Smoey Roads

I must have run the 'Hooch' road a dozen times and never noticed it off to my right. It was a small white farmhouse just to the Tennessee side of the old route that ran through the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. The road had several sections including the Old Cataloochee Turnpike but in the younger years of my grandfather it was all just the 'Hooch Road'; a winding dirt race track through the Carolina Mountains that helped form the basis for today's NASCAR culture: moonshine runners.

The house was neat with a fresh whitewash, straight as a pin with split rail fencing enclosing the pasture off to its side. With a patched radiator hose and steam working its way through the hood of my truck I knew I didn't have much run time left on this stretch of road so I pulled into the gravel drive and parked half way to the house.

"Hello ... anybody home?" I yelled out after rapping on the wooden screen door.

Mountain folk can be a bit peculiar with strangers but once they get to know you there isn't a better group of people anywhere. Nonetheless I kept my distance on the porch just in case. A few moments later a face obscured by an upstairs screen window responded.

"Yeah ... who are you and what do you need?" a woman's voice replied.

"Yes, ma'am, my name is Joshua Sutton from over in Waynesville and I was hoping I could work on my truck and get some water from you. I got a busted radiator hose I patched up real quick a few miles back but it's not going to get me any further down the road the way it is."

"Wait right there." She said to me and disappeared from the window.

I glanced around and noticed how clean and tidy everything was. The screens were all in good repair and porch was freshly painted and off to the side a garden had come in nicely. When I turned back to the screen door there were two large German Shepherds standing guard in the doorway, silent and obedient to their master.

"As long as you behave yourself the dogs will leave you alone." The woman said and opened the screen door for me.

"Come on in. You need anything to drink?"

"Yes, please, a glass of water would do just fine, ma'am."

"You any kin to the Sandy Hollow Suttons? There's a whole clan of them over in Zachy Hollow." She looked me over as she asked.

"No ma'am, at least not that I know of. My dad's family goes back several generations in Waynesville and nobody ever talked of any kin in Sandy Hollow but I guess you never know."

She brought me a glass of water and motioned for me to take a seat as the dogs sat on their haunches and watched every move I made. The cool iced water quenched my dusty thirst while the breeze from the overhead fan air-dried my sweat soaked shirt.

"My name's Sandra Dresser and the couple over there are Sampson and Delilah." The two dogs just continued to sit with both tongues hanging long off the corner of their mouths.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Ms. Sandra. I was hoping you might have some supplies around that I could make a short flex pipe out of, rubber of some sort. I noticed the old car collection on the side of your pasture over there."

"Oh heck, you can have whatever you need off of any of them if it helps you."

"I appreciate it, Sandra." I replied and rose up from the table, slowly as not to spook the dogs. It didn't work and both dogs were on all fours before Sandra spoke the command 'sit'. They both returned to their haunches.

She led the way out the door with me and the two dogs in tow and I admired her attractive form as she stepped down off the porch. I guessed her age to be around 30 or so and she had long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail tucked through the opening of a ball cap. Work boots, form fitting jeans and an old deadhead tee shirt completed the look matched with a pair of bright blue eyes.

After grabbing some tools from my truck we walked down through the pasture to the collection of old cars parked behind a weathered barn. With some exploring I was able to find some flexible steel and rubber hosing and clamps that would provide for a temporary fix. An hour later my truck was operational.

"It's getting close to supper time. Why don't you come in, get washed up and have a bite before you head out?" She asked with inviting sincerity.

I was hesitant at first but I was hungry too so I agreed. Besides the delightful odors coming from the kitchen would have held me captive regardless of any reluctance. I wasn't disappointed. Sandra had prepared a meal of smoked pork chops, mashed potatoes, collard greens and black eyed peas buttressed with hot, moist cornbread followed by bread pudding and hot coffee.

"Ms. Sandra, that was the best pile of food I've eaten in years, I mean it."

