Ridge Runner

Ridge Runner

Trees, stumps and boulders that he knew well enough to find in the dark appeared as apparitions then faded behind as he stormed up the slim hollow away from the cabin down on the flat river bend. Boiling clouds of wet morning fog clutched at his feet and pulled at his arms as he worked to climb above them.

Halfway to the ridge he slipped around an outcropping and paused to breathe near the copse of stunted torch pine that seemed to grow right out of the rocks. Later in the day, with the sun high overhead, this was a favorite sunning spot for copperheads but now only golden tendrils of sunlight had begun to tear at the gauzy curtain around him. Through an opening shard of green, the cabin looked like a small car from here. From up top it would be a matchbox.

Flight was more an instinct than a planned strategy. No doubt when she said “GO!” she meant out of the room but by the time he yanked his jeans up and cinched his belt, “OUT!” was all he was thinking.

He heard his name, clear as a crow’s call across the valley. Once. Then again. His heart, settling back into its rhythm, pumped the blood that coursed through the welts that he knew crossed his backside. He felt the burn that had been dulled by the run up the mountain. The searing pain that had forced him to bite the pillow.

But worse than that, he felt the wet spot in the front of his pants, that small drip that came when he was hard in spite of-or because of-his humiliation and pain. How could that be right? The first time she’d laid hands on him he felt it.  Did she know that? Could she tell? Is that why she stopped taking him over her lap and made him lie across the bed?

He wasn’t hard just then, thinking about it. But he wasn’t altogether soft either. With none but the trees to see, he rubbed his hand along the back of his jeans feeling a slight charge from massaging a spot at the top of his leg. Just as he was about to loosen his belt to slip his hand inside, he heard his name again. Sharper this time. Jabbing. Then, “It’ll be twice as bad if you don’t get back here right now!”

His heart beginning to race again, he turned his back downhill and continued to climb.

November Rain


Neon Rain.

From Tumblr-“Rain” blog

He had gone silent, the way he would, gazing over her shoulder as if absorbed in the shimmering neon reflected on the rain-spattered window. He got this way every time the subject came up. Or rather, every time she shot it down.

She regarded his jawline, his wavy brown hair combed over his ears and ached. She physically ached. Jesus, the guy had it all. Of course the looks had attracted her first-she could admit that. But then the job, the condo, the money…it had seemed perfect for a while. Then, this.

She didn’t know why she couldn’t get past it. Christ knows all her other lines had been drawn in shifting sands-why was this one so hard and set? Just the way it was, she guessed.

Would she have married him had she known about this two years ago? He would have been tough to resist; the security he provided, the doors that he opened for her. But this. Back then, she probably would have ignored it as best she could. Hoped that it was a passing phase. But now, it wasn’t passing. It was settling in and coloring everything. And now she had a say in what they would do and what they wouldn’t.

With an almost untouched beer in front of him he motioned the waitress over. Here we go, she thought.

“A shot of Grandad please.”

She reached out and covered his hand with hers. “Tony-come on…”

“Ah,” he said watching the traffic splash by outside. “November rains always put a chill into me.” Then, calling to the waitress’ retreating back, “Make that a double.”

“Tony”, she said, rubbing his hand. He shifted his gaze making eye-contact for the first time in what seemed like an hour. His eyes were bright and skittery. Frantic-water bugs skimming a pond.

“It’s alright”, he said, “I’m good.”

The waitress put the heavy shot in front of him. Before she even fully turned away, he threw the hot liquor down his throat. Ordinarily, he was a sipper. Liked to savor his whisky over ice. Over time. “Another,” he said holding up the empty glass.

She withdrew her hand from his and focused on the cracked wooden table top. Nothing to do now but hunker down and wait for this storm to pass.


Odd Tuesday



Continued from Jenna…

At 10:00 sharp the lights in the already dim bar darken another shade focusing all attention to the large television screens hanging on the walls. The regular TV feed had been switched to what looked like a swirling collage of pictures and images moving too quickly to focus.

Mike the doe-eyed security man was below the largest TV with a hand mike. “Ladies and Gentleman! The time has come, to see who might have to spend the rest of the evening standing” a loud spatter of laughter and hoots interrupted him, “or at least sitting gingerly. Are we ready to see?” A loud “Yes!” and he pressed the remote in this hand. There was a fantastic whirl of swimming colors on all the screens which eventually slowed until the pictures and names stored in the chips of everyone’s ID’s began to focus. People strained to see themselves spinning by on-screen. “There I went”, thought Colleen Palmer relaxing as she saw the red top she had worn for her ID photo zip past. She ignored the knowledge that the displays were random and she could come right back.

