The Ride Home

What had started as a really crappy evening had gotten a lot better. Harley had a fight with her boyfriend and this one was doozy. If she thought her car would make it she'd already be on her way home to Tennessee from Ohio instead of sitting on a barstool, smoking, drinking a cutting up with two ladies she'd just met.

Her new friend Carole was an older woman, who said she was 55 and didn't look a day over 39. She was a short redhead in blue jean mini skirt, tight read tea shirt that showed off her hot body and boots with easily 5-inch heels.

She was a take charge kind of lady.

Her friend Marcie was taller, thinner, younger and another redhead. The only thing not thin about her were her breasts. They were huge, obviously man made but beautiful on her 5'9" frame. She was in black croptop, unbuttoned to expose a red tube top that all one could say about it was it met the standards of law, but not decency. Through in some bright red short shorts that matched her tube top and some deerskin boots whose heels matched Carole's in height and you had the package.

She too seemed very take charge to Harley, with her boots taking her over 6' and a brassy attitude, except when it came to Carole. If Carole said 'jump' then Marcie was already three feet off the ground.

Harley was no slouch herself. A twenty-nine-year old country girl from Dale Hollow, Tennessee. She was about 5'4" with a figure to die for. A perfect 36-24-35. And to go with that, a sexy southern drawl, naturally blonde hair, pouty lips and eyes that slanted in an almost Asian fashion, but on Harley just said slutty.

And a bit of a slut she was. Until she'd landed with Stan she had slept her way through most of the bars in the Dale Hollow resort area. She liked it dirty, nasty, filthy but always played the choir girl in public. It was like she was a present you only got to unwrap behind closed doors.

Harley's fight with her boyfriend was nothing new. She missed her home, but when he couldn't find any work down in Dale Hollow, she consented to move to his hometown in Alexander, Ohio.

She hated it there. She didn't like the people there, missed her friends, got pulled over twice for driving without a license and was generally miserable. Stan did what he could to make her happy, including fucking her roughly morning and night, but she just wasn't happy, and it spilled over into everything she did.

This wasn't the first time she wanted to go home. Back when the car was running better she had taken off on her own and stayed two weeks back home in Tennessee. Stan came down and finally talked her into going back.

The second time the car was starting to have problems with the motor just cutting out, and so she'd had her friend Becky come get her. She supposed she'd have to do that again if she couldn't stomach staying. She'd texted Stan that she was already on her way back, even though she was only sitting 10 miles from the rental house they shared. All her stuff was in the trunk of her car and she was ready to go... if she really wanted to.

She had thought she was just going to have a few drinks, call Becky, and then get a cheap motel room to sleep off the drink until Becky got here sometime the next day, but then Carole and Marcie showed up.

They'd sat around the corner of the bar from where Harley sat. She caught them looking at her and talking to the bartender, and frankly she was getting a little pissed. It's not they could say anything about Harley's looks or the way she was dressed.

Frankly, Harley thought she looked kind of hot in tight jean miniskirt and snug t-shirt.

The bar wasn't fancy. Just another hole-in-the-wall with a band coming on later, people shooting pool and darts, and smelled like people still smoked in it.

She was dressed just fine for this place.

So fine that while she was concentrating on the two women, a man came right up over her shoulder, wrapped his arms around her and said, "Hello blondie."

She cycled through her brain but had no recall of this person. 'Maybe a friend of Stan's she thought?'

But nothing came to mind as he slurred, "maybe you and me should go out and take a look at my new truck. Gotta camper shell on the back that's big enough for us to get to know each other in."

His breath stank of whiskey and as she started to turn to him on of his hands grabbed her right titty... HARD! All she got out was a groan.

"Don't fuck with me right now little lady... or better yet, come fuck with me," the drunk growled. I ain't in the mood for any sass."

Before she could even think of what to do or say next she felt the guy let go of her as he groaned and a feminine voice said, "if you value them, step back or I'll rip them off and feed them too you."

Harley turned and saw a redhead, who would later be introduced as Marcie, gritting her teeth and growling the words at the molester. She dropped her eyes and saw a hand coming from behind and between his legs, reaching up his right shorts leg and obviously having a hold of one or more of his balls.

