Giggling Into the Pillow (25 page)
Read Giggling Into the Pillow Online
Authors: Chris Bridges
Tags: #comedy, #humor, #sexy, #stories, #essays, #sexy stories, #erotica anthology, #silly
Anyway, when Fat Jimmy bust in the room
holdin’ a new tape over his head like a bowlin’ trophy, we was
ready to elect him Mayor and two council seats besides. Everybody
slapped him on the back like he was a returnin’ astronaut, and then
they grabbed a drink and a seat around the TV while he did the
honors. It was just’ like meetin’ a new pretty girl, only without
all the datin’ and food and stuff. A couple of the fellas even sat
up straighter and ran their hands through their hair. The movie
started, the credits rolled, and then all that hootin’ and
a’hollerin’ that we had ready to go just stopped up in our throats
because we was all too surprised to see that the girl on this tape
was a real girl. I mean, those other’n were real girls too, but
they was all made up and spiffed up and painted up and looked more
like showfolk than anything else. Watching them commingle was
entertainment, pure and simple. But this here was more like
peeping, like watchin’ neighbors through their winders, and it was
a whole different experience I can tell you. Apart from Bo Wilson
I’m pretty sure none of us ever did that before, peeped I mean, and
he swears he stopped it cold last Palm Sunday. We didn’t yell once
during the entire production, we just watched it right through like
little kids at the picture show and then we sat there,
poleaxed.
Fat Jimmy, he sez “Good God A’mighty,” and
he picked up the video box to look at it. It said something like
“Amateur Sex Slutz” on it, with a “z” for the “s” so’s you’d know
it was real uptown, and the pictures on the box didn’t do justice
to what we had just seen.
Now I cain’t rightly speak for everyone, but
this was the first ay-dult movie I’d ever seen that made me feel
dirty, or got a rise out of my britches either, and friend, I
wasn’t too sure yet what I thought about that. From the looks of
the other men in the room I wasn’t alone, and all I could think of
was that I was powerful glad I was married and had a chance to put
this somewheres tonight, ‘cause otherwise there wouldn’t be a safe
knothole for twenty miles around. I felt sorry for some of the
fellers, I did, but it had just become every man for hisself and I
had somewheres I needed to be and so I left without even grabbing
my hat.
My wife Junie was used to me stumbling home
after a lodge meetin’ but I do think she was surprised at what I
brung home with me, and we put it to good use as soon as we could
get most of the way upstairs. I fell asleep tired and happy and
didn’t think much about the tape until a few days later when Henry
Vanderkin run me down outside Hattie’s Diner.
timing belt looked at and thought I’d swing by Hattie’s for a slice
of one o’ her famous blueberry pies, when Henry calls out to me
from down the street. Now Henry’s all right if you don’t mind him.
He’s a mountain boy seven generations back, good-natured in an
exasperatin’ sort of way, but ever since he got cable and the
intranet he’s had wild ideas about how to do things. Cain’t rightly
say he’s wrong, neither, but he does wear on a body sometimes. He
catches up to me and he sez, “Ollie, can I talk to you a
minute?”
I told him I didn’t mind as long as he
didn’t mind sharing my attention with a pie, and that sounded right
good to him. We went into Hattie’s and bless her, she had pie
waiting for both of us and with ice cream on the tops of each one
without us even asking for it. I swear, if I ever get to Heaven and
Hattie ain’t there, I’m gone turn right around and walk out and
take my business elsewhere. We tucked into that pie like there was
money at the bottom, and after things settled a bit Henry come out
with his proposition.
Henry sez, “You remember that tape we
watched?” I allowed as how I did. He sez, “It strike you any
different from them others we got?” I allowed as how it had. He
just smiled and told me that it had burned a hole in everbody
else’s britches too, and that in the three days since its debut
that video had been run about thirty times and that some of the
fellas without wives or girlfriends was watching it and lockin’ the
door, which had always been against lodge rules on account o’ we
don’t want to do any more floor-mopping than was absolutely
necessary.
I sez, “It sounds like that tape’s gone get
wore out faster than Bo Wilson’s zipper, although that might be a
close race, at that.”
Henry sez, “I been researchin’ this on the
intranet, and I got me an idee how we can make some money.” Now
friend, I have to admit that money sounded right good to me just
then. Farmin’ subsidies only go so far into a community and I
didn’t have the best farm in the world to start with. Pretty near
everybody in town got by, just like I did, but wasn’t none of us
what you’d call well off. I figgered Henry had a mail-order scheme
in mind, or maybe trying to sell everybody their own VCRs and porno
tapes, but it turned out that I was guessin’ low. Henry come out
with, “I think we can make our own ay-dult movie and sell it.”
