Always Finding Trouble - Cover

Always Finding Trouble

Copyright© 2009 by Dual Writer

Chapter 67

Action/Adventure Sex Story: Chapter 67 - Chuck Johnson. his "Job Hunt" over, is now a Deputy U.S. Marshal. His life is pretty complete with his six foot seven, three hundred fifty pound girl friend and a good life. He keeps finding trouble though but battles back against the bad guys. See how he handles several tough jobs without a lot of bloodshed but it can't last. Chuck and friends meet a lot of people you know that live in the area. (Some chapters have more sexy scenes than would be considered "some sex.")

Caution: This Action/Adventure Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa  

I was up before six. All of us had breakfast and were loaded on the aircraft by eight, in Washington by ten, and home by noon thirty. I drove the men to the station and went up to see Wanda.

When I came in, Conish and Angie both got up and hugged me, saying that they were glad I was all right. I went to see Wanda, she shut her door, and she hugged me and said, "I knew you were going to be in danger and I just knew you were going to be in front. You did lead and you were hurt. You had to get an artery stitched, that's more than a scratch."

"Wanda, it was a lucky round that I didn't even feel. I'm fine. Dave will tell you."

"Dave already told Sarah he had to make you sit down while he called a corpsman. That's why we worry about you, you don't quit. He did say it was only a very minor wound and that made us all feel better. Now go write your incident report then go home and relax."

When I was finished with my reports, I asked Wanda why my in-basket was empty and there were no e-mails. She said, "By order of your favorite Marshal. He called me personally, not his secretary or John, the man himself called and told me to make sure you went home and stayed there. I told him you were flying to Atlanta to party this weekend and he told me to find out where to see if he could party with you. Do you really want that guy partying with you in the places Lisa said you are going to?"

"Tell him the truth. If he shows, he wants to party. If he brings his ole' lady, he really wants to party. He is a cool guy, I like him."

I called out to the air park to see when Lisa was going to be in. Star said Lisa was shutting down outside right then. I asked her to have Lisa call my cell. I called Brandy and asked, "Ask Metarie if you girls can get out early so we can head up to Atlanta tonight instead of tomorrow. We can get in an extra evening of fun."

Brandy got excited, "I'll ask. We're not busy today at all. She'll probably let us go. I'll call you back."

Lisa called me and I told her about possibly going up tonight instead of tomorrow. She was all for it and said we could eat supper at Peaches, her Mama's restaurant. She said she would meet me at home.

I asked Wanda, "Want to go to Atlanta early, like this evening? We'll eat supper at Lisa's favorite place, Peaches, and play it by ear from there."

Wanda said, "I'm game, but you better call Tina. She wants to go too. I can leave early and have Angie and Conish lock up. I called the Marshal and told him the names of the two places we would be going to. The afternoon and evening at Pops, then an all-nighter at Rags on Saturday night. Should I tell him you're going early?"

"Naw, tonight will be for Lisa."

Brandy called to tell me that all the girls were heading home to pack. She promised they would be ready in a couple of hours.

When I said I was leaving, Wanda had her desk cleaned up and left with me. On the way downstairs, she said, "I called John and he's coming with us. Will the plane hold us all?"

"As long as we don't get too crazy with the luggage. I'll have the instruments and amps plus some clothes. I'll wear nice slacks, shirts, and sport coats while there. Might as well impress the people with clothes."

We were all packed and ready to leave the house by three-thirty. Out at the air park, we had to unload the vehicles and park them in the regular airpark parking lot as we had three cars out there.

When we totaled up the weight, we were just a little under the max gross weight. As I was checking the weather, Lisa said, "I told those music promoters we were going to play tomorrow night at Rags and he's setting it up to tape and record it live. He said he has already talked to Rags about it and had been given the welcome mat. You know this could be something, don't you? We do make a nice front for a group. If we were to get some tunes together, possibly some originals, we could be flying ourselves around on tour. That would really be cool."

"That's all good, Lisa, but look at this line of storms. The tops aren't that high, but our ceiling isn't that high in the 1900 either. It's going to be bumpy as hell up there. There's no way around unless it's by way of Little Rock and they have thunderstorms with higher tops there. Maybe we should wait till morning."

