County line, p.1
A Seemly Sex Story
This story, like all Seemly Sex Stories, is pure fiction, an imaginary concoction of the seemly but mischievous mind of BobbyB. Any resemblance to any actual person or situation is completely coincidental.
Copyright 2017 seemlybobbyb
A familiar voice came over the phone when Slim answered it.
"Slim? This is Mick over at The Edge Bar and Lounge."
"Hey, Mick! What's up?"
"Last night when you and Lucy were in here for supper didn't you say you were going up to the city tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Sure am. My folks moved to the city when Dad retired, you know. And Mom won't let Dad climb ladders anymore. She says he's too old and unsteady on his legs. So I'm going to run up and do some chores he can't. Clean the gutters and such. You want to go along and help?"
"Not me! I'm not looking for more work. But let me ask you: Are you taking Lucy and the kids?"
"Oh no. I'm just running up for the day. Not worth keeping the kids out of school, and Lucy isn't all that anxious to spend the day talking to her mother-in-law. You're married too, so I'm sure you understand that. But why'd you ask?"
"Well, I want to ask a favor of you, but if you were taking Lucy I wouldn't."
"That sounds weird. What's Lucy got to do with it? You have some secret sexy young girlfriend none of us know about you want me to smuggle out of town? Or into town?"
"Don't I wish! But if I had a girlfriend like that do you think I'd want her to leave town? And if I was bringing one into town I sure as hell wouldn't trust her with a horny devil like you."
"Thanks for the compliment, Mick. But she'd be safe. I'm too afraid of Lucy to try to take advantage of something like that."
"As a married man, I understand that too." Mick continued with a chuckle. "But what I called about is to ask you to pick up some guy in the city and bring him here on your way back to town."
"Sure, I can do that. But what difference would it make if Lucy was with me?"
"Slim, this guy's one of the most obnoxious, foulmouthed SOBs I've ever met. I wouldn't want him around my wife for five minutes let alone the three hour drive back from the city. So if Lucy was along I wouldn't even let you give him a lift. And I've got to be honest with you. You won't be offended or insulted by his obscene vulgarity like Lucy would, but he isn't enjoyable company. I've been a bouncer or bar manager most of my life, so I've got lots of experience with assholes like him. But this guy says such disgusting things about every woman he sees that sometimes I want to bust him right in the mouth."
"What are you doing with such a shithead? If he's that obnoxious, why don't you just avoid him?"
"If it was only me I would. But he's a consultant Joe wants to hire, and Joe's the owner, so I've got to go along."
"What's he consult about?"
"Rock concerts. Joe thinks Rock concerts can flood this place with people from all over both counties, so he wants to have a series of them in our dance hall next summer. And this guy is the cheapest consultant Joe has been able to find who can handle the whole deal, hire and schedule the acts, run the advertising, bring in the sound equipment, handle the music royalty payments, and all that. The guy has to come look over our place, but he wants a dollar a mile each way to drive himself. That will add more than three hundred dollars to his tab. Joe has to go to the city on other business sometime in the next couple days, so he can take the guy back. But neither of us can spare the time right now for an extra trip to pick him up."
"Well I'll bring him for you, Mick. No problem. Remember, I did a hitch in the Marines after high school. This guy sounds like a sergeant I had. If I could put up with that bastard for a couple years I should be able to take your consultant for an hour or two."
So early the next morning Slim got up, ate the breakfast Lucy prepared, solemnly promised the kids he would not forget to bring the cake their grandmother was baking for them, kissed Lucy, got in his car and drove the three hour drive to the city.
When he got there he borrowed a long ladder from his folks' neighbor and, using it, cleaned the gutters on their house. Then on his mother's stepstool he washed the outsides of their windows. Next he went to the hardware store with his dad and got a couple LED light bulbs with which he replaced the bulbs in the stairways to their upstairs and basement. He had to balance on the stepstool to do it, and he didn't want his dad to have to try that semi-acrobatic stunt when the old incandescent bulbs burned out. LED bulbs are supposed to be good for a decade, so they should keep his folks' stairways securely lit. Finally, though it was lunchtime, his mother asked him to clean the areas over her kitchen cabinets.
When these chores were done Slim called the consultant he had agreed to take back to The Edge Bar and Lounge for Mick. He explained that he was running late but would pick up the guy in an hour or so, after finishing his delayed lunch.