It’s a good thing he waited ‘til after I et
my pie, because otherwise I’da smushed it when my chin hit the
counter. I sez, “You want us to what?” He sez, make our own
porno-type movie. “That’s what I thought you said, I just couldn’t
believe you’d say it twice in the same day. Look around you, Henry,
have you ever seen an ay-dult movie look like this?”
This is where Henry got that big grin, the
one that always loses him all his money on poker night, and he sez,
“Nope, I surely haven’t. And that’s why we have to do it.” Henry
explained that amachure tapes like the one we saw had really blown
the foam off the ay-dult film industry. Here they were, using these
fancy sets and extravagant costumes and high-priced porno stars and
expensive drugs and I don’t know what-all, and it turned out that
people were more interested in a’watchin’ people what look like
their neighbors go at it. No sets, no fancy cars, no fancy
lightin’, and nuthin in the way of props that you couldn’t find in
a kitchen drawer or a good hardware store. It just blew the ay-dult
industry away, and they sat up and said, “we got to get us some
amachures, fast,” and that’s why Henry had his grin.
“Ain’t no one doin’ mountain porn, Ollie,”
he sez. “We got the field wide open, and you saw the video. Ain’t
nuthin’ happen on that video we couldn’t do ourselves.” He looked
so happy you’da thought his pockets were full o’ cream.
Me bein’ the natural pessimist that I am, I
had to poke holes in his idea. “And just where do we get all the
stuff for this, Henry? You got a movie studio in your boot?” Henry
just grinned his grin and said that his cousin had one of them
video cameras, and that was all we really needed, we could build or
fake anything else. I sez, “And just where do we get our stars for
this porno movie? You volunteering?”
Henry allowed as how he didn’t think no one
would pay to see him with his clothes off, and I had to agree,
seein’ as how Henry did resemble a fella who had taken into his
mind to swaller a couch. “No,” he sez, “I think they’d rather see
someone like that,” and with that he grabbed my arm and pointed out
the winder and across the street.
There was Dolly Sue Magee, known far and
wide as the prettiest and easiest girl in all of Cliffside County.
Last year she won first place in the Miss Green Bean Beauty Pageant
and from what I hear she personally thanked every single judge
until they couldn’t hardly see straight anymore. She thanked one
judge near on to death and he wasn’t even a beauty pageant judge,
he was a judge for the hot dog eatin’ contest, but story goes that
she figgered he’d be the man to accurately rate her technique. If
there was anyone around who would get to it in front of a camera on
purpose, it was Dolly Sue.
“Okay,” I sez, “I’ll give you that one. But
what about the fella? We got to have someone in there with her,
unless you just want to film her lovin’ up on some produce, and I’m
pretty sure Dolly Sue won’t go for that.”
Not to worry, Henry told me, he had some
thoughts in that direction. What he needed from me was the use of
my barn this weekend. Oh, and he’d sure ‘preciate it if’n I could
whip out a script, too. Afore I could say another word about it he
was up off his stool and out the door, leaving me confused and a
touch apprehensive. Also with the bill for the pie, but anyone
knows Henry learns quick to expect that sort of thing. Payin’
happens to other people in Henry’s world.
From what I could recollect of the other
movies we had watched, along with the odd blue movie I had seen at
friends’ houses, I didn’t think whomping up a script would be any
too hard. ‘Here’s the pizza, lady’ and a coupla ‘oh gods’ oughtta
do ‘er. But afore I could do the first word, I’d have to tell my
wife Junie, and that scared me more than a little bit. See, I’m not
a real old man, but I been married most o’ my life now and I’m just
startin’ to get a handle on how this thing works. I wasn’t entirely
sure convincing Junie that me helping out with any ay-dult movie
was the smartest thing in the world, but I was positive down to my
shoes that not telling her and then doing it anyway was the fastest
way any man ever come up with to leave this world behind. I heard
someone say once that it was easier to get forgiveness than
permission, but they never talk about the mortality rate.
I showed up at home all nervous-like and
stammering, but it turned out Henry got to her first, and for once
in his life he helped. Soon as I walk in the door she up and sez,
“Ollie! You writin’ a ee-rotic movie! Henry just got off the phone
with me, told me all about it. Honey, that’s so excitin’!”
