Duc and Cover

It had been two hours since the last time Big Mike opened his eyes; rolling over he re-discovered the spilled beer and cold, wet mattress that shocked him into full wakefulness. Sitting up and looking about the place, he saw Skeeter's pretty hair was everywhere, but Skeeter was gone. Soon enough he began to remember the events of last night: and his discovery this morning that he had been rolled by his wife. Skeeter had taken his money, his truck, and the food stamp card, which had almost a hundred bucks on it.

Anger began to build within him, but Big Mike didn't have the booze working against him today, and he was able to force himself to think about other things until he calmed a bit. Running his hand through his head of untamed red hair, he stepped out of the trailer and walked barefoot, his boots in his hand, across the backyard to his dad's house to use the phone, not wanting to use the last few minutes he had left on his cell. When he found that bitch, she was going to pay for this.

Even as he thought the thought he knew he was lying to himself. He couldn't hurt Skeeter, every time he tried it, he hurt himself more then he hurt her. He loved her too much, and he knew he would never be lucky enough to find another Skeeter. While Big Mike would never win any scholarships, he was not stupid. He was wise enough to know, he wasn't very smart. Knowing this allowed him to learn how to take things slow, so his mind could keep up. And he divided everything into three groups, things he knew, things he thought he knew and the things he knew he didn't know. At the very top of the list of the things he knew, was that he needed Skeeter. He had to get her back.

Nobody was home at his dad's house, which was a relief; he had hoped they would have left for work by now. There was coffee, he poured a cup and sat down.

He picked up a pencil and started to make a list, his writing shaky and unsure, looking like something a second grader might do. He made a list of the people she could run to, he then went back down the list putting a check beside each name that Skeeter had fucked over lately, that shortened the list considerably.

Big Mike stared at the list of names, there were a lot of things that Big Mike couldn't do but there were a lot of things he could do very fucking well. One of those things was hunt and another was trap, when it came to understanding the swamps and woodlands that surrounded him, few could match him. Skeeter was like a lion in the desert, all he had to do to find her was watch the water holes.

Big Mike tore up the first list and made another one of everybody she got drugs from, and like on the first list he checked off the names of people she had fucked over lately. He had three names left, he picked up the phone, Reek's was the first number he called. The phone rang twice before it was picked up. "Yeah?" a bored voice asked.

Big Mike hated to call around hunting for Skeeter. It made him feel ashamed to show how little control he held over her. A husband shouldn't have to be hunting his wife all the time, but he had to find her. "Hey, Reek, have you seen Skeeter today?"

Reek knew who it was when he heard the 'Andy Devine' tone of voice, like he was trying to talk and take a hard shit at the same time, giving Big Mike's voice a high pitched, straining quality. Reek put him on speaker and motioned to his two friends to listen.

"Yeah, you calling about the truck, ain't you cracker? Your wife done come and gone several times last night, she left your truck on the last trip for four hundred worth of rock"

Big Mike thought for a long moment, the silence hanging heavy like a wet veil, as Big Mike wondered if his Skeeter would sell his truck. Would she do that to him? He remembered the pile of red hair on the bed when he got up, he thought that maybe he remembered cutting it with his knife; if he had done that to her, she might've done this to him.

Reek's voice on the phone interrupted his thoughts as he asked, "You still there white boy?"

"Yeah I'm here," Big Mike mumbled and then he had a thought. "She can't sell my truck, it's my truck, in my name not hers." Then Mike put it together, Reek was trying to fuck him. "Why would you buy a truck that wasn't hers to sell? You're smarter than that ain't you?"

Reek had all he could do not to laugh as he said. "I didn't buy the truck, I just loaned some money on it until you could pay me back. After the way you had treated her I thought that somebody should help her out and you know how helpful I can be."

Mike knew what he had to do, but he didn't know what to say. After a moment he asked "So, you're telling me that I owe you four hundred dollars, and you have my truck?" Then Mike had a smart thought, he could make Reek think everything was okay and maybe he wouldn't be looking when Mike got to his house. Big Mike's face was split by a smile; it was not often that he felt that he was smarter than the person he was talking to, but he enjoyed that feeling today when he asked, "I owe you any interest?"