Between her and Kendra, Pat Jensen watched intently, squeezing his drink, unable to disguise his nerves. This wasn’t really his scene-or being a part of it wasn’t. He was more of a lurker. He enjoyed watching Corrine or Mike paddle the errant waitress now and again but….Damn, he was so hot for Kendra who was rubbing his right thigh as she watched the screen he hadn’t left before this.

Then, the display slowed to make all the sliding pictures visible and everybody watched like the spinning dice on a chuck-a-luck wheel some shouting as their own image flew by. Mike had set the remote aside to allay any fears that we was manipulating the drawing. The screen froze with the visage of a twenty-something guy smiling widely into the camera, the name Jason Biggs superimposed over the picture. “Jason Biggs! Are you in the house?” The question was unnecessary as, at the end of the bar and girl was jumping up and pointing at the unfortunate Jason, no doubt her date. She punched him in the arm and laughed since this evening was his idea and his plan was to have her picture show up on the screen not his.

Mike pressed the button on the remote and the spinning began again. Given the crowd, there would be three more names chosen. The display slowed and slowed…”Megan Hess” he said as the picture of the raven-haired forty-something temptress appeared. No need to look for her as Megan jumped up at her stool raising both fists high in the air. Her breasts threatened to pop out of her blouse which had lost another button in the course of the evening. Beside her Bethany shook her head smiling. “You win…” she said. Megan pointed at Mike, who nodded-accepting the assignment- and pressed the button again.

“SHIT!” Colleen Palmer hissed as she saw her face smiling at her from the screen. “Shit-shit-shit!”

“Oops”, said Kendra. “Sorry about that honey.” She released Jensen’s thigh to reach across and pat her friend’s hand.

Colleen sighed…”It’s OK. Just my luck. Wow” Her heart was pounding…”Would you…?”

“Let Pat…” She said. “You guys are friends right?”

Jensen looked to his left and patted her knee in a way much different from how he had been patting and rubbing Kendra’s. “If you want, I will. I won’t go crazy, you know.”

“Ok, sure….”

“The last one”, Mike said as he pressed the button. Half of the room knowing they were one face away from being saved for the evening and the other half knowing they would have to wait for their secret fantasy to be fulfilled, leaned forward.

“And our final winner is…”

She didn’t look up-kept her eyes glued to the floor almost knowing what was coming- “Jenna Redmon!” She shook her head grinning ruefully. One chance in 10, she thought. Why was she so sure she’d be picked?

“Oooohh…Jenna”, Molly said beside her in something like sympathetic wonder.

“Yep.“ Jenna said without looking up-didn’t want to see her picture on the screen. “Got me.”

Mike flipped the TV back to its regular feed and moved down the bar to get the paddles. He paused beside Kim Chen who was putting her coat on to leave. “Stick around”, he told her. “No need to run off…” She smiled brightly and patted him on the cheek. “Early day tomorrow.”

“You know…” he started, ignoring the warning bells sounding between his ears. “You don’t have to wait a couple of weeks to see if-by chance-you can get what you…want. I can…”

“You’re sweet…”

“No so much. No really. Kim-anytime. Anything.” He slid easily from hesitancy into a firm assertion-finally getting the hand he had be waiting for, he pushed all his chips into the middle of the table. “Only what you want. Only when you want. Seriously. Completely at your service.”

She paused, coat over her shoulders, and looked into his eyes for a hint of anything that wasn’t true. “You want to run in the morning?”

“I don’t get out of here till two. When’s morning?”

“I can wait till ten. Meet you at the pump house at the reservoir?”

“I’ll be there.”

She smiled and kissed him a quick peck on the cheek. “Wear your fast shoes…” She turned and walked away leaving Mike feeling light and about sixteen years old.

At the end of the bar, Corrine was comically begging Jenna. “Can I do you? Can I, huh, can I….?”

“Probably not” said Jenna. “You want to too much…”

Corrine saw her looking toward Mike as he walked by. “Naw, not him. He’ll swat the MILF.”

“Jesus!” said Molly.

“Here”, said Jenna jabbing at Corrine. “How about Molly?”

“Molly’s not playing tonight”. Corrine said quickly. That was all she would need-Having Molly up front having not run her card. “Aw come on…somebody has to…”

“Oh, all right.”

“Yesss!” Corrine hissed pumping a fist.

They stood across the wall of the back room on a riser meant for a band; four pairs, each with a chair behind them.