I can’t say I was unhappy with her reaction,
but it sure weren’t what I was expecting, and I told her so. She
sez, “Baby, you know I ain’t never been one of them biddies what
get married and suddenly forget all about what they was up to in
the woods just a month previous. I love you and I love what we do
and if you can write that down and make other people see how
beautiful it is then more power to you, is what I say. Besides, our
Garden Club watched those movies a couple times when we met at the
lodge and I know you can write something better than that trash.” I
hugged her tight and sent a thank-you up to God for giving me the
best wife in the world. After a minute she pulled back and sez to
me, “’Course I don’t see any reason for you to include anything I
usually say, or any noises I make or nuthin’.”
I assured her that my dialogue would be
original and the actors would be on their own as far as noises
went, and that I would use one of them fake names so nobody’d know
it was me what wrote it. I headed into the family room and found
she’d already dug out my typewriter and some paper and set me up
with enough coffee to irrigate the Sahara.
when Henry and Dolly Sue, and young Wilbur Tubbs works over at
Fred’s Auto Parts, and Fat Jimmy and Tollie and Judge Jackson all
pulled into the driveway, horns blaring and them hollerin’ and I
don’t know what all, like to raise the dead. When we come outside
they was already in the barn, movin’ the tractor out and clearin’
some space inside for the studio. Henry, he sees me comin’ and he
grabs my arm. “You got the script ready?” he sez. I told him I did
and that it was a humdinger, almost five pages, and that I even
made some copies of it so nobody’d have to pass it around. Henry
told me I was a true perfessional.
Junie saw right away that Dolly Sue weren’t
dressed proper. My script had her as a innocent young farmer’s
daughter but Dolly Sue was dressed the way she usually is in tight
shorts just coverin’ her butt and this teeny little shirt that
didn’t disguise nuthin’, with lots of dangly jewelry all over her,
and ain’t nobody in the world would guess she was innocent even if
they had never met her before in their lives and was blind besides.
Henry rushed over to show her the script, and it appeared there was
gonna be trouble once Dolly Sue found out she’d have to read
somethin’, so I lit out of the barn ‘til things cooled down. I
heard a scream and a splash, which I reckon was my sweet lady wife
introducin’ Dolly Sue to the outstandin’ makeup-removin’ properties
of the rain barrel.
Wilbur Tubbs was standin’ outside, reading
the script. I hadn’t previously thought of Wilbur in this
particular regard but I had to admit he was a good choice. Wilbur
played football in high school, linebacker, and he’s got muscles on
him he ain’t even used yet. Quiet boy, though, never heard much of
him off the field. He looked a little peaked so I leaned on the
fence next to him and asked him what was up. I sez, “You gonna be
our porno star, Wilbur?” He blushed and ducked his head and nodded.
I sez, “You sure you ready for this? Most fellers don’t do this
sort o’ thing in crowds.” He grinned and blushed again, and I began
to have doubts over our new media venture. “Wilbur,” I sez, “if
you’re doin’ this to just get close to Dolly Sue it’s my
understandin’ that you could buy her a burger and a orange drink
and it’d work just about as well and twice as fast.”
Well, Wilbur kinda went quiet for a second,
or I guess quieter, like sound wouldn’t stick to him any more.
Finally he up and sez, “Mr. Hanson? I don’t… I don’t do so well
with girls.” And that was all he had to say, cuz Wilbur Tubbs, for
all the bulgin’ muscles he had on his steelworker’s body, had a
voice like Mickey Mouse.
I clapped him on the back and told him not
to worry; he couldn’t get turned down today if he tried ‘cause it
weren’t in the script. We went up to the house together so’s I
could get him outfitted.
