Houseeeping

[This is the seventh chapter in the series HouseKeeping. It would be best if you could read first Chapters 1 through 6 so you can gain the benefit of knowing the backstory of Chapter 7 This chapter has a little more than sex in it in an effort to keep the attention of the horny readers. But the story is still erotic as hell for those who enjoy erotic tension and voyeuristic pleasures. As always, please feel free to offer any feedback you want. An author always values feedback from his readers.]

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I had put down the top to my Jag X-Type, and the warm spring weather provided sunshine to warm us and wind to cool us. I looked over at Kelsey. The smile on her face was all needed to see, and it called a matching smile to my face. As the wind blew her hair, I noticed that it also affected her blouse. She wore a white silk blouse that buttoned down the front, and she had left the top four buttons undone. And the wind was having its way with her blouse, blowing it open and showing off the lacy white bra underneath. She looked over at me and caught me staring at her cleavage.

"Eyes on the road, mister. I don't want to die today." Her words sounded like a rebuke but the warmth in her voice told me that she appreciated my frequent glances at her boobs.

My hand was resting on the gearshift knob, and she covered my hand with hers. "You know, I really like the fact that you look at me like that. A woman likes to feel sexy and appreciated now and then." And she squeezed my hand, and left it covering mine.

"Well, you must be feeling really sexy right now because I am really looking at you." My heart wanted to say so much more, but my brain decided to stop at that.

Half an hour after leaving my house, I pulled off the Interstate and drove into the parking lot of a modest looking restaurant. As I held the door of the Jag open for her to get out, I enjoyed looking down her blouse, almost like I had never seen her cleavage before. And, of course, she caught me looking. But instead of saying anything, she froze in position, half in and half out of the car, to let me get a better look.

"I should charge for that, mister," she said, but with a very broad smile on her face.

"And I would gladly pay," I responded, with an equally broad smile.

A fresh cool breeze struck us as I opened the door, and the smells carried by that breeze made my stomach growl with anticipation. The cool breeze also blew open Kelsey's blouse and pressed her hard nipples against the slightly translucent material in a very erotic way. A server immediately came to the door to welcome us, and she glanced down at Kelsey's visible cleavage. I recognized her as the wife of the husband-wife team that owned the place, and was surprised that she was serving this morning. Plus, I noticed that the place seemed more crowded than usual, and said so to the woman as she escorted us to an empty table.

"Yes, we have a group of truckers here this morning, keeping us all entertained." She did not sound happy about that entertainment, or about the truckers.

As she spoke, laughter erupted from two tables near where she seated us. Six men sat at the two tables, sipping their coffee. Two of them whistled at Kelsey as she sat down with her back to them. She absentmindedly pulled her blouse together, but I noticed she hadn't buttoned any of the buttons which were left undone.

"I would love it of we could start with two coffees as quickly as humanly possible. She has threatened to bite my head off if she doesn't get her coffee immediately." I smiled at the server, whose name tag said "Shirley," and then looked at Kelsey. She silently worded, thank you, and then began looking at the menu.

"Coming right up," was the quick response as the server spun around and headed toward the coffee station. A few seconds later she returned with two cups of steaming coffee just as the truckers burst into more laughter.

"They have been enjoying themselves for an hour, and enjoying whatever else they could grab while they were at it. My usual server is back in the break room because she got tired of being pawed. I guess they aren't interested in pawing an old woman like me, and it is the good thing they don't!" A little grit and determination glinted in Shirley's eyes as she made that last comment.

"I noticed your usual server wasn't out here. And I don't think I ever remember you leaving the kitchen before. You and Jerry are always back there cooking up some awesome food." Todd's comment came as he looked over at the men with a knowing glance.

She looked closer at Todd, and then recognition came to her eyes. "I remember you from before. You have been here several times, haven't you? Not frequently, but regularly."

I smiled my appreciation at being recognized. "At least a dozen times, but only every couple of months. I am surprised you recognized me."