Jason Biggs was first in line, his wife Sharon a slight honey-haired girl standing beside him paddle in hand. After he turned around, the crowd howled at his wife’s pantomime as she pretended to wind up like a baseball batter lifting her leg to feign a vicious follow-through. Whatever it was exactly, this was the kind of domestic drama that always played well at The Club.

Next was Colleen, looking uncomfortable but smiling gamely. She couldn’t wait to turn around so she wouldn’t have to look at anyone. She strangely remembered an ex-boyfriend who had told her, “that’s kind of odd, isn’t it?” when she had asked him for a birthday spanking a couple of years back. Wonder what he would think of this?

Beside her, Megan continued to play to the crowd with Mike, the dutiful straight-man, smiling beside her. Without prodding she raised her hands pulling all attention her way, then slowly brought them to her belt. With overwrought motions she slipped the leather overlap from its loop and unclasped it. The crowd whistled. In answer, she unsnapped her corduroys.

Jesus, thought Mike, the older ones are always the crazy ones. As if they don’t give a shit who thinks what, they are going to do what they want. Megan had tried to get Mike to come home with her a couple of times and he’d be lying if he said we wasn’t intrigued.  But he knew on some level that she might be more than even he could handle. If she got him into her lair she would spank him purple and probably snap his dick off like a rotted twig. Then where would he be? Better a gentle dalliance with Kim Chen that promised….he didn’t know what it promised but he was looking forward to it.

On a signal from the bar all four turned around. With her back to the bar, Megan unzipped her fly and pulled her pants open. Then with a slow undulation she pushed first one side then the other downward-working carefully so her panties didn’t slide down too. The crowd whistled their appreciation as her pants slid below her bottom revealing a pair of black panties with the words “SPANK HERE” emblazoned across them. She pointed them out as if anyone could miss them.

Jenna grinned over at Megan who caught her eye and winked.

“So, Jenna…” Corrine asked. “You want to drop them?”

“Naw, that’s OK. This will be fine.”

“You won’t let a girl have any fun.”

“I don’t think you do anything but have fun.”

Corrine grinned and touched her hand to Jenna’s shoulder, bending her over. She grabbed the seat of the chair and arched her back, filling the denim with her backside. There was a twitter in the crowd as Corrine lifted the shirt tail up and over her back. She waited and glanced to her left but Megan’s hair shielded her face.

The first swat landed and stung a bit-more of a thud-muted by her jeans and underwear. The last time this had happened to her, she was bare and she remembered the terrific burn she felt from the paddle. The second swat was a little harder and landed fully on the left cheek, Corrine spreading it out.

Megan absorbed the first swat with nary a twitch. She pushed her bottom backward spreading the SPANK and HERE a little wider. “Come on Mike….” She whispered over her shoulder. On the count from the bar, he patted her with the paddle then pulled back-further this time-and let fly. All four landed in a crackling fusillade. “Better”, she said.

Jason caught his breath after the second swat and squeezed the chair tighter. He couldn’t believe how hard she was paddling him and wracked his brain trying to remember what he might have done to deserve it. His thoughts were driven to the winds though when Sharon actually did wind up like a baseball player and delivered a harder swat than she even thought she could right across is backside. His mouth fell open in a gasp but he said nothing. Jesus! That HURTS! he thought.

After the third swat Megan raised her hand and, with approval from Mike, stood slowly. This was a break that would normally earn her another swat but an exception would be made in her case as the crowd again howled. She placed her thumbs in the waistband of her panties and slowly unveiled her ample bottom to the room. Mike took a step back and with both hands-the right still holding the paddle- pointed Vanna-style at the round pink backside. “Ta-DAAAA!” he seemed to be saying.

Before going back over she whispered, “Make this one count, Mikey…” When she bent, Mike was happy to see that her cheeks were full enough to shield and cover everything else down there. Again, on the signal he lay the wood against her skin that we saw was sprinkled with tiny goose bumps then pulled back. He put more of his arm and shoulder into this swing.

The sound of the paddle hitting bare skin was a loud “SPLATT”, distinctive from the other three cracks. Her cheeks spread and quivered with the impact. She jumped upright and clapped both hands to her bottom rubbing and dancing in place as the crowd roared their approval. To Mike’s relief she didn’t turn around to give the room the full frontal but stood proudly displaying a pulsing bruise on her right globe that closely matched the cranberry color in her blouse. She then bent-everything was done slowly and theatrically-and pulled up her panties, smoothing them over her reddened and finally, happily sore backside then followed with her cords.

Jenna took solace in the knowledge that, bent over in the shadow of Megan’s show, nobody would remember that she was up here tonight. She took the last swat stoically and stood up. “That was OK. Right?” said Corrine standing close, her eyes a bit glassy and her cheeks flushed. “Not too hard?”