When we got back to the barn Junie was just
finishing up Dolly Sue, and I had to admit she done a fine job. If
I hadn’t personally seen Dolly Sue proposition a basketball team
once, I’d have thought she was a Sunday School teacher who’d wear a
coat in the tub so as not to scandalize the angels. She had her
hair up in a bun and her makeup scrubbed off and she was wearing
Junie’s old gingham dress but with the top buttons unbuttoned, and
since Dolly Sue’s a handful where my sweet Junebug is a palmful,
she was spilling out in such a way as to make sweat break out on
the forehead of every man there.
holdin’ a new tape over his head like a bowlin’ trophy, we was
ready to elect him Mayor and two council seats besides. Everybody
slapped him on the back like he was a returnin’ astronaut, and then
they grabbed a drink and a seat around the TV while he did the
honors. It was just’ like meetin’ a new pretty girl, only without
all the datin’ and food and stuff. A couple of the fellas even sat
up straighter and ran their hands through their hair. The movie
started, the credits rolled, and then all that hootin’ and
a’hollerin’ that we had ready to go just stopped up in our throats
because we was all too surprised to see that the girl on this tape
was a real girl. I mean, those other’n were real girls too, but
they was all made up and spiffed up and painted up and looked more
like showfolk than anything else. Watching them commingle was
entertainment, pure and simple. But this here was more like
peeping, like watchin’ neighbors through their winders, and it was
a whole different experience I can tell you. Apart from Bo Wilson
I’m pretty sure none of us ever did that before, peeped I mean, and
he swears he stopped it cold last Palm Sunday. We didn’t yell once
during the entire production, we just watched it right through like
little kids at the picture show and then we sat there,
poleaxed.
Fat Jimmy, he sez “Good God A’mighty,” and
he picked up the video box to look at it. It said something like
“Amateur Sex Slutz” on it, with a “z” for the “s” so’s you’d know
it was real uptown, and the pictures on the box didn’t do justice
to what we had just seen.
Now I cain’t rightly speak for everyone, but
this was the first ay-dult movie I’d ever seen that made me feel
dirty, or got a rise out of my britches either, and friend, I
wasn’t too sure yet what I thought about that. From the looks of
the other men in the room I wasn’t alone, and all I could think of
was that I was powerful glad I was married and had a chance to put
this somewheres tonight, ‘cause otherwise there wouldn’t be a safe
knothole for twenty miles around. I felt sorry for some of the
fellers, I did, but it had just become every man for hisself and I
had somewheres I needed to be and so I left without even grabbing
my hat.
My wife Junie was used to me stumbling home
after a lodge meetin’ but I do think she was surprised at what I
brung home with me, and we put it to good use as soon as we could
get most of the way upstairs. I fell asleep tired and happy and
didn’t think much about the tape until a few days later when Henry
Vanderkin run me down outside Hattie’s Diner.
timing belt looked at and thought I’d swing by Hattie’s for a slice
of one o’ her famous blueberry pies, when Henry calls out to me
from down the street. Now Henry’s all right if you don’t mind him.
He’s a mountain boy seven generations back, good-natured in an
exasperatin’ sort of way, but ever since he got cable and the
intranet he’s had wild ideas about how to do things. Cain’t rightly
say he’s wrong, neither, but he does wear on a body sometimes. He
catches up to me and he sez, “Ollie, can I talk to you a
minute?”
I told him I didn’t mind as long as he
didn’t mind sharing my attention with a pie, and that sounded right
good to him. We went into Hattie’s and bless her, she had pie
waiting for both of us and with ice cream on the tops of each one
without us even asking for it. I swear, if I ever get to Heaven and
Hattie ain’t there, I’m gone turn right around and walk out and
take my business elsewhere. We tucked into that pie like there was
money at the bottom, and after things settled a bit Henry come out
with his proposition.
Henry sez, “You remember that tape we
watched?” I allowed as how I did. He sez, “It strike you any
different from them others we got?” I allowed as how it had. He
just smiled and told me that it had burned a hole in everbody
else’s britches too, and that in the three days since its debut
that video had been run about thirty times and that some of the
fellas without wives or girlfriends was watching it and lockin’ the
door, which had always been against lodge rules on account o’ we
don’t want to do any more floor-mopping than was absolutely
necessary.
I sez, “It sounds like that tape’s gone get
wore out faster than Bo Wilson’s zipper, although that might be a
close race, at that.”
Henry sez, “I been researchin’ this on the
intranet, and I got me an idee how we can make some money.” Now
friend, I have to admit that money sounded right good to me just
then. Farmin’ subsidies only go so far into a community and I
didn’t have the best farm in the world to start with. Pretty near
everybody in town got by, just like I did, but wasn’t none of us
what you’d call well off. I figgered Henry had a mail-order scheme
in mind, or maybe trying to sell everybody their own VCRs and porno
tapes, but it turned out that I was guessin’ low. Henry come out
with, “I think we can make our own ay-dult movie and sell it.”