"It was nothing." She tried to lessen her efforts to no avail. "I don't get much company out here and I love to cook so I guess you came by about the right time, I guess."

She tossed a couple scraps to the two dogs that never left their watchful eyes over me the whole time I was in the house. In a gulp it was gone and they continued their mission with long tongues hanging out the mouth.

"About those old vehicles down by your barn, you know there are some folks that might like to pick a couple of them up if you were of a mind to sell them."

She looked at me a moment before looking away.

"They used to belong to my husband; I should say my ex-husband. They've been sitting there since the day he left."

"Well, I know one of those, the '65 Fairlane, is worth real good money when you have a mind to part with it; same is true with that '57 Ford pickup." I informed her.

"He's been gone for two years now and I suppose I should do something. I had a fellow from over in Knoxville stop by one day about a year ago offering to buy them for next to nothing. He took me for a fool and I sent him on his way."

She was smiling now thinking about it and it lit up the room.

I helped her cleanup the supper mess and when finished I knew I had to be on my way if I was going to get where I was going before nightfall. I'd only met the woman a few hours earlier but there was a politeness about her that was comfortable, attractive. I felt a bit disappointed that I had to leave.

"Ms. Sandra, I know somebody who would be real interested in that '57 Ford out there. If you want to explore selling it, I'd be happy to let him know. Let me give you a card and if you get to thinking that way, give me a call. I'd be happy to make a run out here. I'd like that a lot."

I think she knew I was making a hint about a return visit but I'd leave that in her hands at this point. I needed to get back on the road. We graciously shook hands and I fired up the truck and turned back onto the Hooch Road...

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I was coming up on Rt. 321 to take me to Pitman Center and I kept thinking of the good looking woman in the white farmhouse. She said her Ex left two years ago; that was about the same time I acquired my own Ex status and it seems like not a day goes by that I'm not reminded of how bad I supposedly have it and how damn good I had it back then. Of course it's all the wrong people reminding me about it.

I married the Ex-wife five years before her departure. Unlike Sandra's former husband, June Sutton keeps coming back even though the papers have been final for a year and a half now. I always thought they were a good five years and June continues to make that claim but a lot of dark water has passed under the bridge since then and now.

She was just a nineteen year old honey pot waitress in a barbeque joint when I first met her and I was a 23 year old master of nothing driving truck parts all over five counties and two states for a living. I was at least paying all the bills in my corner of the world. June was able to make her car payment while still living at home.

I asked her out and she turned me down as she was apparently 'going steady' with some goober kid over in Asheville. What she didn't know was she was steady pussy for the drum circle stooge and little else. By the time I made my next stop in the BBQ joint on a pass through trip, their relationship had been placed on hiatus. This time when I asked her out she accepted.

We had a good time grabbing a burger and with a six pack of beer in the truck we went to the fiddler shows over in Maggie Valley and had a great time. It was good enough that we did it a couple more times. On the third date I got a good taste of the future June Sutton's loving talents.

Little apple breasts, just mouthfuls with a small firm ass and a belly with actual six pack abs; I almost proposed the moment I pushed into her hot buttery kitty. As it was I popped the question a couple months later and we were married three months after that in an outdoor ceremony up next to an old country church in Sunburst, NC.

A year later we scraped up enough of a down payment to buy a little white frame house on a couple acres south of town. It wasn't anything fancy but it had enough room and space to put in a garden along with a barn I could use as a workshop.

Kids weren't in the picture at that point and June had enrolled at the local community college while still working at the BBQ joint afternoons and a couple evenings during the week. I pretty much stayed out on the road most days doing deliveries and taking orders with an occasional overnight trip if I went into Tennessee.

Life continued on that vein for the next couple of years or so until June graduated from school and took a job as a shift nurse at the local county hospital. I was still traveling daily and had been promoted into the regional area manager position. It didn't get me off the road much but the job compensated better with a piece of the commissions from all sales.