Reek did laugh out loud now as he said, "No man, she paid the interest up front with a fine ass blow job." Reek's friends joined in the laughter when he told Big Mike, "She gonna owe me another one in two hours and another after that for every six hours I keep this truck. So if you don't want your old lady getting spoiled by all this black cock over here you better come give me my money and get your truck." Reek hung up.

Reek would've choked on his laughter if he could have felt the heat and strength of hate and bloodlust that washed through Big Mike's soul at the thought of his sweet Skeeter on her knees before a nigger, sucking on his cock. Mike slammed the phone down so hard that the lid came off the battery compartment and the batteries were thrown across the room, one of them rolling down the hall. He sank into a chair and held his head in his hands. A low pitiful moan came from his mouth as he held his head in his hands, a sound more mournful than anything found in the wild, because only man can love that deep.

Big Mike let himself remember what life had been like before Skeeter, how empty and lonely his life had been. He knew he was just a big dumb redneck, he knew that everyone said that he was retarded, and too dumb to learn. But Skeeter had read books to him and helped him to be smarter, Skeeter had taught him how to look out for himself. Skeeter loved him, she had told him so. He tried to remember the things that she had told him, he remembered her saying that his emotions were so strong because his heart was bigger than his brain. He remembered her saying that he had to try harder to let his brain have time to work before he let those strong heart feelings get him into trouble.

"Get a grip, I need to get a grip, I need time to get a grip." He said the mantra that Skeeter had taught him to himself, and felt it take effect. Mike felt himself relax. "Get a grip, I need to get a grip, I need time to get a grip." He got up and found the pieces of the phone and put it back together again. Putting the phone back together gave him something to do with his hands while his mind chanted the mantra until he felt better.

Big Mike settled into his chair and sipped his coffee, forcing himself to calm down. Skeeter always told him he was smart but he couldn't do a lot of shit at one time. So big Mike sat there and sipped his coffee while his slow moving mind figured out what he needed to focus on. He couldn't find Skeeter without his truck and Reek had his truck. He didn't have any money so he was going to have to take the truck by force or find a way to steal it back from Reek.

Once he understood the problem he was okay and he understood the problem he faced now. He pictured Reek's little shack at the end of that dirt road, the kids up front, the woods all around, Reek and his two or three friends. Once he had hunted in that area it seemed to Mike that there was an old logging trail that came within quarter of a mile of Reek's place. Mike had drained the pot of coffee and wasted over an hour before he came up with his plan. He would ride over there and make his plan then, but he would take some stuff with him when he went.

Years ago his grandfather, an avid bird hunter, had sawn off the barrels on his double-barrel twelve gauge shotgun, he was half blind and couldn't shoot birds any longer. He was gone on overnight trips sometimes and wanted something for home protection, something he or his wife could point in the general direction of whatever you wanted to shoot and feel sure to hit something. After the old man had died they had kept the gun in a trunk in his father's room, where he also found a box of double 0 buckshot shotgun shells. Mike took a pocket full of shells and then loaded both barrels of the gun. Close up, both barrels would be like a canon's blast, across a yard or large room it would be more like a claymore mine. Either way it was something that might change the minds of most men about wanting to fight.

The gun's barrels were only ten inches long and the stock had been cut to look like an old dueling pistol grip. The total length from tip of stock to tip of barrel was only twenty inches. Just the risk of carrying the sawed off shotgun was enough to make most people avoid the use of such a weapon, just having the sawed off shotgun was a federal crime punishable by ten years in jail. But if you did take that risk, and showed up at any kind of fight with such a weapon and a willingness to use it, you were going to win.

Mike tied a leather boot lace to the gun and slung it over his head letting the gun hang under his arm. He buckled his belt with his knife's scabbard attached and hung it over his head letting the knife hang under his other arm. Slipping a large short sleeve shirt on over his armory, he checked the mirror, satisfying himself that the weapons couldn't be seen. With the air of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, Big Mike went into the garage and straddled his dad's four wheeler, the machine roared as he left the garage, all four tires kicking gravel and grass into the air when he hit the power company's right-of-way headed toward Reek's place. It was only about six miles to where he would leave the four wheeler on the R.O.W. and walk to Reeks. He felt that he would have his truck in an hour, and then he could find Skeeter.