It’s a good thing he waited ‘til after I et
my pie, because otherwise I’da smushed it when my chin hit the
counter. I sez, “You want us to what?” He sez, make our own
porno-type movie. “That’s what I thought you said, I just couldn’t
believe you’d say it twice in the same day. Look around you, Henry,
have you ever seen an ay-dult movie look like this?”
This is where Henry got that big grin, the
one that always loses him all his money on poker night, and he sez,
“Nope, I surely haven’t. And that’s why we have to do it.” Henry
explained that amachure tapes like the one we saw had really blown
the foam off the ay-dult film industry. Here they were, using these
fancy sets and extravagant costumes and high-priced porno stars and
expensive drugs and I don’t know what-all, and it turned out that
people were more interested in a’watchin’ people what look like
their neighbors go at it. No sets, no fancy cars, no fancy
lightin’, and nuthin in the way of props that you couldn’t find in
a kitchen drawer or a good hardware store. It just blew the ay-dult
industry away, and they sat up and said, “we got to get us some
amachures, fast,” and that’s why Henry had his grin.
“Ain’t no one doin’ mountain porn, Ollie,”
he sez. “We got the field wide open, and you saw the video. Ain’t
nuthin’ happen on that video we couldn’t do ourselves.” He looked
so happy you’da thought his pockets were full o’ cream.
Me bein’ the natural pessimist that I am, I
had to poke holes in his idea. “And just where do we get all the
stuff for this, Henry? You got a movie studio in your boot?” Henry
just grinned his grin and said that his cousin had one of them
video cameras, and that was all we really needed, we could build or
fake anything else. I sez, “And just where do we get our stars for
this porno movie? You volunteering?”
Henry allowed as how he didn’t think no one
would pay to see him with his clothes off, and I had to agree,
seein’ as how Henry did resemble a fella who had taken into his
mind to swaller a couch. “No,” he sez, “I think they’d rather see
someone like that,” and with that he grabbed my arm and pointed out
the winder and across the street.
There was Dolly Sue Magee, known far and
wide as the prettiest and easiest girl in all of Cliffside County.
Last year she won first place in the Miss Green Bean Beauty Pageant
and from what I hear she personally thanked every single judge
until they couldn’t hardly see straight anymore. She thanked one
judge near on to death and he wasn’t even a beauty pageant judge,
he was a judge for the hot dog eatin’ contest, but story goes that
she figgered he’d be the man to accurately rate her technique. If
there was anyone around who would get to it in front of a camera on
purpose, it was Dolly Sue.
“Okay,” I sez, “I’ll give you that one. But
what about the fella? We got to have someone in there with her,
unless you just want to film her lovin’ up on some produce, and I’m
pretty sure Dolly Sue won’t go for that.”
Not to worry, Henry told me, he had some
thoughts in that direction. What he needed from me was the use of
my barn this weekend. Oh, and he’d sure ‘preciate it if’n I could
whip out a script, too. Afore I could say another word about it he
was up off his stool and out the door, leaving me confused and a
touch apprehensive. Also with the bill for the pie, but anyone
knows Henry learns quick to expect that sort of thing. Payin’
happens to other people in Henry’s world.
From what I could recollect of the other
movies we had watched, along with the odd blue movie I had seen at
friends’ houses, I didn’t think whomping up a script would be any
too hard. ‘Here’s the pizza, lady’ and a coupla ‘oh gods’ oughtta
do ‘er. But afore I could do the first word, I’d have to tell my
wife Junie, and that scared me more than a little bit. See, I’m not
a real old man, but I been married most o’ my life now and I’m just
startin’ to get a handle on how this thing works. I wasn’t entirely
sure convincing Junie that me helping out with any ay-dult movie
was the smartest thing in the world, but I was positive down to my
shoes that not telling her and then doing it anyway was the fastest
way any man ever come up with to leave this world behind. I heard
someone say once that it was easier to get forgiveness than
permission, but they never talk about the mortality rate.
I showed up at home all nervous-like and
stammering, but it turned out Henry got to her first, and for once
in his life he helped. Soon as I walk in the door she up and sez,
“Ollie! You writin’ a ee-rotic movie! Henry just got off the phone
with me, told me all about it. Honey, that’s so excitin’!”
