Chapter 1: She Sucks
I spend most of my time at the computer writing and to relax I'm a hobby gunsmith. As such, I spend a lot of time in my garage tinkering with different weapons. One afternoon I was working on a revolver that really resisted my attempts to reassemble it and I was using some pretty colorful language. I had just muttered, "Fuck it," and tossed the revolver down on the bench when I heard a definitely female cough.
Looking around I could see a distinctly female form outlined in the doorway. "Hi," she said, walking forward, "I hope I didn't come at a bad time."
"Uh, excuse me, I didn't know anyone was around."
She chuckled and said, "Oh, that's all right, I hear that word all the time. Even use it myself frequently." She stuck out her hand and said, "Hi, I'm Luanne."
I recognized her immediately because she lives two houses down from me and I had noticed her many times over the past several years. She had a fantastic figure and regularly washed her car and cut her grass wearing shorts and a halter top. Her breasts were nicely rounded and didn't jiggle at all nor did her ass. Some years ago I noticed her gaining weight and then protruding quite nicely in the front. Because she was pregnant I guessed her age to be in the thirties, but didn't really know.
As we shook hands I said, "Yes, I know. Well, I didn't know your name, but I've noticed you a few times."
She chuckled and pointed at my beer. "You got another of those?"
I said, "Sure, you want to come in or stay out here?"
"I'll come inside. It's a bit hot out here."
I led her into the kitchen, pulled out another beer, opened it, and handed it to her. "Thanks," she said, wiping the cold can across her forehead. Then she took a big swallow and said, "Whew, that tasted good. I can't drink at home and I miss it occasionally."
"Why can't you drink at home?"
She took another sip and then said, "Well, three kids around the house, plus I take care of my dad and uncle. You met them that time you helped with the mailbox."
"So, what's the big deal. Kids won't even notice if you don't make a big deal about it."
"It's my uncle, he likes his alcohol a bit too much and if I have any in the house he'll drink it."
"Ah," I said as I picked up my cigarettes, "I can understand that problem."
"Ooh, me too?" she said as she pointed at the pack.
I handed her a cigarette, lit it for her, and said, "Wow, my kind of girl. Smokes, drinks – what else do you do that I'd like?"
She chuckled a bit and moved over a little closer. "That kinda brings me around to why I came down here today," she said, "I have a problem that I'm hoping you can help me with. My boyfriend, Pete, and I get it on about once a week."
I laughed outright and said, "Once a week? Hell, if I were with you, you'd be getting it every single night. I can't imagine a body like yours not needing it more often."