Then the second redhead stepped between Harley and drunk and stared at him.

He got a whole different look on his face. One of submissive contrition. "Oh god, I didn't know she was a friend of yours Red. I'm so goddamned sorry," he pleaded. "I'm so, so goddamned sorry."

"Too fucking bad Mike," barked the 'Red'! "I've told you before that rough stuff is only practiced on the willing in my place. You're done, out, gone for the rest of the month!"

He didn't even try to plead his case. He knew he had lost when he saw Red. It was just a matter of formalities.

Marcie slowly released his balls and Mike breathed a sigh of relief. She took him casually by the arm and headed for the back door with him.

Harley was too busy staring at 'Red', who had just turned to face her, to notice Marcie slipping a $100 dollar bill to Mike as he went out the door and a mouthed 'thank you' from the redhead.

"People around here call me 'Red', but to you, I'm Carole," said the stunning older woman as she took Harley's hand.

Harley stammered out something that might have been her name and Carole was already spinning her back to the bar on her stool and cooing comforting sounds with her arm around the blonde's shoulders.

"You'll be fine now," said Carole. "I manage this place for my owner and now that everyone sees your my friend, no one will ever bother you in here again."

Harley hadn't missed the 'my owner' but figured it was just Carole being 'possessive' of her boss. Nothing weird.

"Ted," she called to the bartender. "She drinks free in here from now until I tell you different. She is to have every courtesy of the house."

Ted nodded affirmatively and asked Harley, "refill for you miss?"

Before Harley could think of what she wanted, Carole had already ordered her a shot of tequila and a Long Island Iced Tea.

"This is Ted's specialty and when it's made top shelf, it's amazing," said the redhead.

Marcie came back to the bar and practically slithered onto the barstool to Harley's left. Carol hopped up on the one to her right. Marcie was introduced and evening commenced. It was only 9pm.

Harley told them about her fights with Stan and her longing for home, and both women chimed in with the idea that she just needed some good friends in Alexander and her whole perspective would change. And more, they were more than happy to be those friends as they say Harley as just a younger version of themselves.

The drinks were flowing, though Carole and Marcie only joined her directly for the shots, which seemed to come with every new round. They each sipped at straight bourbon by the glass, but for all the shots and bourbon they didn't seem to get as ripped as Harley.

They talked men, dicks, vibrators, where they'd had hot sex, where they'd had lousy sex. Carole and Marcie said they'd each actually had sex in this very bar, but not since they'd taken over the management of the place. Carole had been in charge for years now, but Marcie only joined as the assistant manager and talent scout.

"Talent scout," questioned Harley? "In a bar? What do you look for?"

"Well, I book the entertainment and it's my job to find the right mix of interviewees for Carole to go through when we need servers, cooks, bartenders and bussers," Marcie told her.

It was then that Harley really noticed the staff for the first time. Ted, the bartender, was the only guy she'd seen. There were two women working behind the bar as well, and through the window behind the bar she could see that the two cooks were women. All the servers she could see were women, and the loan busser on floor was a tiny little Asian girl, who looked to be no bigger than 4'6".

The one thing that all the women had in common was their beauty. They were all knockouts of varying sizes and description, from the tiny Asian girl to the head cook, who looked to be taller than 6' and was visibly well muscled.

Ted, the exception to every rule, was a somewhat unattractive man, in a grizzled, rough kinda away, who had the friendliest smile and kind voice whenever they spoke.

"He sings like an angel too," Carole whispered in one ear as Harley realized she was staring at Ted.

"And hung like donkey," added Marcie with mischievous grin, and the redheads laughed as I leaned over the bar to see if I could get a look at Ted's package.

"If you want to see it we can surely arrange it," said Marcie, who nodded at Carole.

"Most definitely," said Carole. "I bet he'd love a night with you."

"No," said a blushing Harley. "I appreciate it but that's a complication I don't need right now," she said sheepishly, "but maybe some other time...," she finished, looking at her feet on the barstool, then looking up with a happy grin on her face.

"It's good to see you smile," said Carole. "All you needed was some girlfriends and a girl's night to put you right as rain."

And Harley knew that they were right. Hanging with the girls seemed to change everything for her. Things didn't look so bad and she was just plain happy to be there with her new friends.