Lisa pulled the forecast and saw that it was going to be worse throughout the night all the way through early Sunday morning. "I guess we go, but we better get some barf bags out. This might be hairy."

"We're okay, I've flown this one through some tough storms, and to think of it, this is one of the planes the weather service uses for storm penetration. Let's get up in the air before it gets worse."

We got everyone loaded up and told them that this wasn't going to be the most pleasant flight they've taken. John told everyone, "Lisa and Chuck are two of the best, so don't worry, I'm not concerned.

We were barely an hour out when we were in the soup. It was boiling soup too. It was rocky, but not as bad as I had anticipated. We broke out about the time we were descending to land in Atlanta.

Once on the ground and parked, John told Lisa and me, "You two were great. I watched you and you both were handling the plane like pros. You were both attentive to the yoke the whole way never letting it go, always feeling what the plane was doing. It didn't get too bad and you were smooth enough, no one got sick. If I were your rating official, which I am, I would rate both of you well above a good pilot. You two did well."

Lisa and I were proud to hear such compliments from a professional, with thousands of hours and millions of miles, such as John.

We rented a couple of minivans, loaded up, and headed to the hotel that was close to the neighborhood we wanted to be in. Atlanta is no different that any other city. One street is beautiful and luxurious, while only a block away the landscape is totally different, raw, dark, and scary.

We were a block away from Peaches, two from Pops, and only several blocks from Rags. After stashing our clothes and most of our gear, Lisa pulled out two classic electric acoustical Gibsons and said, "We have to play for Mama, and we can hook up at Pops to play a little for him. He'll like that. He might teach us a couple new pieces we can spring on Rags. Pops writes constantly and always has something new.

We walked to Peaches and were welcomed the same way as before. The huge woman enveloped the diminutive Lisa in her arms and big bosom, hugging her as only a mother can. She ushered everyone to a huge table set up for us. She had Lisa and me sit on opposite sides of her, while she sat at the head of the table. When we were seated and food was put in huge bowls on the table, she said, "My Lisa's man will ask for grace now. Hold each other's hands."

Okay, I haven't done this in twenty years or so. I said a prayer that my dad had always used, strong, brief, and meaningful. When I said "Amen," Mama gave a soulful "Amen" as well. Lisa smiled up at me and mouthed, "Thank you."

The food was great. Mama had fixed some of the best baked pork ribs in greens I've ever had. She had just the right amount of salty ham pieces to make it all taste great. As we were finishing, she said, "Pops knows you're here and wants you to stop in this evening for a while. Before you go though, you have to play for me. I see you brought your boxes, so just sit right here and duet me."

Lisa and I played some gentle soul and blues pieces that we knew Mama would enjoy. Mama sat back in her chair with her head back, eyes closed, humming with the music. Sometimes she would erupt in song as the music moved her. When Lisa and I stopped, she leaned over to me and gave me a big kiss and did the same to Lisa. "My, oh my, you two are made for each other. I sure hope you two have found each other in bed. That's probably the hot spot on this earth when it happens. Oh my goodness, you two move me."

Mama's outburst made Lisa and me both blush. This made Mama all the more boisterous and happy.

Mama looked at me and said softly, "You take care of this here little girl. She's precious to me and I want her with a good man. You have to overlook her penchant for little girls, but I'm sure you know that. Just play your music and you'll be making music together."

We all left to head down to Pops. This time when we walked in, the bar was very busy. Pops was sitting at his piano with a cigar in his mouth, his hat pushed back on his head, staring at a handwritten chart in front of him while tinkling on the keys.

Pops' lady, Nancy, saw us first and hollered, "Little Lisa, you did come after all. Pops, your Lisa is here."

Pops swiveled around on his stool and stood to hug Lisa. The love shown was very genuine. As soon as Nancy and Pops had hugged Lisa, and Nancy had given both Lisa and me a hug, all the patrons settled back down, getting rid of their instant hostility toward a bunch of whites moving in on them. Pops pointed at some classic amps behind his piano, told us to drag up some chairs, and play a little with him.

We went through a bunch of fairly stock blues tunes with Lisa and me adding only a few riffs here and there. Lisa said, "We'll bring the good boxes tomorrow afternoon and do some good stuff. You need to show and teach us some of your stuff, Pops. We could use some of your originals to show off a little."