With both of us working fulltime now and June's shift work we had to make the best of the time we had together during the week. She usually had to pull a shift on every other weekend and rotated to nights every 12 weeks with 12 hour shifts. The only good thing about it was her bump in pay. After a couple of years she was making almost as much as me and we were able to double up the house payments.

On those weekends when her shifts allowed, we would hit a couple night spots over in Asheville usually with two or three other couples we knew. There were a few people from her workplace that started to join us as well and eventually we had a weekend party clique of around twelve that would get together in some form or another pretty regularly.

One of the places we enjoyed often was a dance hall out on Patton Road in Asheville. It was a long neck bottle kind of place with a good mix of people and we all fit in rather well. We all went as couples, most of us married and before the night was over I'd end up dancing with some of the others and June did likewise. No harm and no foul I always thought.

Occasionally folks might dance with people they knew there or went to school with. I did it too and so did June; like I said there was no harm. We all went home with who we arrived with. Yet, as with anything, eventually some polecat comes along and sprays everything up.

A few months after we started going to that particular place I was dancing with one of the girls at our table, a co-worker of June's named Terry, who somehow kept steering us off toward the other side of the dance floor. I didn't think anything of it because I was, well, innocent.

When the next number came up she kept me on the floor for a slow dance and turned up the furnace a good bit. We were on the far side of the floor away from our table when she dropped her hand down onto the front of my trousers, cupped my half aroused manhood in her fingers and gently squeezed.

"Jesus, Terry, what are you doing?"

"Nothing you don't already want from what it feels like."

I was a young guy dancing with a girl who was making sure every curve of her body was pressed into mine and she smelled great. Of course the blood was flowing and I'm pretty sure that was the intention but I was a happily married guy and regardless of the opportunities, and there were many, I had not strayed and wasn't going to.

"Terry, I'm a one woman man. If I wasn't I'm pretty sure you'd rock me into next week but that's June's job tonight." I smiled while saying it trying not to bum her out.

She just smiled right back and said "Oh, I'll get my chance someday." And we changed topics and finished the dance before I returned her to her escort, a guy named Tom.

June and a few of the others were still on the dance floor and as I scanned the floor I caught a quick glimpse of her dancing damn close to some guy I'd never seen before. He was whispering in her ear and she was just all smiles and giggles and then his hand dropped down onto her firm ass. For a moment I thought I would rise and break in on the dance but then I remembered Terry's hand on my dick a few minutes earlier. In hindsight I should have stepped in but it's all water under the bridge now.

Somebody ordered another round of drinks and June returned to the table with her new found dance partner. I played ignorant for the time being as she introduced him as Charlie, an old friend from high school until his family moved to Asheville. I didn't like him from the beginning even though where his hand had been earlier probably had a bit part in that assessment.

Maybe it was the cocky grin he had on his face when he looked at me with his hand on my wife's shoulder but when June saw my reaction to him she chilled a bit and the hand was removed. He stayed for a few minutes before moving on, giving June a quick peck on the cheek and shaking my hand. I felt like crushing the little cocksucker but I maintained my decorum.

On the way back to the house the conversation was expected.

"You let every man run his hand all over your ass when you dance with them, June?"

"No more than you having a big titted tart stroking you off through your pants." She replied.

That took me for a bit of a surprise. Terry had deftly maneuvered us to the far side of the room when she groped me. At the time I didn't think to see where June was.

"I didn't ask her to do that and I put a halt to it right then and there." I shot back.

"Well, neither did I, big boy. Are you jealous every time a man thinks he's got a shot at impossibility?" She grinned when she said it and broke the tension.

"Charlie has about as much chance of pulling my panties off as Terry did having you tap that little ass of hers tonight ... i.e. Nada."

She had a point. We were both hit with foul balls and we needed to call it a game. We did that later that night when we got home and I nailed a home run after a good enjoyable warmup.

Everything was fine for the next few months. We all got together pretty regular rotating driving duties amongst us. One particular Saturday night I was one of the designated sufferers and the women outnumbered the men by two to one in our group. Four of the guys had National Guard duty that weekend and couldn't make it.

