Firecracker Ch 02

"Dad, you have no idea how much you're embarrassin' me, embarrassin' your family."

"I think'a do, Sandra Jean. But it don't matter; it's none o'your business."

"Stacey and Erin're so ashamed you're living with their classmate they haven't been out with their friends since the 4th of July."

"They oughta spend a little more time at home. 'Specially since they're goin' off to college soon."

"Dammit, Dad, can ya only think 'bout yourself?"

"No, I can think about lotsa things. I think about you all plenty. I think about Frankie in Iraq."

"And what would he say about this?"

"Got an e-mail this mornin'. Said: 'Way to go, Grandpa. My whole platoon things you're th' bomb, 'cause you're still gettin' it done.'"

There was an icy pause. "You could have remarried," she said at last.

"To who? Nobody been intrested till now."

A loud gasp came over the line, followed by exasperation. "Surely you're not going to marry that poor kid?"

"She's not a kid, she's eighteen."

"You know what I mean. She could get. . .she could get. . ."

"No, she couldn't. She's on th' Pill."

"Dad," she wailed. "That's far more than I wanna know."

"Well, Sandra Jean, I'm sorry, but you asked."

Another icy pause. "Dad, you could get your heart broken so bad. What if she walks out?"

"Then I'm alone agin. Been there a lot, not afraid of it. I know she won't stay long. She jest needs time to get her act together. Not gettin' any dumb ideas 'bout marryin' her, or happily ever after, or any shit like that. I'm jest takin' it one day at a time."

"Dad, don't you care what people think? What people are saying at the Legion?"

"I don't take her to the Legion."

"They are talkin' about it."

"So what? I don't care. My friends're amazed, and Rosie Brown was so jealous last Friday night you coulda read a book from the glow."

"Rosie Brown would make you a good companion."

"She's a frigid bitch, Sandy, always has been. No fuckin' way."

"Language, Dad. Holy cow."

"Don't ya think I don't know those words."

"I know full well you do, anda don't want to hear it from you."

He sighed heavily. "Look, I'm fine, Kammie's fine, and it's a beautiful day. Chill."

"What if her parents find out?"

"Sandy, how dumb are you? Don't you know your girls' friends? Kammie's mom OD'd the day after Christmas last year, and if her dad showed up, I'd shoot the bastard for walkin' out on her when she was three. She was livin' in a trailer park next to Meth cookers by herself, sleepin' with a baseball bat, scared to death. She's better off with me."

"And you're a lot better off with her, I'm sure," she said with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"Duh. Twenty five years by myself is a bit much. Got some catchin' up to do, now my Jackson's got some action."

"Shit, Dad, you're so gross."

"Look, Sandy, just chill. I know: by the time she's old enough to appreciate me, I'll be dead. Don't matter. This'll be over someday and you'll be respectable again. Folks that don't talk to you now aren't yer friends. I gotta run."

"All right, Dad, but this isn't the end of it."

"I hope not, Sandra Jean, I hope not. Bye."

"Bye."

Keith Watson flipped his cell phone shut and settled down to watch the hummingbirds at his deck feeder. They were circling in the bright morning light, one valiantly trying to protect his ground against five others trying to sneak a nip of nectar. He was a weathered man with chiseled features of 57, hobbled by a wound received in the jungles of Vietnam, and living in a house on the shore of the Lake of the Ozarks. His long dark hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and his wrinkled face was clean shaven. A clean white t-shirt and jeans awkwardly draped his body, his almost useless feet in white socks. A walker sat next to his rocking chair to help him get around the house, but he sat watching _Mike and Mike in the Morning_ totally at peace with the universe.

A new cell phone tower stood on his lot, so between that rental income and his pension, he was comfortable again. He could afford Kammie at this time of his life, and she needed respite from a life of troubles, as far as he could tell.