“No, it’s good.” Jenna gave her the small smile that she thought she was fishing for. “We’re good.”

Colleen stood red-faced and rubbed her bottom quickly smiling at Jensen, knowing he had taken it easy on her. Yeah, he was a sweet guy. Why hadn’t they ever hooked up she wondered looking up at him. Then her eyes cut to Kendra across the bar who raised her glass in salute. Probably because I’m not tall and blonde she thought.

Jason Biggs kneaded his butt through his khakis knowing how hard she had hit him-how hard she had meant to hit him. He looked at his little Sharon who returned a tight smile that belied the fire burning in her eyes. He wasn’t sure he was in a hurry to go home.

“Those of you going home with someone who swung the paddle tonight, remember there is no retaliation allowed! That would go against the spirt of our game here. You will just have to wait for the next Odd Tuesday.”




Continued from “A Haven for the Particular”

Corrine saw her, alone at the corner of the bar, when reaching for a bottle on the shelf beside the cooler. She must have snuck in. She lifted her chin in the universal “I’ll be there in a sec” bartender signal. The girl nodded back. She was about Corrine’s height with wider shoulders giving her a more tapered torso.

“I’m sorry”, Corrine said approaching. “You snuck in on me.”

“S’okay. I wasn’t here that long.”

“I’m Corrine.”

“Jenna.” She reached a fist over the bar and Corrine bumped it. Big hands extending out of the rolled sleeves of a western style shirt that she wore untucked. “Double Tito’s. Single tonic.”

Corrine poured smoothly and quickly-not hurrying but with no wasted motion aside from the necessary flourishes with the knife and the lime. Then, drink in her right hand, she flipped a coaster in front of Jenna and plopped the glass on it.

“Thanks.” The short thick waves of her auburn hair was dark enough to be mistaken for brown. Her smile showed a slight overbite with a little overlap in her front teeth. Interesting-not unattractive.

“You’re not…exactly new here are you?”

“I was here once before. A few Tuesdays ago…”

“Odd Tuesday?”


“You alone?”


“You’re signed in at the door?”

In answer, Jenna waved her Club ID that she pulled out of her back pocket.

“Can’t believe I don’t remember you…Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. I hid pretty much. In the back corner.”

“You’re new in town though…I can’t really place the accent.”

“Don’t try. Moved around a lot as a kid. My dad was in the Air Force. Moved here from Houston about a month ago where we were for awhile. My boyfriend got transferred.”

“You have a good month or two before winter settles in…”

“No problem. I was born in Colorado-wanted someplace green with seasons you could feel.”

“Oh yes….there are a lot of things you can feel around here”, Corrine said gauging how wicked of a smile to send. She paused as her phone vibrated in her back pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at it then replaced it.

“Right back…”

Jenna watched her give a quick if discreet look around the bar then slip through the opening and out of the room through a set of swinging doors behind her. She scanned the mixed crowd. A couple of guys in business casual, a lot of jeans, some hipster flannel and a smattering of leather. A forty-something woman-prettily made up with immaculate hair and nails sucked nervously at a cigarette. She shrugged an embarrassed, “yes, I’m here” smile when Jenna caught her eye then looked down at the ashtray. Jenna couldn’t tell if she was embarrassed to be here as a spectator or to want to be part of the show.

With a swoosh behind her, the swinging door opened again. Corrine slipped unobtrusively back behind the bar and a bright little red-headed firecracker popped into a space beside Jenna. She again noticed Corrine scanning the bar quickly, not quite nervously but, anxiously. Convinced then, of something, she turned her attention back to the two of them.

“Jenna-Molly”, said Corrine. “Molly-Jenna…”

“Hi”, said Molly extending a hand.

“The back door girl…” said Jenna, shaking it.

“Yeah, well…” said Corrine refilling Jenna’s drink “She’s just stopping by for a moment…” Then placing the drink in front of her, “This is on me…” Jenna thanked her with a quick nod. “Be right back…”

Molly watched Corrine serving the other side of the bar as Jenna focused on a small bruise on the side of the girl’s neck that she had tried to conceal with makeup. Do adults give each other sucker bites up here?

“You a regular here?”

“No, no…” Molly said. “I’m usually at the ‘Lucky’ uptown. You know it?” Jenna shook her head. “Good music-used to be full on jazz but it’s a mix now… came here with a friend a couple of months ago, I guess. This place…wakes up something in me…”

“I could see that…”

“How about you”, Molly asked. “You new here?”

She explained that she had been here before and Molly asked her if she had been picked.