His mom then fixed a belated lunch for him and his dad. After lunch she put the treat she had baked for her grandkids in a metal cake carrier. With several long wooden cocktail toothpicks she secured it so it couldn't slide around inside the container. Then Slim carefully secured the container itself on the floor of the back seat of his car so it also couldn't slide around. All of these precautions were necessary because the kids would have a fit if he didn't get their cake home unharmed. Then he squeezed his dad's shoulder and hand, hugged and received a kiss from his mom, got in his car and drove to where he was to pick up Mick's consultant.
When they introduced themselves the consultant gave his name as Hot Shot. That was an ominous sign that the guy was going to be exactly the kind of jerk Mick had said he is. And it didn't take more than a minute after their trip began for Hot Shot to prove the point.
Slim had to stop at a red light, and a young woman pedestrian crossed the street in front of them. To Slim she was just an ordinary young woman, suitably dressed and minding her own business in a completely ordinary and proper way. But to Hot Shot she was a conspicuous sexual slut. He called Slim's attention to her, then began a long, obscene speculation about the appearance and nature of her breasts and genitalia and the abnormal way he was sure she employed them in habitual promiscuous sex. That was only the beginning. Every woman they passed on their drive out of town was similarly described.
Slim couldn't wait to get on the highway where there would be no more female pedestrians to trigger this obnoxious crap. But that didn't help, because when they reached the highway Hot Shot just turned his obscene discourse to descriptions of his claimed unlimited sexual conquests. He braggingly and continuously told of the many sexual exploits he claimed to have had with every woman he met, sexual exploits particularly remarkable for their disgusting vile abnormality.
Slim never would have thought it possible, but this Hot Shot guy made his old Marine sergeant seem like a religious retreat leader by comparison. They weren't fifteen minutes into the trip before Slim began to imagine doing the kind of things to this guy the Marines had taught him to do on bayonet dummies. Hot Shot is just that obnoxious and more.
To try to shorten the trip Slim allowed his speed to creep up well above the speed limit. He didn't know how, but maybe if a highway patrol stopped him he could figure out some way to pawn this foulmouthed bastard off on the cop. But with bad luck which at any other time he would have considered great good luck, he encountered no highway patrol.
By the time they were approaching town Slim couldn't think of anything but confronting Mick about this consultant-hauling favor. He intended to first thank him for protecting Lucy from Hot Shot. Then, for exposing Slim himself to the bastard, Slim intended to cuss Mick
The Edge Bar and Lounge is on the edge of town. That's one of the reasons why it's called The Edge. So it was the first place they reached when they got to town. As they were pulling into the parking lot in front of it an attractive woman dressed in a waitress uniform was entering it. Slim knows and recognized her. But since she was already inside before he got parked, they didn't greet each other. However, the sight of her triggered another of Hot Shot's vile vulgar diatribes.
That was too much! Slim had listened to this guy's crap for hours, but he had taken all he was willing to take. He knows this woman and her husband. She is a decent person whom he likes and respects, and Hot Shot's obscene description of her was particularly inappropriate and objectionable. The foulmouthed consultant was already out of the car or Slim would have responded to his first impulse and punched the son-of-a-bitch right in the mouth. But a suitable alternative presented itself.
From the other side of the car Hot Shot continued his sick speculation that this waitress probably screwed every guy in town, although the verb he used wasn't screw. The obscene degenerate was saying the same obscene things which he had said about every woman they had seen. But this time it not only disgusted Slim, it gave him an idea.
"You've got that right, Hot Shot. It's common knowledge that she has sex with every man who lives between here and the county line."
"Well, then she'll be an easy make for me." Hot Shot confidently concluded.
"Could be." Slim answered, continuing his devious setup. "Well, I've got to be getting home. Mick will be behind the bar, so just go on in. And that waitress is probably everything you said she is. So have some fun and get it on with her."
"You can bet I will!" Hot Shot confidently answered.
With that Slim drove off, struggling successfully, but just barely, to keep from conspicuously laughing. And Hot Shot, with no inkling of how he had been setup for a mighty fall, confidently went into The Edge.
As Slim had thought, Mick was behind the bar. He acknowledged Hot Shot's arrival and said he'd call Joe, who was at home. While the consultant waited Mick called his boss on a phone behind the bar.
"He's eating his supper." Mick announced. "But he said he'd hurry it up and get over here as quick as he can. He suggested you have something to eat while you're waiting."
Hot Shot agreed, so Mick took him to a table then called over the only waitress already on duty. She was the very woman Hot Shot had seen entering The Lounge a minute or two earlier, the woman whom Slim told him has sex with every man who lives between there and the county line. To keep the consultant company till Joe arrived Mick also sat at the table. The waitress came over with a menu and took Hot Shot's order for a hamburger and a beer, a big schooner of beer.