"Oh, I have a good memory for faces. And you are a good tipper, if I remember correctly. One of the problems of being a country diner is that some of the folk don't think my girls need to eat and pay bills. One of my girls has 2 kids and a husband to support." She chuckled at her own comment, but I noticed that there was no humor in it.

"I would kick his ass if he didn't tip well when I am around." Looking at me, Kelsey decided to add to the conversation. "I put myself through college waitressing at two diners at the same time, both of them like this one, so I know what you mean. Some men don't realize that servers often have families to support." Kelsey spoke with feeling, indicating that she knew what she was talking about.

"You tell it, girl!" She turned to Todd and said, "I like this girl. I think she is a keeper." Her grin was directed at both Todd and Kelsey. "I don't think I have seen you with her before. She new?" With that last comment, she nudged Todd in the shoulder and walked off.

"What did she mean? Do you bring a lot of women here?" Kelsey had that inscrutable look on her face again.

"No, only one at a time." I tried to keep from smiling as I busied myself by pouring over the menu. Kelsey stared at me and looked like she was going to say something. And then she, too, looked at the menu. After a couple minutes of silence, I closed the menu and set it aside.

"Everything they serve here is good, but I recommend their skillet breakfast. It has everything anyone could want served in a searing steel platter piled high and hot - eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns, mushrooms, and cheese. I order it just about every time I come here." My mouth began to water just thinking about it.

And then the truckers decided to get obnoxious. A rather crude comment from one of them drew the laughs from several others. I couldn't quite discern what was said, but the word "titts" was clear enough for Kelsey's face to turn red in embarrassment.

I took another look at Kelsey's clothes. She was wearing tight black slacks that emphasized her narrow waist flaring out to her awesome tight ass, and the silk blouse was made of a very flimsy almost see-through material, with most of the buttons unused, offering a significant amount of cleavage for viewing. I realized why the men wanted to see more. Hell, I myself wanted to see more.

"Just try to ignore them," Shirley's advice came from behind me as she walked up to take our order. "They should be going soon. I am sorry for that, honey." That last was directed specifically at Kelsey.

"It's okay. Not your fault that some men are pigs!" Kelsey said in exasperation, just a little louder than she needed, and I found myself hoping that the men had not heard her. I didn't want any trouble from them, at least not until Kelsey and I had eaten. I ordered the skillet breakfast and was please to note that Kelsey ordered the same.

As Shirley left to call the order back to her husband, who was the primary cook for the establishment, one of the truckers said something about pigs and all six of the men laughed. Then they turned to Kelsey.

"So, we are pigs, are we?" one of them asked. The men fell silent waiting for the response.

"I see no reason to believe otherwise," Kelsey responded after a second's pause. She looked at me and I subtly shook my head, my body language suggesting that she just ignore them.

"Listen, guys. We don't want any trouble. We just want to eat and get on our way." I stepped in, trying to avoid a confrontation. I wasn't sure it would help, but I had to try. And in doing do, I realized I sounded too much like a wimp to make an impact. I saw Kelsey give me a startled look and realized that she was uncomfortable with the wimp, too.

"Oh, we don't want any trouble, either," the trucker who seemed to be the leader responded with another laugh. "We just want to see her tits."

"Well, that isn't going to happen. Sorry to disappoint you." My words were firm, but I hoped not too confrontational, as I tried to reverse the wimp image I had just displayed.

The response from the two tables quieted down, and a comment here and there indicated their crude sense of humor was still controlling the conversation. But things seemed to be back to normal by the time Shirley brought our breakfast skillets to the table.

"I hope you can enjoy your breakfast. Let me know if you want my husband to talk with them." Kelsey assured her that everything was under control, and Shirley walked away shaking her head. For the next twenty minutes the diner was quiet.

Kelsey and I ate our meals quickly. When we had finished the last of our coffee, I stood and walked over to the cash register to pay the tab. But Shirley refused my money.

"Please - the meal is on the house. Consider it an apology for the crude abuse you and the lady had to endure."

"No, Shirley. The abuse was not your fault. The food was great and the service was as good as always. That means you earned your money. Please humor me and take it." I was clear and insistent that I pay for the food. Shirley shrugged her shoulders and hesitated, but finally accepted the money. And I made sure there was a significant tip involved.