I can’t say I was unhappy with her reaction,
but it sure weren’t what I was expecting, and I told her so. She
sez, “Baby, you know I ain’t never been one of them biddies what
get married and suddenly forget all about what they was up to in
the woods just a month previous. I love you and I love what we do
and if you can write that down and make other people see how
beautiful it is then more power to you, is what I say. Besides, our
Garden Club watched those movies a couple times when we met at the
lodge and I know you can write something better than that trash.” I
hugged her tight and sent a thank-you up to God for giving me the
best wife in the world. After a minute she pulled back and sez to
me, “’Course I don’t see any reason for you to include anything I
usually say, or any noises I make or nuthin’.”
I assured her that my dialogue would be
original and the actors would be on their own as far as noises
went, and that I would use one of them fake names so nobody’d know
it was me what wrote it. I headed into the family room and found
she’d already dug out my typewriter and some paper and set me up
with enough coffee to irrigate the Sahara.
when Henry and Dolly Sue, and young Wilbur Tubbs works over at
Fred’s Auto Parts, and Fat Jimmy and Tollie and Judge Jackson all
pulled into the driveway, horns blaring and them hollerin’ and I
don’t know what all, like to raise the dead. When we come outside
they was already in the barn, movin’ the tractor out and clearin’
some space inside for the studio. Henry, he sees me comin’ and he
grabs my arm. “You got the script ready?” he sez. I told him I did
and that it was a humdinger, almost five pages, and that I even
made some copies of it so nobody’d have to pass it around. Henry
told me I was a true perfessional.
Junie saw right away that Dolly Sue weren’t
dressed proper. My script had her as a innocent young farmer’s
daughter but Dolly Sue was dressed the way she usually is in tight
shorts just coverin’ her butt and this teeny little shirt that
didn’t disguise nuthin’, with lots of dangly jewelry all over her,
and ain’t nobody in the world would guess she was innocent even if
they had never met her before in their lives and was blind besides.
Henry rushed over to show her the script, and it appeared there was
gonna be trouble once Dolly Sue found out she’d have to read
somethin’, so I lit out of the barn ‘til things cooled down. I
heard a scream and a splash, which I reckon was my sweet lady wife
introducin’ Dolly Sue to the outstandin’ makeup-removin’ properties
of the rain barrel.
Wilbur Tubbs was standin’ outside, reading
the script. I hadn’t previously thought of Wilbur in this
particular regard but I had to admit he was a good choice. Wilbur
played football in high school, linebacker, and he’s got muscles on
him he ain’t even used yet. Quiet boy, though, never heard much of
him off the field. He looked a little peaked so I leaned on the
fence next to him and asked him what was up. I sez, “You gonna be
our porno star, Wilbur?” He blushed and ducked his head and nodded.
I sez, “You sure you ready for this? Most fellers don’t do this
sort o’ thing in crowds.” He grinned and blushed again, and I began
to have doubts over our new media venture. “Wilbur,” I sez, “if
you’re doin’ this to just get close to Dolly Sue it’s my
understandin’ that you could buy her a burger and a orange drink
and it’d work just about as well and twice as fast.”
Well, Wilbur kinda went quiet for a second,
or I guess quieter, like sound wouldn’t stick to him any more.
Finally he up and sez, “Mr. Hanson? I don’t… I don’t do so well
with girls.” And that was all he had to say, cuz Wilbur Tubbs, for
all the bulgin’ muscles he had on his steelworker’s body, had a
voice like Mickey Mouse.
I clapped him on the back and told him not
to worry; he couldn’t get turned down today if he tried ‘cause it
weren’t in the script. We went up to the house together so’s I
could get him outfitted.
When we got back to the barn Junie was just
finishing up Dolly Sue, and I had to admit she done a fine job. If
I hadn’t personally seen Dolly Sue proposition a basketball team
once, I’d have thought she was a Sunday School teacher who’d wear a
coat in the tub so as not to scandalize the angels. She had her
hair up in a bun and her makeup scrubbed off and she was wearing
Junie’s old gingham dress but with the top buttons unbuttoned, and
since Dolly Sue’s a handful where my sweet Junebug is a palmful,
she was spilling out in such a way as to make sweat break out on
the forehead of every man there.
Other books
Muscle Memory by William G. Tapply
Night in Heaven by Malori, Reana
Garden of Dreams by Melissa Siebert
Suzanne Robinson by Lady Defiant
Un hombre que promete by Adele Ashworth
Forty Words for Sorrow by Giles Blunt
Evening: Poetry of Anna Akhmatova by Anna Akhmatova
First Kill All the Lawyers by Sarah Shankman
The Never Never Sisters by L. Alison Heller