The front door banged open and shut. The staccato burst of keys hitting the counter and light steps flitting down the hallway warned him he was not alone. Kammie Smith came into the kitchen part of the great room of the A frame house, her arms full of fresh produce. She was short and well proportioned: her long blond hair was gathered on top of her head, and she wore a blue halter top, white short shorts and sandals.

"Hi, studpuppy. How's it hangin'?" she intoned over the counter.

"Good, Sweetness" he replied over his shoulder. "How's the Farmer's market."

"Wonderful. I got some fresh sweet corn, tomatoes, green beans and taters."

"Great. Harry Kerns gave me some deer meat at the Legion last night, so we'll eat good tonight."

"You bet." She bounced around and sat on his lap, giving him a big, open mouthed kiss that lasted several seconds. "Ya miss me?"

He hugged her and smiled. "Yup."

"I think you're glad to see me. Somethin's stirrin' down there." She wiggled in encouragement and giggled at the response.

"Well, ya never leave me alone, so it's no wonder I can't get it down."

Standing, she flipped her halter top up over her head, revealing sun kissed breasts. "Can't leave'im standin' there all alone." She unzipped his fly and pulled his hardening cock out, stroking it to fullness. Her other hand undid her zipper and her shorts feel to the floor, revealing a huge wet spot.

She sat on his lap facing him, putting her legs through the arms of the rocker to straddle him, and worked her tanned bottom up and down to insinuate him to fully inside her. He grasped the arms of the chair and matched her rhythm as best he could, pecking her neck and licking her earlobes as they came in range.

Soon, she started shuddering, tossing her head back and forth as her climax built. Her curvy butt moved faster and faster, her hands on his arms, her legs gripping his, her delicate nipples turning into rubbery rocks. A gasp and a shriek, and her orgasm began; he leaned forward to probe her ear with his tongue, letting up only when she sagged into him, breathing heavily.

"Wish you wouldn't call me Studmuffin." he murmured into her ear.

"You haven't let me down yet. One way or another."

Her eyes focused again and she looked at him with dancing brown eyes. "I think we have some unfinished business here," she giggled.

"Yeah. Whatca gonna do 'bout it, Sweetness?"

"I think I'll come up with somethin'" She lifted herself off his hard cock, and knelt before him, stroking the wet shaft. Her tongue sought out his balls, swirling and circling while her hand responded to his accelerated respiration but going faster and faster. Keith held himself in control for two infinite minutes before he started jetting semen over her brown back and her platinum blond hair. Sitting up, she milked every drop from him, licking off the last flecks and taking his corona into her mouth to make him quiver uncontrollably.

They sat for several long moments, her head in his crotch, kissing his limp dick. He sat and gazed out the sliding glass door at the hummingbirds dance, barely taking it in. Finally he said: "You want something, don'cha?"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I wanna get some stuff from the trailer. My old home."

"Oh? Think that's a good idea?"

"I'm not goin' back there to live. It's a shitpile. It could burn for all I care. But I want some o' my stuff."

"How many trips we talkin'?"

"One. Just ten minutes. In and out. No problem."

"Well, I kin see a potential problem, but I kin get ready. Go 'head, get a shower and change and we'll git goin'."

"You don't think I want to go around with sperm in my hair all day?" she said as she got up and flounced away. He gave her delicately curved bottom a resounding smack before she got out of range, and got himself up, zipped up, found a clean shirt to put on, and moved to get his special equipment for the morning.

The sun danced between the green branches of the back road to the trailer park. It was mostly shaded, distant from any town, and heavily cratered, torturing the shock absorbers. Kammie's trailer park was surrounded by thick brush on three sides, and about twenty beat up trailers and campers languished in the brightening sunlight, satellite dishes sprouting like mushrooms from the roofs. Kammie directed Keith to her spot, and darted quickly into the door.

Keith looked around and wished he still smoked so he'd have something to do. A couple small dogs strolled by on unfathomable business, stopping to look Keith over in his truck, strolling across the sparse grass and finding a sunny basking spot. The blue glows told Keith at least three residents were watching _The Price is Right_.

