I had always wanted to visit Thunder Bay. Nestled along the coast of California just below Santa Barbara, it offered magnificent views and heart stopping curves along the treacherous drive up the great Pacific Coast Highway.
Thunder Bay itself was really just a small community of artists and musicians that had settled there to escape the chaos of the big cities.
I nosed my Mustang convertible to the only curb in town and turned the engine off. It was only slighter hotter than I was. My long sandy hair was sticking to my sun burned cheeks, and my ass was hot and numb from sitting on it from the three hour drive up from Los Angeles.
I was hotter than a fresh fucked fox in a forest fire and desperate for something cold to drink. My eyes panned Main Street and the first thing that struck me was the lack of traffic. True, I was slightly off the beaten path, but still I figured there'd be some sign of life, other than that old tractor pulling a hay wagon.
There were a few cars nosed into the curb down the block, so I brushed my hair back with my fingers, buttoned a couple of buttons on my denim shirt, and hopped out over the door. I brushed the peanut shells from my jeans and headed on down to see what was going on where those cars were parked.
'Wild Bill's' flashed in neon behind darkened windows. Hmm. My kind of place. I glanced at the curb and noticed these weren't your average small town rust buckets. Not unless you consider exotic sports cars rust buckets. A green Lotus, a black Ferrari, a really cool yellow Corvette, and an assortment of custom hot rods all gleaming in the warm California sun.
I stepped through the big leather door and stopped for a few seconds to let my eyes adjust. The bar was on the left and lined with what looked like cheerleaders. I grinned at my good fortune. My grin faded quickly when I noticed about a half dozen guys the size of Volkswagens staring at me. Clearly, none of these cats would fit in any car I saw outside. And those hats. Big, sweaty straw hats that probably didn't look much better new, and these were all definitely not new.
There were a few tables along the wall on the right under a huge mirror which made Wild Bills look lots bigger than it really was. The tables were occupied with the usual blend of lovers and losers, and they were all staring at me, too.
After taking a few paces in , I glanced at the bartender, a hot little number herself and ordered a cold one by pointing my finger at the Bud she had in her hand. I was suddenly in a hurry. I needed to pee like a race horse. The mens room was straight ahead in the back. Next to it was a pinball machine that was almost as loud as the jukebox being abused by the hips of a rather large, but shapely brunette. The brunette was as out of place as I was judging by her clothes. I decided she would be my target once I emptied my bladder. I figured I was too old for cheerleaders and much too pretty to have my head bashed in by country Joe and his shit kicking buddies.
I shoved the mens room door open as I un-zipped my jeans, a feat most men are familiar with. I opened a stall and dragged my cock out and started urinating to the music that screamed in under the door. I had no idea what a "Badonkadonk" was, but it was damn catchy. I found myself writing "pussy' with my stream of gold and laughed out loud at how weird that was. As I was giving my cock its customary slaps for not pissing on my sandals, and to make sure I didn't dribble in my jeans, I zipped up about the same time I smelled smoke. I wasn't smoking and heard no one come in.
Times like this give a wise man reason to pause. What was on the other side of the stall? I wondered if I had pissed one of the "good ole boys" off merely by invading their space. I've done it before, so it seemed logical. I made both hands into a fist a few times to get my adrenaline going and them ready to deliver some crushing blows before running for my life.
I was as prepared as I was going to be, so I kicked the stall door open, jumped out and firmly planted my feet with both hands curled into a fist and stood there.
The buxom brunette that had been slamming the pin ball machine smiled as smoke seeped from her crimson lips and said, "Oh, honey...I'm not a fighter." Then continued, "Doesn't look like you're much of one, either!"
I uncurled my hands and grinned sheepishly.
She slid the rusty bolt on the door, presumably locking it from intruders, stepped to me and brushed my hair from my forehead with her cigarette hand.
"But, you're pretty damn cute."
The next thing I knew she was cruising her smoky lips over mine. I loved the smell and taste of her lips. They were warm, creamy and deliciously wet. My cock sprang to life, urging itself to my zipper. I sensed her parting her lips and took full advantage. My tongue darted in and began flicking hers. The taste and texture of her tongue was driving me wild.
I felt my belt being un-buckled and my zipper being yanked down, releasing my anxious cock to some very warm hands. My jeans fell to my sandals as she moaned in my mouth. I reached under her abundant ass and hoisted her up on the counter, never breaking from the delicious smoky kiss.
She squirmed on the bar as she hiked her skirt up to her waist, still possessing my tongue. I pulled from the kiss, glancing down as she parted her legs and noticed she was wearing very expensive red panties.
