush! Make sure you're all done before you close up.”
So I made it across the Verrazano and into Brooklyn. Traffic for the Belt was lined up halfway across the Bridge so I took the 278, which had it's own problems. I got off at Fort Hamilton and took 86th to Gravesend. It was slow but sure.
My apartment looked oddly foreign and neglected to me, not to mention crappy. The unmade bed reminded me of the last time I was in it with Vince. I took off only my shoes and flopped down. It had been two weeks since that last time. How could the pillow still smell of him? He used some kind of conditioner that kept the tangles out of his hair. That must be it. Suddenly I felt lonely in my own home.
After a nap and a bite at the closest deli, I checked the van and went back home. It was mid-summer hot and stuffy in the building even though it was still early June. I went up on the roof for a breather. Memories. I stood at the parapet and remembered an earlier night when it was still quite cool. Vince snuggled against me for warmth and before I knew it his hands, comfortably wrapped around my waist, were unfastening my pants. We were alone; it was almost dark; I didn't object when he bent me over the wall and fucked me. He jacked my cock and we came together. I could still see drips on the bricks that were probably from me. I thought the rain would have washed the evidence away by now.
In the middle of this little reverie, I leaned over the edge and glanced around the court of the building. I looked at a woman sitting at a table, sipping coffee or something and reading a book. Our eyes locked and I saw a flare of recognition in her eyes. She began mouthing something to another person and gesticulating wildly at me. Perhaps Vince and I had not been unobserved after all. I backed away from the wall, returned to my apartment and had a beer, then another. I went to bed still restless and masturbated. What had been the commonest event in my love life had become such a pain in the ass, it was work to do and the pleasure was barely pleasurable. It let me sleep, though.
The next day I went into the City and delivered the dildos and chairs. Lenny said the chairs were better sellers than he had expected. I noticed he was pricing them higher, but still nowhere near what Sadie had planned. I considered going back to Brooklyn and heading south the next day, but what was there in my apartment but another beer and another jerk off? I headed through the Holland Tunnel and a half-hour later was southbound on the Jersey Turnpike.
It was late, almost ten when I got back to Warrenton. Vince was there. I'm not sure what I expected when I asked him, “Can we go to bed together?”
“What do you have in mind?” he answered.
“Mutual pleasure?” I proposed.
“So you can look at my hair and pretend I'm Brittany Spears?” he asked. How I regretted telling him about that fantasy.
“No. So I can look at you … and me.”
“Ok,” he said without much enthusiasm. “I'll be right there.”
He went into the bathroom, which was really encouraging, because he always did that before we fucked, getting himself cleaned up and stuff, I guess. I don't really know what his preps were, but he usually went into the bathroom first. I stripped and hopped in bed, leaving the light on his side of the bed on. It always put such a nice shine on his hair.
“Tah-dah!” he announced.
“Vince! My God! What happened?”
“I want you to know exactly who's sucking your cock ... Me ... Vince Martin.”
“You cut off all your hair?”
“If we have sex, I don't want any doubt about who's doing it. Ok?” He pulled the sheet aside and spread my legs. “I'm suckin' your dick, right?”
“Yeah … Of course ...” He began and I felt his head, stubbly and bristly, almost like a scruffy face. I closed my eyes and he was as good as ever. When it was over he lay beside me. I thought about what I could do for him. I started with what was suddenly obvious.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“A kiss. What you said. A thank you for the blow job.”
“Yeah?” I saw the hint of a smile.
“Yeah.” I kissed him again. It wasn't bad at all and then I moved on to suckin' him. He got nicely aroused and was moaning now and then when I went deep, but I knew I wasn't an ace at cocksucking. I paused and rubbed my hand on his head feeling the irregular patches of bristle. “Want to fuck me?”
“You don't want Brittany or maybe Vicki with a strap-on?”
Again, regrets. I never should have told him about Vicki, but it seemed like everybody knew everything about everybody else in this county. He would have found out or figured it out anyway.
“I want you, Vincennes Indiana Martin.” For the next thirty minutes I kissed him a lot and it seemed to go perfectly with the rest of what we were doing. It really was a great welcome home for both of us. Consequently I was very disappointed at my behavior the next day.
You were wondering about my split personality? So here goes. The very next day, after that awesome night with Vince, I fucked Vicki at work. I could make excuses about it. She lured me. She seduced me. And kind of, she did. Touching my cock happened so accidentally, while we were measuring a hickory branch. She apologized, but never took her hand away. She kept apologizing, and squeezing, and looking at me … and her look wasn't sinewy-witch at all. And I responded. A little reluctantly at first, but a fuck is a fuck, right? I felt like shit the instant I saw Vince.
I thought he'd be pissed, but he laughed. “She isn't my competition,” he said. “My competition is all in here, Pavel.” He used my original Russian name, which sounded very sexy the way he said it, and he tapped my forehead.
I had no idea what he was talking about and sex always makes me a little confused anyway. I was very confused that night.