******************

Skeeter stepped from the shower stall, wet and shiny, and ran naked to jump into the bed beside Silas. But the bed was empty; she rolled across it to lay on her back, looking up at the mirrored ceiling. She spread herself open on the bed, spread-eagled as though tied to the four bedposts, and pretended to be waiting on her lover's return. The door opened, flooding the dark room with extreme brightness. Silas stood in partial silhouette, the light playing up the angles on his face, she watched his expressions change as his eyes adjusted to the light in the room and he saw Skeeter.

He stepped inside and closed the door. Silas held a cold can of coke in each hand as he came over and sat on the bed. He was an old man in years but he had spent them with a very modest wife, a woman who would never reveal her nakedness in broad daylight, not even to her husband. Consequently, he had not had the opportunity to see a naked woman very often. It was obvious what the naked youngster was offering to him, but he knew he wasn't up to a second round, he felt drained. Hell she had almost given him a heart attack less than ten minutes ago, and she was ready to go again. The whole situation made him realize what an old fool he had been to think his tired old body could keep up with her, that he could sexually satisfy her. Silas just wanted to get away now without any hurt feelings. "Baby, I wish I could but I'm afraid that I'm a one trick pony. Oh, I could try, but half way through I would lose my starch and it would just embarrass both of us." He offered her the cold coke can.

Skeeter took the offered drink and let her other hand trace the outline of Silas's dick in his pants. "Silas, folks tell me that I'm pretty good at what I do. I can get you off again." Skeeter grinned and said, "if I can't get you off again then you ain't out nothing because I won't charge you a cent but if I can get you off then will you get us a fifty?"

Silas had sold three calves at the sale today and got better then he had expected, he had the money, but did he want to spend it like this? He had already spend fifty bucks on the way to the room, Silas didn't do drugs so Skeeter did the whole fifty by herself, but by god the woman was fun to be with, she made a man feel like a boy again, and like that boy he used to be, Silas felt a stirring in his loins. 'No fool like an old fool,' he thought as he said, "Well, I don't hardly see how I could lose on a proposition like that. Have at it."

Skeeter pulled him toward the bed, "Silas we have to start slow and give this tired old dick of yours time to get recharged again. Lay right down here and let me see what I can do to help you out here." As she talked she was removing the man's pants, pushing him back onto the bed, crawling up his legs to put her face above his crotch, enjoying her power over the man. Her control of his body and to a certain extent his mind was enough to turn Skeeter on a little too.

Silas was amazed to feel the reactions of his body to the young lady's efforts as she ran her lips along the side of his dick, her voice a tiny vibration against his most sensitive parts. When Skeeter climbed onto the bed with him and slid herself down until her crotch lay on the bed at Silas's face level, while her face was directly above his hardening dick.

"Wet your finger and play with my clit for me," Skeeter said as her lips grazed along his dick. "Silas play with me, make me cum while I suck your cock. Do me, I need you to do me Silas." Skeeter slipped her mouth over his average cock and took him all inside, tickling her nose in his pubic hair. She felt his finger, wet and tender, as he stroked over the general area of where her clit was. He was very awkward, but he was trying; Skeeter gave him a moan as a reward for his labors.

"Damn, girl, you are good at what you do." He let his finger slide along her slit, not entering it just skimming along its length, lightly stroking up and down. She felt dry, He wet his finger again and let it slip up and down the slit, he could watch her lips seem to swell. She was still dry though, he wet his finger again tasting her on his finger when he did. His finger found its way back to her pussy, the thing was opening like a flower.

He had never seen a pussy from this angle; he had never cheated on his wife and he had only had a few sexual experiences before his marriage. It was an incredibly beautiful sight and it had a strange effect on him. He wet his finger again, this time he sucked his finger enjoying the taste, he took his dripping wet finger and let it slip inside her to the first knuckle, no further and worked it around until it was wet and juicy.

Skeeter had got him started playing with her pussy just to get him involved; the more involved in the sexual act he was, the quicker he would cum. but as he worked his fingers on her sex so lovingly she began to respond. She came up off his dick and told him. "Just lightly stroke it, don't fuck it with your fingers just stroke along it. That's where the feelings are."