I walked back to the table and pulled Kelsey's chair out as she stood up. But when we turned around, the six truckers formed a wall between us and the door.

"She ain't leaving without showing her tits." The growl in the leader's voice was almost animalistic, and the other truckers were clearly there with an intent to back him up.

"Well, that is indeed unfortunate. Because she is not going to show her tits." My voice was hard, and I looked the man square in the eyes as I responded.

"There are six of us." The threat was clear, but I didn't even blink.

"Would you like a minute to call some friends?" My question seemed to leave the truckers more than a little confused. "Listened, men, we really don't want any trouble. Please move aside and let us go."

"She ain't leaving here without showing us her tits." This from another trucker, but they all nodded their heads in agreement.

"Do I need to call 911?" Shirley's question showed significant concern. I looked around at the other customers there, and saw maybe a dozen people stand and move away from the truckers.

"Listen, Todd, maybe a flash wouldn't hurt, so we can all leave here peacefully." Kelsey's voice was quiet and she made her suggestion with more hope than conviction.

"See? The whore wants to show her tits. Just step aside and let it happen." The man who seemed to be the leader made the comment, but the biggest of the six men grunted and stepped forward as if to get a better look.

I tried to appear completely at ease as I looked each man in the eyes. I am not a small man, standing at three inches more than six feet, and weighing in at 215 pounds. But it was clear that five of the six men were either taller than me, or weighed more than I did. And one of the men was almost a giant, his large body towering over me by at least three or four inches and outweighing me by more than sixty pounds. Then I took a step closer to the leader. Looking him directly in the eyes, I called out to Shirley, "I don't think you need to call the cops. But you should probably call for an ambulance."

"You want to have one on the way for when we beat you to a pulp?" One of the other men asked the question as he laughed, while the leader continued to stare at me.

"Guys, you really need to stand down." This time my voice was quiet, loud enough for only the truckers to hear. "I am asking you one last time to please step aside and allow us to leave peacefully."

"And if we don't?" The leader's voice was clearly threatening.

"If you don't, I am going to hurt you." My words were quiet and laced with steel.

The two men stared at each other for at least five or six seconds. Then the leader made his decision, and raised his hands as he tried to push me backward. But I had made my decision several minutes earlier. I reached across my body with my right hand and grabbed the man's right wrist before he could make his intended contact At the same time, I used my left hand for additional leverage, and with both hands I twisted the man's wrist hard while I yanked it down to waist level. Faced with having his wrist twisted off his arm, the man's body made the decision to practically jump into a somersault. He landed on his back, hitting the floor hard. As the man was flipping in mid-air, I twisted a quarter-turn to my right and pulled the man's extended arm hard against my thigh. Just a little more pressure and the man's arm would break at the elbow.

"Please. I am asking one more time to let us leave peacefully." My voice was amazingly calm as I pleaded with the men to stand aside. But my words clearly made no difference at all. A second trucker stepped forward and drew back his fist to throw a punch at my unprotected face. Without letting go of the first trucker's wrist, I simply leaned back a few inches and the man's fist went sailing past my face. But before the man could recover his balance and pull his fist back, I slammed the heel of my right hand into the man's face with all my strength. The crunch of the man's nose breaking was drowned out by the man's scream. He stumbled back two steps, allowing everyone see his profusely bleeding nose and torn lips, and dropped on his butt. There was a pause in the action for about three seconds, during which I shifted my grip on the man's wrist and wrapped my right hand around two fingers of the man's trapped hand. I jerked the fingers to the side and everyone heard the crunch of the fingers breaking, followed by the tortured scream of the man on the floor. I twisted my body just a little more to my right, putting even more pressure on the man's elbow. He was bellowing in pain nonstop by this time. I tried to make my voice heard above the man's cries.