“No”, she smiled. “Happily not.”

“Happily not, or sadly not…?” There was a twinkle to the girl, that’s for sure.

Jenna smiled and sipped at her drink. “You know, I’m not sure really.”

“Uh huh…” Molly sipped at a drink that Corrine had slipped in front of her.

“I have a history”, Jenna said.

“Oh? Really?”

“About five years ago. I was a sorority girl.”

“Do they still do that?”

“They did in my case…”

“Still do what?” Corrine asked returning to chat. She had been joined by another bartender as the evening marched on so there was some time.

“She was in a sorority…”

“Really? What was that like?”….

The beauty of a place like The Club, especially on Odd Tuesday, is that everyone there-regardless of background, job or back story had traces of the same color within. Things which wouldn’t be talked about in the outside could be happily ordinary here. Jenna had no problem telling her story.

“Jesus”, Corrine shook her head. “You’re tougher than I am-I couldn’t have stood for that…”

“She gives”, Molly smiled. “Can’t take…”

“Enough out of you…”

“…And that was the beginning of the end for me at School. Some of the girls started calling me “Wild and Wooley” which was funny-I never trimmed back then…but school wasn’t right for me.”

“Got your money back though right?”

“Paid in full…I earned it though. Couldn’t sit right for a couple days.”

“You ever talk to any of them after…?”

“Two girls apologized to me. Said Heather overstepped…blah, blah…”

“So you were all forgive and forget?”

“Sure, but I told them both I’d forgive them if they came to my room and I’d give them exactly what they gave me…”

“No way”, Corrine leaned in. “You paddled them?”

“Only one took me up on it. Diana-we’re still friends-she invited me to her wedding last year…”

“Did you go?”

Oh, sure…you get pretty close to people when you’ve seen them at their most…vulnerable.”

“That is a story I’m going to want to hear sometime…For sure.” She scanned the bar and had to go make a couple of drinks.

“Talk among yourselves…Duty calls…

To Be Continued

Molly for Breakfast

Continued from…Molly In The Morning…


Because the floor to ceiling windows were tinted, the bathroom felt dim and comfortably shaded even in the bright light of morning. It was no doubt a man’s room, done in dark shades of polished concrete and stone. The hot tub was elevated on a rocky pedestal near the windows and the back wall opposite the windows was alternating rows of black slate and gray tile. There was no enclosure-it was an open shower with a wide chrome rainfall showerhead coming out of the ceiling. Two chrome hand shower heads hung on the wall.

Corrine gently guided Molly to an armless redwood chair in the middle of the room.

“Something, huh?” asked Corrine sitting.

“Like a cave…but what about…?” she was looking at the windows.

“One way glass, we can see out, nobody can see in.”

“Very cool.”

As she was talking, Corrine pulled Molly to stand between her open legs. The younger woman’s eyes fell to the tiled floor then to Corrine’s tightly toned thighs extending out of her shorts.

“You slept with John, last night…” she asked without asking.

“His bed is amazing…” Corrine answered without answering. She unbuttoned the girl’s blouse and pushed it back off of her shoulders. Molly didn’t help, she was still, allowing herself to be undressed, allowing the blouse to be pushed down her shoulders and off. She reached back and unsnapped her bra and shrugged it loose. Corrine took it and slipped it down her arms.

“You did sleep with John last night.”

“I did. But it’s what you said. I slept with John. Nothing else.”

“But you were….”

“I’m always naked over here…John and I are friends. And we have some…particular tastes that are shared by a number of friends-including his lover which isn’t me…”


Corrine put her finger over Molly’s lips. “That’s all you’re getting for now…”

She smiled. “Hopefully not all….”

Molly’s breasts were firm and round with small pink nipples. “I thought I might find some freckles on you…” said Corrine, tracing her hand across the milky mounds. Molly stepped closer to allow the woman to rub her cheek along her belly and gasped lightly when Corrine raised her mouth to lick, then kiss one of her hardening nipples. Then the other.

Back to the task at hand, Corrine unbuckled Molly’s belt and loosened her jeans. They were snug but once unzipped, slipped easily over the swell of her hips and down her legs into a bunch on the floor which Molly stepped out of. Corrine gently rubbed at the deep creases that a long night’s sleep in jeans had left at the beltline.

“This is why we don’t sleep in jeans…” she said.

“I know you don’t…” Molly answered touching Corrine’s hair.

