Darrell Gold walked from the kitchen to the front door and looked though the screen at the cloud of dust that was rising from the road. Grabbing his handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and then squinted. Through the afternoon haze and the wavy heat waves he could just see the black vehicle as it slowed and turned in through his gate.
"Damn, so soon?" he muttered, kicking open the door and stepping onto his porch. As the car got closer he sat down on his wooden rocker and began creaking back and forth. He could hear his wife bustling about inside the house now and figured she spotted the tell-tale dust trail.
"Is it...," he heard her mutter inside the screen door.
"How in the hell am I to know?" he replied. "Just get in there and wait for him to get up the drive."
A bright light flashed in his eyes and he quickly held up his hand, blocking the sun as it reflected off the windshield of the foreign car. The black car now looked about the color of rust, the dust coating every inch of it. When the car slid to a stop, it through up a dusty cloud and the reddish powder seemed to drip off the dull chrome.
Darrell watched as the door opened and a short man climbed out of the car. He had an odd happy bounce to his step that made Darrell want to drag him back and forth across the rotting wood of his porch. Instead he simply continued to rock in his chair as the man took the three steps up onto the porch and moved toward the door.
Quickly jumping up and positioning himself between the man and the door, Darrell put his hands in his pockets and growled, "Are you the one?"
"I am," was all the man said as a condescending smile ever so slowly crept onto his face. He continued to smile until Darrell stepped back toward his chair.
"Sally, he is here," he cried out to his wife. He then stood motionless as his wife, wearing a new dress and make-up, for Christ's sake, sauntered up to the door. Darrell watched her push it open and reach her hand out to the man. When the man extended his hand to her, she took it without a word and led him into their bedroom.
Darrell looked back up the roadway and watched for a few minutes as the dust clouds continued to settle, coating everything in sight in a brownish red. Looking upward, the sun seemed almost brown in the haze, but wait, there in the distance was there a hint of white? He squinted his eyes and then shook his head, "No, just another mirage," he figured to himself.
Sally had asked him to wait on the porch, or even better, go on out and work on the barn, or the tractor, anything to keep his mind off of things. He looked down at the chair, over to the barn and then to the dust covered car parked in front of his porch before he opened the screen door and stepped back into his house. The door to the bedroom was closed but he could hear everything that was going on inside. Moving over to the couch he sat down, turned a bit to the side and then moved his face close to the wall, where he could peek through a crack in the plaster and look into the bedroom.
His wife was already on the bed, and for someone who complained to him that she didn't want to do this, she sure seemed ready and willing, actually reaching out and taking hold of his erect cock. She began stroking it and running it over her tiny breasts. The man reached down and pinched a nipple, but quickly lost interest and ran his hand over the ripples of her ribs, over the sharp angle of her hip and through the curly patch of hair between her legs.
He began to move up between her legs, but she held his cock firm, stroking it faster and faster until he grabbed her skinny wrist and pulled her hand off his cock. Kneeling between her legs, he leaned forward as he guided his cock toward her pussy. It took a few moments for him to finally work it in and Darrell could hear his wife whimper as the man grunted and thrust himself forward.