Silas was becoming a lover, after sixty eight years, he was going to get a woman off. Sex was something his wife did for him when he needed it, but she had made it clear that she took no enjoyment from it. She submitted to his animal desires because the Lord said she should, it was a duty she had to perform, nothing more. But now he finally had found a woman who would tell him what she wanted, and he wanted to make it good for her. His wife would never have done something like this, not in a million years. Her rigid beliefs forced the two of them to pay a high price in missed pleasures, but she was gone now, safe with her Lord the past four years and Silas was on his own.

He watched his fingers as they teased her slit, running up and down so slick and smooth on her soft lips. He wet his fingers again, she tasted so clean and she looked pink and clean. Her clean shaven pussy so different from his wife's dark and hairy nest; it seemed to be inviting him to play with it. Suddenly he was overcome with a desire to put his mouth on her to taste her without the finger. He wanted to push his tongue as deep into her as he could, wanted to breathe her in and breathe out into her. It would be the first time he had ever kissed a woman there, but he had never felt the desire to before.

Skeeter felt his hands on her thighs as he picked her up and set her down with his mouth pressed tight against her pussy, their lips meshed as his tongue explored inside her. This did not happen to working girls very often, and it was kinda sweet of the old guy to want to get her off too. And she could tell by the dick in her mouth that he was getting into it as much as she was. She applied herself to getting him to cum before something burst his bubble.

The taste of a woman was a new treat for Silas and he discovered that he liked it very much. It excited him and made him want more, while Skeeter's mouth made his dick feel so fucking fine. He was as hot as he had been in years and knew he was about to blow, he wanted to get her off first if he could. But alas that was not to be as he shot his hot load deep into her throat as she went deep on him.

Skeeter sucked gently until his dick was softening, then she rose up on her elbows on the bed and caught his eye. "For an old guy you do pretty damn good at sucking pussy." Skeeter watched the old man as he struggled to catch his breath. "Are you okay?" she asked, worried by the color of his face.

"Yeah, I'm okay," it took him a moment before he could talk, "I'm feeling pretty damn good really." He gave the pretty little naked lady a smile. "Feeling better than I have in a long time, and I learned not to bet with the likes of you."

Skeeter laughed with him, she liked the old guy and hoped that he would become a regular. She had a group of old guys like Silas and Doug who kept her going. They were easily satisfied, didn't get out much so there was small risk of disease, and they had regular checks, so she knew when they had money. And best of all, she was the best thing they were ever going to be able to get. No other woman would give them the time of day.

They talked and joked as they got dressed and in a few minutes Silas was letting her out with his apologies for not wanting to share the fifty with her. But he did give her the money before she got out across the street from the wall where he had picked her up. As she was crossing the street a guy in a white caddy started to blow his horn until he caught her attention. Silas watched in dismay as Skeeter never made it back to her seat on the retaining wall before some other guy had picked her up. Wondering how many dicks had been where his mouth had just been gave Silas a disturbing sense of excitement mixed with shame. Watching in his rearview mirror Silas saw Skeeter get into the Caddy and drive away.

Big Mike tried to ignore the buzz and whine of the mosquitoes as he sat in the shade of the underbrush and watched Reek's house. There was no sign of his truck, but there were two newer cars, Mike knew most of Reek's customers but he didn't recognize either one of cars. He had been feeding the insects for ten minutes while he waited for two cars to leave. What the hell was going on in there? Generally someone runs in gets their shit and out the door they go.

While he waited Big Mike studied the house and surrounding area. Built in a low lying area the house sat on top of nine concrete block towers, two blocks thick and four blocks tall. They raised the house some thirty inches above the ground leaving a cool dark space beneath. The tall uncut grass was nearly as tall as ripe wheat and would help conceal somebody under the house. He could listen then and find out how many were inside with Reek, but then he had another idea and the more the thought on it, the better he liked it. It took another thirty minutes before the group of men and women walked out, all excited and laughing, climbed into their cars and left together in a cloud of dust down the dirt lane. Mike eased out from the brush and crouching low, made his way to the back of the house.