The woman lifted her head into the caress without pausing in her own ministrations. “Here”, she said, “Let’s get rid of these…” and with that rolled the girl’s silken panties down her thighs where they joined the rest of her clothing. Corrine reached out and grasped the girl by her butt cheeks to pull her close. She dipped her head to rub her face gently into the wild bush of red hair at Molly’s crotch. “Ahhh…” she sighed-“this is what I was hoping for…”

“What?” asked Molly now stroking her soon-to-be-lover’s head with both hands.

“Wild! Hairy and wild and….wild…” She pulled her close-intoxicated.

Molly smiled and picked Corrine’s head up gently-“There is wild and there is wild…but I’d love to hit the tub now…before….”

Corrine squeezed the girl’s cheeks tighter, slipping her fingers into her crack as if hoping to split it open. “What if I don’t care…”

Molly stopped her with a kiss. “Come on” she said, “…you promised me a soak…” And if Corrine was going to say anything, another kiss stifled her words.

The eucalyptus steam filled the room and fogged the windows, further diffusing the morning light. Corrine lounged on the underwater bench with her back along the rim of the tub holding Molly snuggled in the crook of her arm. Molly, eyes closed, hungrily devoured the deep thrusting kisses that stole her breath. She opened herself as Corrine’s hands massaged her breasts then slid down her belly.

“Here”, Corrine whispered, gently removing her arm and sliding a folded towel in its place. “Lay back.”

As Molly did, Corrine slipped in front of her and knelt so that the water was up to her neck. She reached her hands under Molly’s bottom and lifted her until her muff broke the bubbling surface then closed her mouth over it with a growl.

“Hungry?” asked Molly smiling.

“Famished…” came the answer.

“Do what you want to do…”

“If I do that right now I might drown…”

Molly pulled her back up to sitting beside her but Corrine’s hand remained under the bubbles working her fingers gently around her vagina.

“Maybe we should move to drier ground, then”, said Molly.

“Do you think you’re clean enough yet”, Corrine asked gently pinching her bum.


Corrine rose to her feet as Molly’s eyes ravished her body. Her hard nipples stood erect and pulsing shedding water which ran down her flat belly and dripped from the tiny black patch at her crotch. The girl badly wanted to lap at that stream and reached out to grab at Corrine’s hip only to be rebuffed by a gentle arm block. “Uh-uh-uhhh”

Molly played along giving her a little pouty face.

Corrine extended a hand. “Come on, stand up.”

Molly had to be satisfied for the moment with a tight hug that allowed her to kiss one of Corrine’s taut breasts before being helped out of the tub.

A Haven for the Particular


They had to walk off of the main boulevard and slip down a tiny side street illuminated only by the washed light glowing behind them a dim streetlamp ahead. The two dumpsters at the end of that street seemed purposely placed to obscure the ancient brick laid alley that looked to be an original street down here-untouched by the gentrification and glare less than a full block away. Situated where it was, The Club seemed to be in a different section of town. Not many people just happened upon it when looking for something else. This was more of a destination; a haven for the particular.

Colleen Palmer stood under the awning out of the warm drizzle careful not to rub her suede coat against the damp bricks. She held her Club ID in her hand not yet extending it to Mike, the tightly shorn, surprisingly slender security guy sitting at his station in front of the door. Mid-week crowds, even tonight on an Odd Tuesday, weren’t big or frantic enough to warrant standing.

“How many are in the house?”

Mike looked at the scanner. “Twenty six right now….expecting probably forty.”

Colleen absently curled a hank of her limp brown hair between her finger and thumb. Thanks rain, she thought as the waves she had curled in disappeared on the short walk from the car. “That would be four”, she said absently to her friend Kendra, a tall willowy blond wearing jeans and sporting a thick flip of thatch that the rain couldn’t touch. “What do you think?”

Before Kendra could answer, two young girls-looked to be college kids-paused at the door and saw the discreet sign above Mike’s head. “Shit”, said one. “This is Odd Tuesday?”

“Tuesday the Thirteenth-yes Mam…” he said pleasantly enough.

“Come on Mindy”, she pulled at her friend. “We’ll come back tomorrow.” Mindy, glancing back,  reluctantly let herself be pulled away down the alley as her friend’s voice faded, “…last time I was there on a Tuesday I was so nervous all night I just couldn’t enjoy myself…..”

“We’d love to have you girls….” Mike called after them grinning. Then, as he turned his attention back two the women in front of him, Kendra slipped him her card. He ran it through the scanner.

“Still only a one in ten chance….” she said to Colleen.

Mike held her card for a moment…”Unless I run it through again”, he winked. “Up the odds a little.”

“Never mind. I’ll roll with the odds.”

With a little smile Colleen slipped Mike her card. “Only once please.”

He smiled and returned her card and turned his attention to another couple heading toward him as they slipped through the door.

