Author's notes: . I found this gathering dust in the corner of my hard drive. I had completed the first draft on a little better than three chapters of what I hoped to be a much longer work, before writer's block sat in and I put it aside to write Momma and Me. Since I don't like the idea of 13 submissions, (now don't tell me I'm superstitious, I THINK OF IT AS NOT TAKING CHANCES.), I decided to dust it off, write it a little tighter, and see what you guys thought about it. Is it worth the effort to continue writing? (You're a tough bunch of critics, if you think something is a waste of time, you don't hesitate to say it.)
Because it was planned as a longer work, you'll notice characters mentioned that were to come into play later.
As always, I welcome your comments and details on what you think I've done wrong; as well as your suggestions on how to improve the story if I decide to finish. THANKS the dreamer.
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CHAPTER ONE
The small town of Jones Corner, located on a major US highway, rested for over a century in what people called the Carolina Low -country. It existed mainly as a supply point for farmers and a bedroom community for people who wanted country living, and didn't mind a long drive twice a day, in order to make good money working at a major defense plant.
Anyone who wanted to eat and not cook had to drive at least twenty miles to one of the larger towns. Back in the fifties, a fellow named Joe Appleby got the idea to open a little Mom and Pop type place, serving what today would be called fast food. Joe Appleby's Place, as the locals called it, was an instant hit.
They served homemade sandwiches and desserts of all kinds, but the item that put him on the map, of places to eat, was the lowly hamburger. There were very few, who sunk their teeth into the third pound freshly butchered beef patty served on a slightly toasted bun, that didn't come back time and again for another.
Joe was a pretty sharp business man, so he decided there was no reason that people in the other towns wouldn't feel the same as his customers. He visited the local bank, there was only one, and in a few weeks a replica of Joe Appleby's Place was springing up in the neighboring town.
"Joe, a name like Joe Appleby's Place is too damn long." Mike Jones, a decedent of the founder of Jones Corner and Joe's best friend since childhood, remarked, one freezing January morning; removing his hat and coat while waiting for an order of "sh*t on the shingle," also known in the more civilized world as "Creamed beef on toast." What made it different from most others was Joe used ground hamburger meat, seasoned to perfection. Nobody knew exactly what he seasoned it with, not even Mike.
"What do you mean, too long? It's my name."
"Yeah, Joe, I know it's your name but it just don't sing—you know what I mean, it's not catchy."
"Catchy, huh?" Joe mulled it over in his mind all morning. By the time Mike came in for his afternoon cup of coffee, Joe realized his friend was right. He joined Mike with a fresh pot and by the time the friends had finished the pot, what would one day become the JAPS restaurant chain was born. JAPS—short for Joe Appleby's Places.
JAPS, the favorite meeting place for locals, made money, some would say "hand over fist," until that fateful day, several years later when a state surveying crew ordered lunch at JAPS and let the cat out of the bag. The Interstate was no longer just a rumor; a major exchange would be located less than a mile from JAPS.
"Oh, hell!" Mike's words of wisdom for Joe were short that morning. "Everybody flocks to something new, Joe. The new fast food places will wipe you out, unless you come up with a great idea soon."
Great ideas were Joe's specialty. He made trip to the bank and called a good contractor. By the time the first car pulled off the Interstate; it had a choice between two well-known fast food restaurants and JAPS.
True, the Yankees traveling I 95, had never heard of JAPS, but Joe had played two cards; JAPS now looked like an up and coming fast food place, with a lot of the "Old South Look," on the outside, while inside it was roomy and arranged for diners to eat and run, but there were also corners where groups could sit and talk as long as they desired, while sipping on bottomless cups.
Joe had hit the jackpot. The senior citizens, known locally as the JAPS Gang, and then shortened to just, the Gang, had already formed the habit of swapping lies in JAPS for most of the morning. Their numbers grew and their cars were sitting in the parking lot.
It was only natural for people to be curious about that many customers in an unheard of place, and they just had to see for themselves. Once treated to JAPS great food and service, many passed the word, and JAPS became the favorite place for not only locals, but the North-South tourist trade as well.
CHAPTER TWO
A few years passed. Mike retired and became unofficial leader of the gang. They spent every morning, if they didn't have a doctor's appointment, enjoying the house special, a SOS plate. Then they would hang around drinking free coffee until eleven while telling some of the biggest lies ever heard in the Low-country. That in itself was a noteworthy accomplishment, for the area had long been known for its tall tales.