"Please. I am asking one more time to let us leave peacefully. If you don't, I will continue breaking more of his fingers until you do." To the other customers in the diner, it sounded like I was merely reading the menu. But to the truckers still on their feet, it was like a red flag to a bull. Instead of stepping aside, another one of the men charged forward and pulled back his fist to strike. I didn't hesitate, and without letting go of the first trucker's fingers, I pulled up my left leg and stomped hard on the outside of the man's left knee The man's knee buckled and he hit the floor, adding his screams to the man with broken fingers.

Giving a bellow, the giant rushed at me. This time, I let go of the wrist and fingers in my grasp and took a quick step toward the charging man, striking the man in the chest with all of my strength. The crack of at least two ribs breaking and the oomph of the man losing all the air in his lungs were the only sounds. The man reversed course in mid-stride as if rammed by a bull, and without another sound he fell to the floor unconscious.

The click of a switchblade indicated the next attack, and the fifth trucker charged, clearly planning to shove the knife into my mid-section. Kelsey screamed, but I calmly slapped the man's hand, deflecting the attempt to stab me. Then I used both of my own hands and clapped the man hard on both ears with my flat palms. This caused the man's eardrums to burst, followed by another scream as he fell to his knees. And then everything went silent.

I looked at the last man standing, and my look was returned for a full three seconds. Then the man took a step back and held up his hands as if in surrender.

"Not me, man. I got no beef with you. I never wanted to see her tits anyway." The man tried to grin but failed miserably at it. He took another step back with his hands still in the air.

"Thank you for your cooperation. Now, listen carefully." I looked hard at the man, and then pointed at the first attacker with the broken fingers. "Pull his fingers straight, then tape them together and put them on ice. That is all a doctor can do for him. Give him some pain killers, and he should be just fine until they wear off. Then give him some more pain killers. In three weeks he should be good as new."

Pointing to the man with the injured knee, I went on. "Wrap his knee in ice and in an hour remove the ice and wrap his knee with another ace bandage. That should take care of him. Nothing you can do for ruptured eardrums. Just don't go underwater for a few weeks." And pointing at the man with the crushed ribs, I continued. "If he still has a heartbeat, wrap his ribs in a couple more ace bandages, firmly but not too tightly. Then tell him to take it easy for a couple of weeks. Nothing else you can do for him." Last, I looked at the man with the mangled face. "Nothing much you can do for him, either. He might need stitches for his lips. Pull on his nose until you are sure it is straight, and then tape it in place. You got all that?" The man nodded, but his face was totally blank. I was not sure he would remember what he was told, but really didn't care.

"Shirley, no furniture or dishes were broken, so are we good?" Shirley looked as if she was in shock, but nodded anyway. "Okay, we will be leaving. If the sheriff gets involved and wants to question me, tell him I will be back in three or four days. I won't press any charges against these pigs, but if he still needs to talk with me, tell him to leave a message with you, and I will be happy to stop by his office to answer any questions when I come back through. Got all that?" Again, Shirley just nodded her head.

"Okay, we are going to finish our vacation. Ya'll have a great day." After a look around at the stunned customers, I reached for Kelsey's hand and pulled her from the restaurant.

Three minutes down the Interstate, we were approaching a pull-over rest area. The entire time since leaving the diner, Kelsey had not said a word, but had stared straight ahead, while stealing only a couple of glances at me. Another inscrutable expression was plastered over her face. I made a decision and pulled over into the rest area. When the car rolled to a stop, I killed the ignition.

"Okay, say it." My words were a little sharper than I intended and I immediately regretted that.

"What?" Her response seemed to be confused.

'You haven't said a word since we left the restaurant. Do you want to turn around and go back home?" My voice sounded logical and objective but my feelings were anything but that.

"Home? Why would I want to go back home?" If she seemed confused before, she was really confused now.

"Well, because you are angry and disgusted at the violence. You never imagined me capable of such things, and now that you have seen it firsthand, you think you can't get all warm and emotional with a man who almost killed people today. Right? It turned you off so much that you want to go home." I paused and then let my emotions show more than I intended. With defeat in my voice, I continued. "I guess I understand. We can turn around at the next exit. I will have you home within the hour." By the time this last came out, my disappointment was clear and my voice almost broke.