Inside Pat Jensen waited for the bartender to make her way down to him. It would only be a single-trip; he was a regular, she knew what to bring him. Corrine slid him a dirty Martini, enough olive juice to mask the taste of the cheap Vodka he favored.

“Jensen! Don’t usually see you here on a Tuesday, Odd or otherwise….”

“Looking for a place to get in out of the rain…check out this crowd a little. Looks like more boys than usual.”

She looked back over her shoulder as if she hadn’t noticed…”It’s been evening out the last couple…why let the girls have all the fun?”

“I’ll probably be gone by the witching hour…”

“Come on Jensen…Live a little. Maybe we’ll go early, just to keep you in the house.”

“I don’t think so….”

She put her hand over his and froze him with her dancing eyes. “You never know Jensen” she said quietly, sweetly close to his ear, “Me standing behind-maybe close enough so our thighs touch-hand on your back…you bent over-cheek to cheek, as it were…maybe even pull your pants down.” He buzzed at the feel of her breath splashing into his ear and down his neck. She played at licking her lips. “You might turn me, who knows?”

She rubbed his hand softly and flashing a wicked smile, leaned closer and whispered…”Make you hard?”

“Let’s just say I better sit here for a few minutes”, he grinned almost blushing.

She laughed and moved down the bar. Jensen, like most guys in the bar, watched her go fingering the stem of his martini glass. She was a little on slim side for his tastes but the way her butt distressed her distressed jeans…

His eyes cut to the couple who had just walked in. The dark-haired one was familiar; big eyes, ready smile…he thought he had danced with her once. Sturdy girl, he thought…cute enough, but not in the same league as her lanky friend. He caught the blonde’s eye and to cover that he had been staring, tipped his drink to her. She nodded back as they settled at the end of the bar.

Corrine approached them and leaned in to take their drinks. She immediately fell into a conversation with the blonde. “Damn!” he thought. Oh well….His eyes returned to scanning the bar. Corrine slid past him to pick up a bottle she needed to make the girl’s drinks.

“Kendra says you’re buying her and Colleen their drinks.”

“Kendra?” he asked? “The blonde? Absolutely.” Then before she could slip away, “Hey Core, let me ask you….Would my having a dick be an impediment to dating the lovely Kendra?”

“Not necessarily, Jensen.” She answered. “Your being a dick might be…”

Outside Mike heard the quick tattoo of heels on brick and looked up as Kim Chen slipped under his awning. “Hey Mike”, she said. “What you reading?” He had already flipped the book onto its open face and she read the jacket. “Nice! I liked that…”

“That’s what you said. Tough getting started though…”he said taking her card and scanning.

“Hang with it”, she said earnestly. “It’s worth it.”

“You alone tonight?” he asked unnecessarily. Kim’s husband was never here during the week. In fact, he was hardly here ever.

“He’s traveling-think…Houston?” Her jet black hair was in a tight pony tail pulled away from the creamy perfect skin of her face and neck. She was comfortable enough to wear a snug open neck shirt that accented what were perfect but very tiny breasts. A leather coat draped over her shoulders opened to reveal what passed as her uniform, black stretch pants that hugged her thighs and he knew cupped the curves of her perfect bottom as if they were glued on.

Mike tried to stay away from married women. He didn’t trust himself not to fall in love-it happened often-and he feared the complications that could upset his well-ordered life. The only time he and Kim had spent together outside of The Club was when they both happened to be in the same 5K charity trail run. She had smoked him.

She was the only woman he would see tonight that cleaved his desires between wanting to see her bent over on stage and wanting to hug her tightly and protect her. Given that choice though, he wasn’t sure which way she would go. With Kim through the door, Mike stashed the book in his bag. Wouldn’t do to have Tina or John see him reading at his post. They would find something else for him to do. Or worse.

He looked up at the sound of banging and a loud “Whoops!” down by the dumpster knowing that his evening was about to get a little louder. Most Tuesday night regulars slipped by his station with a quick smile or a veiled look-away, not wanting to call too much attention to where they were going. These two always seemed like they were looking for the brass band to announce them.

It could be that they were fifteen or twenty years older than the rest of the house and if they hadn’t seen it all had seen enough to not give a shit. Or were, like tonight, a little lubricated when they got here. Or both.

For these two, Mike stood. “Good evening ladies!” he said with a slight bow.

“Mikey my darling” Bethany greeted him card in hand. “How are you this fine evening?” She was in her forties and wearing jeans which tugged at her in spots. Her straw color hair streaked with gray hung in a tight bob around her expressively round face. She didn’t wear much makeup-a touch of rouge on the cheeks-she had worked for the tiny crinkles that showed around her eyes when she smiled and she wasn’t about to hide them.