Suddenly, a door banged open, and a huge man emerged holding a tire iron. His hair was disheveled, his face unshaven, body hair almost crawling out of his sleeveless t-shirt. A scowl dominated his face and he stumped over to Keith's window. Keith opened it an inch.

"Whatca doin' here?" he growled.

"Jus' helpin' a friend." Keith replied cooly.

"Ya got no friends here." He whacked his palm with the tire iron.

"Ten minutes from now I'll be gone forever."

"Yer goin' now or yer gone forever."

"No thanks, bro. Waitin' for a friend."

The man pulled back the tire iron, getting ready to make a swing when he suddenly noticed the barrel of a .45 pointing down his nose. The metal bar froze in mid-air.

"Where'd ya get that?" he mewed.

Keith looked at the grizzly man calmly. "I'm a sheriff's deputy, got a radio right here, and you've threatened me. I can shoot ya now if I want."

His eyes crossed as they looked down the barrel of the gun. After a couple of moments, he objected softly. "Ya can't do that."

'I was in 'Nam. You won't be th' first."

His eyes were sweating and his hands started to shake. "People'll see."

"Oh? You sure this won't be like Skidmore, where the town bully got kilt in broad daylight but nobody saw it?"

The tire iron dropped to the ground. Slowly, he took a step backward, and finding himself still alive, took another. The careful moves picked up pace until he was practically diving back into his trailer.

When the man disappeared, Kammie came out of her trailer with a suitcase, a cardboard box and a boombox. Putting the stuff in the back of the extended cab nervously, she slammed the door shut and got in. Keith started the engine, and leisurely put it in reverse.

"What happened with Glen?" she asked.

"Who?"

"The guy in the trailer. I thought he was gonna mess you up."

"I messed him up."

"Oh, I see now. I didn't know you had a gun."

"Nobody else needs to know."

"Check, honey. I'll even forget."

"Forget what? Wanna go on the water after lunch?"

"Yeah," she bubbled, her mood changing immediately. "Like to go skiin'."

"Okay. I'll get out the fast boat."

The ride back was uneventful, and Kammie fixed Keith a light lunch. She changed into a green bikini while he changed into shorts and another t-shirt. His motorized chair took him to the dock, and he got his boat ready. She helped him launch the boat, untying the ropes and jumping in as it floated away. The engine roared to life, and they sought open spaces where they could run fast and free.

The sun was high, but there was no other traffic on that part of the Lake on a mid week afternoon. Keith handled the boat with practiced ease from the captain's chair, and Kammie basked in the sun. They arrived at their launch point, and he prepared the lines while she put her skis on.

She undid her hair and took her top off before getting over the side. "Aren't you gonna put on a life vest?" he asked.

"Nope. I'm an excellent swimmer, can't sink."

"Don't like it, Sweetness."

"Stacey and Erin and me go skiing like this all the time."

"Topless?"

"No, without life vests. I'm a pro, don't worry."

He scratched his face then shrugged his shoudlers. "Awright, Sweetness, if you insist. Bet you'll live to regret it. When you get tired jest give me the high sign and I'll rescue you."

Kammie got settled into the water and braced herself; Keith throttled up and pulled away. She got up the first time and they ran long sweeping circuits on the water. The water was as smooth as a table top, and he reveled in the speed as he fly back and forth. Occasionally they passed a boat at the distance or a group picnicking on a dock. She waved brazenly as she went by, drawing waves and an occasional toot from a boat horn in reply.

Looking back, he saw the Water Patrol coming up behind him, so he cut his speed and let her down, swinging around to her position to meet the newcomer, putting the boat between her and the law. "What's up, studmuffin?" she said from the side of the boat.

"Water Patrol. Stay under the water."

"Won't I drown?"

"Not your head, dammit. Keep the rest of ya outta sight."

"Sure, honey."

The boat pulled alongside Keith's boat, and he smiled at the newcomer. His son-in-law, Mike Thomas, was the patrolman. "Hi, Dad. How's it going?"