Hot Shot ogled her thoroughly while ordering, but she took no notice. Looking, she has long since accepted, is something that comes with the territory of being a waitress in a bar and lounge, so she is accustomed to ignoring it. She asked if he'd like his beer immediately or prefer to wait and get it when his hamburger was ready, and Hot Shot made the latter choice.
When the waitress left to fill his order Hot Shot started to ask Mick about her, but the barman wasn't about to let this guy start on his obscene speculations about women, and especially he wasn't willing to hear such crap about his waitresses. So Mick ignored Hot Shot's question and moved the conversation to the matter for which the consultant was at The Edge Bar and Lounge, the Rock concerts. Before long someone at the bar wanted another drink, so Mick left Hot Shot's table and went to the bar to fill the order.
As Mick was returning behind the bar the waitress came out of the kitchen with Hot Shot's hamburger on a small tray. She headed directly to the bar to get the schooner of beer accompanying the hamburger. Mick drew it before starting the more involved process of mixing the customer's Margarita. Then as Mick turned to the back bar for the tequila, the waitress carried the tray to the table where Hot Shot was waiting. She put the hamburger down in front of him, and as she grabbed the schooner of beer to place it on the table beside the sandwich Hot Shot reached his hand up under her dress between her legs, and made a very direct and very obscene invitation for her to join him in a sexual encounter.
Instead of putting the schooner down on the table the waitress threw the beer in Hot Shot's face. He pushed back from the table and stood up, trying to escape drowning. But he just gave her a bigger target. She threw the empty schooner at his midsection. Actually she was aiming at the organs he had just proposed sharing with her, and she may have scored a bull's-eye for Hot Shot doubled over, moaning in pain. Bent over like that he presented another target. She took the tray she had carried his order on and, with both arms, she smashed it over his head with every ounce of strength she could muster. It shattered. Then she stalked off to the kitchen.
Hot Shot probably thought her response was very unfortunate for him. But in fact, at that moment he was the luckiest man in the county. He was lucky because his order was only a hamburger and beer. For such light orders waitresses at The Edge use trays made of veneers of bamboo. They weigh only a couple ounces, and are flimsy, but much easier to handle than the heavy metal trays the waitresses use for bigger orders. The shattered bamboo tray gave Hot Shot a severe headache which would last a day or two. But had he ordered a full meal for which the waitress had used one of The Edge's regular metal trays, the two arm blow she delivered might have killed him.
Mick came out from behind the bar in a fury. He had seen exactly how Hot Shot had provoked his waitress, and his first reaction as a man who has long worked as a bar manager and bouncer was to throw the son-of-a-bitch out. But as he approached the scene of the attack he was compelled to remember that this SOB was a consultant whom Joe, his boss, had hired, so he couldn't bounce him. When Mick got to his table the attacked man started to rant.
"Call the cops! That bitch assaulted me! I'm going to bring charges against her."
"I don't think so!" Mick sarcastically and angrily announced.
"Oh yeah? Why not?"
"For two reasons, Shithead. First: I saw what you did to trigger her attack, and I'll bear witness that you obscenely provoked her and deserved every damn thing you got. I'll gladly so testify in any court of law. The second reason is that we don't have cops in this small town. But we do have a deputy sheriff. And it just so happens that our deputy sheriff is the husband of the decent woman you obscenely insulted."
For a while Hot Shot just stared at Mick, wide eyed and open mouthed. Then it dawned on him that he had been setup … and had been had.
"That friend of yours who brought me here, that Slim son-of-a-bitch! He set me up. Damn him! And damn you for having him bring me here!"
"What?" Mick asked in genuine confusion. "Slim set you up? How?"
"He told me that waitress is an easy make. He said she screws every man who lives between here and the county line. The bastard lied to me!"
Mick had to bite his lips to keep from roaring with laughter. It took a while, but finally he got enough control of his mirth to talk.
"Well, Slim may have set you up, but he didn't lie to you. She does sleep with every man who lives between here and the county line."
"Then why did a slut who openly sleeps around attack me?" Hot Shot demanded.
"Well, you see, Hot Shot, it's like this." Mick began to explain with obvious relish. "There's a house right across the road from us, right across the road from the parking lot out front. And about ten yards on the far side of that house is the county line. In fact, we’re called The Edge Lounge because we're located at the edge of town and the edge of the county. Now that house belongs to our deputy sheriff, so he's the only man who lives between here and the county line. And since he's our waitress's husband, everybody knows she has sex with him!"
County Line by Michael Conard / Romance & Love have rating 2.5 out of 5 / Based on33 votes