“I’m well, thank you” he said with an exaggerated propriety. “You look beautiful, as always, this evening.”

“Keep it coming, honey, keep it coming…”

He took her card and scanned it and reached to hand it back.

“Once more, Mikey…” she nodded with a smile.

Mike scanned again and returned the card cutting his eyes toward Megan. She seemed a little tipsy but, truth be told, she seemed that way sober. Jet black hair piled atop her head with tendrils cascading past her face she was at least Janet’s age but typically acted a generation younger. Her cotton blouse was a loud pattern of cranberry and silver open low enough to reveal just a touch of the deep shadows of her bountiful cleavage accented by a small silver dab on a thin chain. Her corduroys-a perfect fit seven pounds ago-pulled slightly across her middle but he figured that was by design-she knew how well her backside presented in the pants she wore.

“Hi Handsome”, she smiled her perfect smile. Yes, definitely more makeup than Janet but artfully done from the blue eyelids to the dark red outlines on her lush lips. Her eyes positively glowed as she focused a look on him that vaporized the alley and everything around them into a dim wet haze. Mike reached numbly for her card feeling a little quiver in his chest. It wasn’t the first time she had stopped him dead with a look. He had spent a memorable late night recalling her stare and the dark-for the sake of his fantasy that night-motivations behind it. He almost began to feel the memory of that night rising in him.

He scanned the card without pulling his eyes from hers.

“Christ, Megan” Bethany said. “You’re glamouring him…Release him from your power…”

They all laughed and Mike handed the card back and she immediately returned it. He twisted his mouth into a small grin and scanned it again. “Once more….” She said.

He scanned it again. “Somebody’s been naughty tonight”, he said.

“What do you mean, ‘tonight’?” Bethany asked with a laugh, sliding through the door.

Megan patted Mike on the cheek as she passed and followed while he made a conscious decision not to watch her bottom as she walked in. Instead he looked skyward where the clouds were breaking to spill the light of a crescent moon into his alley.

Foggy Morning



It was full dark when he awoke. He didn’t “wake up” because waking up required completion of a particular set of steps: opening eyes, rubbing eyes, sitting up, flopping feet to the floor and so on. The owl sounding back in the oak and the singing underlayment of the crickets told him that it was still deep night.  If he looked at the clock he’d be ruined so he kept his eyes gently closed and slipped back under.

When he next stirred, the dim light of dawn slithered through the fog and painted the room in shades of gray. He opened one eye slowly and, with his tongue, pushed the wet pillow out of his mouth. What the hell was that dream? He simultaneously couldn’t remember nor shake it. He knew he was being pushed down-someone was on him-holding him. He felt the weight in the small of his back and recalled the pain of someone behind him-above him really-slapping his ass. Slapping his bare ass while he bit down on….it was his pillow. It had to have been a hairbrush or a paddle-something-it hurt too much to have just been a hand spanking. He thinks he was alone in this dream. The night before last, when he was caned, there had been an audience.

The pain that existed only in his head dissipated as he became conscious of the true ache of his hard-on trying to burrow its way into the mattress. He rolled toward her side to allow it free range. That side of the bed was as empty as it had been for two months.

First, after she left, there had been the sex dreams; the coupling, lapping, sucking, teeth clicking and fluid swapping that had left him cold. In fairness, the sex with her had been fine but the dreams left him with nothing. Following within a couple of weeks were the conversation dreams which hardly interrupted his sleep at all. It was hard enough staying awake through her conversations when she was there in the flesh.

Now there were these pain dreams. And not just pain but punishment; whippings, paddlings, spankings canings…and humiliation. There were gigglers in the audience and people holding him down. He remembered smelling fire and women-more than a couple-talking about branding him as he lay tied on the ground. These were the dreams that were now bringing him the hard-ons. Where would this end? He feared the night when he would feel someone on top of him, crushing him-spreading his cheeks and…Christ!

He shook his head and sat on the edge of the bed. Outside the window the thick fog obscured all. He stood and grabbed his pants then paused wondering how he was going to get a pair of pants over that. Why even bother; there was nobody in the house but him. He bobbed down the hallway to the kitchen-a lone flag bearer in the most pitiful parade.

The coffee, on a timer, was brewed and waiting for him. By the time he had poured his first cup and added cream the dream had faded and he was well deflated. Things seemed to slip back into their state of abnormalcy. He stepped naked onto the porch and sipped his coffee listening to the honks of the geese growing fainter in the fog as they too flew the coop.