"Great, Mike. Like a soda?"

"No thanks. Goin' a little fast for an old man today."

Keith shrugged his shoulders. "Nobody else's here, and you know I can handle my boats. The little girl jest wanted t'have sum fun."

"Yup. Heard complaints about a topless skiier from some folks over yonder. Know anything about it?"

"Don't see anybody topless around here, do you Sweetness?" he asked over the side.

"Nope," came the thin voice in the water.

"Hi, Kammie," Mike said. "Are you covered up?"

"Yup."

Keith turned around and they looked over the rail. "I can't see her tits, Mike, can you?"

"Nope. The water's a little murky today, Dad."

"Oh."

"You two better head home. Anybody else complains and I'm up shit's creek."

"Don't want that t' happen, Mike. Thanks."

"No problem." He looked over his shoulder and pointed up an arm of the lake across the way. "Everybody over there's weekenders, so ya might wanna ski over there next time."

"Thanks, Mike. My love to Sandy and the girls."

"Sure. Bye, Kammie."

"Bye."

"Bye."

The Water Patrol boat turned and sped off toward the dam; Keith waited while Kammie handed up her skis and got back onboard. He took off homeward while she stretched out in the sun, drying herself.

"Sweetness, ya might regret that later."

"It feels good, honey."

"All right, but I warned ya."

They got home to the slip and got the lines tied. He could feel the heat from her body as she sat on his lap, but said nothing. As the reached the deck, she got up and stood, stretching. He gave her a healthy smack across her shoulder and was rewarded with a high pitched scream. "I think ya got a sunburn, Sweetness."

"You're awful, jest awful." She looked down; her skin from the waist up was reddened. Gingerly, she touched her nipple and winced. "Damn."

"I told ya. Sun's more bright on the water, ya can burn pretty easy."

"Shit, forgot the sunblock today. Guess I got distracted," she said with a twinkle in her eye

"Well, I got some aloe in the bathroom cabinet. Let me lie down, lie down next to me and I'll help ya."

It took him several minutes to hobble with his walker across the great room and to the bedroom, where he fell down on the bed with a big groan. She brought him a glass of iced tea, and fetched the aloe vera gel. He patted the bed, inviting her to lie down, and he poured a large blob of gel into his palm. Laying on his side, he began to work the soothing balm into her skin, first on her back, slipping his hand under her bikini bottom to fondle her, then moving down her legs. She flipped and he started at the bottom, working on the front of her legs, her belly, and her chest. Puckishly, he flicked her burned nipple and she gave him a smack, feigning indignation. But he covered her red breasts with the ointment, working it in to her purring approval. Finished, he pulled down her bottom and worked a finger into her slick valley, stroking her lower bud with his thumb. She sighed and moaned, her body glistening with aloe, her tongue licking her lips. Soon he had her shuddering in a climax.

After she recovered, her hand slipped down and unzipped his shorts. He smiled and let his mind unlatch itself from thought as she pulled his pants down, her tongue seeking his wetness and her mouth drawing him in. The sun sank in the West, the hummingbirds flew their circles and the crickets began to sing as his soul took flight into ecstasy and he erupted in salty sweetness. She stayed until he was done, then came up and snuggled into his side.

She looked at him laying by her side. "I love you, Keith. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Thanks, Sweetness. You're the best thing that's been in my life for a coupla decades."

"I know it's tough for you, the way your family thinks."

"Hell, don't worry 'bout that. If Mike was pissed, he'd have written us up. Sandy'll get over it someday, and your friends'll be off to school soon. I gotcha now, and that's what matters."

"Yes, now's what matters."

They lay together looking into each other's eyes for a long moment. The breeze rattled a few loose shingles on the roof. He put his hand behind her head and murmured. "Someday you'll go have a life, and I'll be alright."

She stroked his cheek and kissed him. "I gotta life now, and I'm keepin' it.