June and a couple of the girls were pounding tequila shots and on a sure path to get hammered. The problem with June and tequila is a common one. She loses all her inhibitions and is insatiably horny to boot. In other words she was going to be a handful.

I did my best to keep up with her and dance as much as I could but the dance card was also being filled up with the additional girls flying solo that evening, including June's friend Terry. Between trying to keep an eye on June and the others and fending off Terry's brazen seduction my hands were full.

"She went outside with the other girls to get some air, Josh. She's in good hands" Terry whispered in my ear.

Nonetheless when the dance was over I walked back to the patio where smokers break out their habits and puff themselves silly. June and her friends were carrying on and laughing up a storm so I let them be and walked back to the table. Most of the party was out on the floor and I sat down with Terry and another girl they worked with. Both of them were getting seriously liquored up, the other girl was actually sloshed drunk.

"So, Josh, June tells us that you've got a great big dick." The sloshed drunken girl said.

All I could do was laugh out loud. She was slurring every word and Terry just had a stupid grin on her face. Then she said something inadvertently that brought everything back down to earth real quick. I was the only one sober at the table. Drunks think everything is funny as hell and God knows they don't know when to shut up.

"It's not fair she gets two big dicks and we don't get any."

They both thought that was funny as hell and giggled like little school girls until Terry realized the importance of what was actually said. I knew what was said as the words flowed out the little cunt's mouth. I ignored Terry.

"Who else has a dick that's big?" I asked

"Charlie's got a big dick and he knows how to use it... Oops ... I wasn't supposed to say that was I?" She slurred, hardly able to speak after Terry shot her the evil eye.

I think Terry even in her drunkenness understood the implications of what was said at the table. I rose up to go to the men's room as Terry tried to run interference.

"Not now, Terry." I said firmly.

Now the comments could have meant something other than what I was thinking and I didn't know. Two drunken women giggling over my wife having two big dicks; me and someone named Charlie. That could have meant she used to fuck him before we got together or it could have meant she had fucked him since we've been together or it could mean she was fucking him now. Of course it might have just been the ramblings of sloshed drunkenness.

It was getting close to closing and I needed to help corral the heifers so I rounded up the drunken party out on the patio not failing to miss the collection of horny young men thinking the picking might be ripe. The two of us designated drivers poured everybody into two cars and headed out. By the time June and I got home it was 2AM and I had to carry her like a sack to bed.

I cracked a beer and sat outside thinking of a plan. If she did something on a one- time thing I could probably get past it but if she was cuckolding me on a regular basis with some peckerwood she was fucking history. Funny thing is I know she loves me. That's why I could get past a one- time thing if she had too much to drink or something and didn't do it again but if it was the same Charlie as several months ago, it wasn't a damn mistake.

I had been doing overnights a couple nights every week for a while, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. June was off on Tuesdays with her current rotation so if she was fucking somebody with little chance of getting caught it would be on those Tuesdays.

Sometimes the cruel master of fate plays his hand just right. That's how it was with my marriage. I drove back to Waynesville the following Tuesday night instead of staying over in Sevierville, TN. I had a sack of BBQ and some drinks and I settled in to watch from the upper field across the road from our place. It was 11PM when I arrived and June's car was gone.

I had called her earlier in the evening like I usually do letting her know I'd be back late the following afternoon. She had plans to stay in and watch TV and maybe call her sister or something later before she went to bed. It looks like she ran to a pay phone to do it if she did.

So I just sat up there kicked back in the truck with the window down and the radio turned onto a ball game and down low, the interior lights turned off.

Two sets of headlights came down the road from the Waynesville direction around 12:30 and slowed down and turned into the yard. June's car stayed in its usual spot and the other car parked right behind her. I didn't have to guess who the peckerwood was; it was the dance floor nemesis Charlie himself. The fucking shoe shiner even had the audacity to wear a cowboy hat.