My target dragged heavily on her cigarette, then flipped it to the sink and said, "Just rip them off sugar!" with a huge volume of smoke pouring from her nostrils.
I slid my thumbs in the sides of the waistband and tore them from her like they were on fire!
Her hands guided my now stiff prick to her wet pussy as she scooted closer, wrapping her long legs around me. I felt her cross her ankles and the spike from her boots jabbed my ass. My first thrust was met with hers and it was on!
"That's it baby. Fuck that pussy. Fuck it like you mean it!"
As a man that likes to be in charge, it suddenly occurred to me that somewhere between the hoisting and the ceremonial ripping of her nifty knickers, the control had shifted dramatically. I pushed harder and harder, practically jumping out of my Birkenstocks with reckless abandon.
She then tossed her long dark hair over one shoulder and said, "Bite my neck. Hurt me!"
Like I said, my control had vanished and I just knew I had to satisfy this bitch or she'd kick my ass. The good ole boys outside and the cheerleaders had broken into song, accompanying Toby Keith as he belted out, "I Love This Bar".
I opened my mouth and clamped down on her neck like a vampire. My cock twitched as she moaned, "Oh fuck yeah." Then grabbed my chin with one hand and licked my lips as she leaned back on her other hand and bucked against me like a bull rider on steroids.
I felt the spike from her heels digging in my ass. The pain was bearable, but really turned me on. I rammed my cock in and out hard and fast as my lovers pussy muscles clamped tight around my shaft. She was having a king size orgasm as evidenced by the volume of fluids that escaped from her farting pussy.
The familiar tingling chased up my legs as my own orgasm shot deep inside her. We didn't even slow down. We just kept fucking as hard as we could with her pussy shooting cum all over me with each stroke. Combined with the intense kissing and licking, this fuck climbed quickly up my top ten list.
Suddenly, and without warning, number ten on the list went limp and passed out! I managed to grab her head before it smashed into the giant mirror behind her. Her legs released my ass and fell straight down. The arms that had been hooked around my neck slipped down to the counter. The red lips that I couldn't get enough of now had spittle dripping from them. That long, luxurious hair was now plastered to her cheeks and chin.
I pulled back and dragged my jeans up, tucked my shirt back in, and stood and stared.
Now, what should I do? Had anyone seen her come in here? What if she actually belonged to one of those hats? I shuddered as I looked around for a way out.
Then I saw it. It
was a small window just over the back of the toilet in the stall that had been home about twenty minutes ago. I stepped to the rose lipped maiden and wiped the drool from her lips, fixed her hair, and laid her gently across the counter. Damn, she was a big woman, and looked even bigger stretched out over the counter.
I saw her chest heaving and knew she was going to be alright, so I bent over and kissed her softly before heading for the escape hatch.
The window was wide but not very tall, and a bit difficult to crawl through, but I managed to ease out onto the gravel in the rear parking lot. I stood and brushed the debris from my jeans and headed down the alley en route to my Mustang.
The sun was now setting over the horizon and I grinned that this little episode had taken me into dusk. I made the turn around the building, pausing a few times to kick the gravel from my sandals, and stepped back onto the sidewalk on Main Street. I stopped and lit a cigarette, and looked up and down the street for any straw hats. Once satisfied that the coast was clear, I flipped my cigarette and scampered towards my trusty Mustang parked just a few doors down from Wild Bills.
I stopped in my tracks when I saw her sitting in the passenger seat.
There she was. It was my love match...or number ten, just sitting there smoking and smiling.
"Going somewhere sugar?"
I swallowed hard and replied, "Thought I'd get on down the road. You okay?"
With a grin and a nod, she answered, "Never better lover," then opened the door and walked around the back of my car and stepped to me, draping her arms over my shoulders.
Warm smoke drifted from her glossy lips as she asked,"What's down the road baby?"
I had to taste them once more. Our lips pressed together a few times, making sticky sounds after each kiss. Lip gloss does that.
"Oh, I don't know. Something...nothing. Doesn't matter."
The edges of her red lips curled as she answered, "I know something down the road. About forty minutes north," then tossed her dark hair over one shoulder.
Well, fuck. She was gorgeous, sexy, clearly looser than Pedros goat, and mysterious enough to make me take the bait.
"Yeah? What's that?" I asked with the sexiest grin I could muster.
Once again, she brushed my hair from my forehead and said,"My ranch. Want to see it? I'd like that."
This was an easy one.
I mean, who wouldn't want to go another round with a bombshell like her?
She kissed me hard then asked, "What's your name lover?"
Another easy one. "Garrett. Garrett Carr. Yours?"
"Billie Jean. They call me Wild Bill."
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