Mike was a widower who hadn't let himself go after losing his wife. Standing just a tad over six feet, with a full head of silvery white hair, and a body formed by years of hard work, he was considered a catch by the widows and divorcees, who gathered at JAPS each morning. In fact, more than a few women, who fell in neither category, had slipped Mike a folded paper with their numbers while mouthing "call me."
Mike, being a pillow of the community, would have summarily dismissed such shenanigans. However, being one of the few male members of the Gang, whose plumbing always worked, felt it his duty to keep up moral on the home front. While the husbands toiled away keeping the Navy equipped and ready to protect the world, Mike kept their wives happy.
Unfortunately at least one of the Gang's women, probably one who had a vacant spot she felt only Mike could fill, made a call to the husband of this morning's winner of "Mike's Queen For A Day," or at least "Queen For An Hour or Two" contest.
When Mike's selection of the day opened her door to Mike, he took her into his arms, showering kisses over her face and neck. He continued to hug her with one arm, while the other hand slipped under her top, where he found she hadn't bothered with a bra that morning.
"Auhhh," she moaned as he rubbed each breast in turn. When he tweaked her nipples between thumb and forefinger, she started tearing at his clothes.
"Easy, baby. I got to wear these things out of here." He stopped loving on her long enough to help her remove his clothes. As soon as she pulled down his boxers, his engorged cock flopped almost in her face. It wasn't porn star sized, but it was of a respectable length and if it had any more girth, few women would be able get it in their mouth. She didn't hesitate. She wrapped both hands around it, gave it a few strokes, licked the purplish glans, and then took it in her mouth. She sucked on it like a Pro, until Mike pushed her away.
"Hold up, Baby," everybody was Baby to Mike. That way he wouldn't make the mistake of calling out the wrong name in the throes of passion. "You keep that up and you'll miss the main event." He helped her strip down to her panties and then scooped her up as easily as he would a child, and carried her to her bedroom.
Mike laid her gently on the bed, and then he leaned over and started kissing on her. He began at her feet and worked his way up her leg. She spread her legs widely, allowing him easy access to her inner thigh; she tensed when he reached her cotton panties, as if she expected him to spend a little time in that area.
The musky odor of a turned on woman, mixed with just the hint of a perfume Mike couldn't readily identify, filled his nostrils as he traced the outline of her vee then moved to the skin just above her hairy cunt. She squirmed as he made his way, with quick, nippy kisses, up to her breast.
Her breasts were full, yet stood firmly away from her chest. Age and gravity hadn't had time to do their work. Nipples, the size of small marbles, protruded from caramel colored aureoles. They looked like cherries atop an ice cream sundae. Mikes tongue slithered around first one , then the other, before he took one in his lips and tugged on it to see just how far he could get it to stand out.
Her hands were tearing at him, feeling every part of his body she could reach, before she discovered she could get her hand on the cock she needed so badly. She wrapped her hand around it and started pumping. That started feeling too good and Mike knew he better move on to bigger and better things.
"Hurry!" She urged, while lifting her hips to facilitate removal of her white panties, when he caught the waistband and started tugging them off her shapely hips. Mike noticed her panties were wet, and as he tugged them past her ankles, he finally identified the heady fragrances; Wind Song and pussy, filled the air.
Dropping them on the floor, he crawled onto the bed. He positioned himself on all fours, between her legs. She spread them as wide as she could while he got in position, then getting a better idea she pulled her knees as far toward her shoulders as she could.
Mike helped by catching under her legs and propping her legs over his broad shoulders while he kneeled in position and swiped the head of his cock through her moist slit, letting her juices coat it for easier entry.
Placing his stiff cock on her moist labia, he shoved gently. He could feel the head of his cock slip into her warm, slick passage. Her cunt's inner muscles resisted briefly but when she wiggled they relaxed and he slipped in until their pelvic hairs meshed.
"Uhhh," she groaned trying to push up against him.
"Yessss," she moaned when Mike withdrew until the head was barely in her channel, and then shoved it back in as deep as it would go. He continued with long, slow strokes. She was groaning with each stroke, while Mike muttered things like, "Oh! Oh! Oh, Baby, I can't take much of this." Finally, when he really could stand no longer, his cock started diving in and out like the piston on a revved up V-8.
"Awwww! Ohhhhhh! Yessssss, give it to me," she shouted loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Her entire body shuddered, then relaxed.
Mike's balls actually hurt when they pumped shot after shot of sperm into her spent pussy.