Pops said, "I have two for you two just for tomorrow. Those recording men are going to be here for a while in the afternoon and I want us to do them together. I have a couple more that I have all the music for, so you can do some Pops originals over at Rags. The man has heard them and wants them bad. Let's practice these two I wrote just for us. Tomorrow, Chuck here might play his bass on this first one. The other you can get a lead in and sample for the rest of it, then play the guitar with Lisa."

Lisa and I went through the music with Pops about four times before we got the feel he wanted and we began to go from there, adding in some extra flavor in the open bars for highlights. Pops was nodding and smiling and saying "Amen" then "Amen, brother" the whole time. The second song was obviously a really crusty blues piece. It twanged and wailed with lyrics that were marked, Pops, a little later, Lisa, then a little farther, Chuck. There were even duets with Pops and Lisa, Lisa and me, and Pops and me. The piece highlighted all three of us in harmony. I said, "Man, you have a lot of faith in a guy to think I can sing that."

"My Lisa says you sing, she says you sing pure blues sos I writes you a pure blues soul piece to unleash on the popsulation. Now sing boy."

We went through the piece instrumentally several times, until we were able to begin becoming naturally inventive with some riffs. Then Pops began the lyrics followed by Lisa, sounding more like Mama Cass Elliot than the original. When it was my turn, the man did write words that came from me as if I were born in black and blue. By the third time through, the bar was hollering and applauding. You would have thought they would have gotten tired of the repetitious way you have to learn a piece of music.

Pops turned to me and said, "Now you know what your Lisa can do. Dig up that old Mama Cass stuff and let her wail. You'll have people crying in the aisles. Rags will have her doin' it over there. You two can do this one over there and let that bum sing with you in his gravely voice. Now, let's go through the two pieces I wrote for his place. I got lots of brass and sax in it. Real Chicago style stuff. But this is Atlanta, we be better than dem northern folk.

We paused for some refreshment which meant coffee and water for Pops, Lisa, and me, as we wanted to remain sharp to learn the new stuff.

We were another two hours before we had the last two pieces down and Pops had us do all four together, one after the other. It was fun and I'm sure entertaining for the patrons. They wouldn't be here if they didn't like Pops' music. That's what the place was, a haven for blues freaks, players, and listeners alike. When we were done, Nancy, Pops' wife, came over and asked, "Can you do the Summertime Rags was telling me about? He says you really did it up blue. I love that piece and used to sing Lisa to sleep with it when she took her nap here in the afternoon so many times."

Pops did the lead in with the piano and Lisa did a solid rhythm background, letting me pick the lead with Pops. After the first time through, I sang, without benefit of a microphone, but loud enough to be heard. The music always moves me to give it my all, and I was wailing on the guitar as well as with my voice. The song is strong enough to bring tears to eyes of blues lovers everywhere. There was a long hush over the patrons when we finished. Not even the clink of a glass, then all of a sudden a lone clap that was followed by more and more applause and yelling. It was too much, as I had enjoyed it as much as they had.

Lisa gave me a kiss and Pops shook my hand. Pops said, "I want you to do that here tomorrow. You can do it over at Rags too, but you have to do it here. There's going to be a sax man here that will sit down and cry when he hears you. His daddy used to sing like you do, and I know he'll just cry. He'll want to adopt you, but you be a little too white for him. Now, let's play some happy stuff."

Pops started playing and singing Sweet Georgia Brown. Soon, the entire bar was singing along and continued as Pops played song after song that was popular to sing along with. I looked at the big clock by the door and saw that it said it was two o'clock in the morning. Where did the time go?

I looked over at the people we had with us and they were mixed in with the regulars, having a great time. I asked, "Are you guys ready to get to bed? Tomorrow's going to be a long, long, day and night."

There were mostly "Aw, do you have to stop, do we have to go?" John smiled and said, "This has been very enlightening. Tomorrow is going to be even more fun."

Pops said, "Come by about two or three. We'll play till nine, ten, something like that, then you can get something to eat before going to Rags. He won't really get going until one or so. But be ready, there's supposed to be a crowd there to hear you two. He's been talking you two up like you were a couple of rock stars. We'll have the recording people here first then they will be over at Rags. We told them no heavy lights so we don't get too hot and they said they would use the low light cameras at both places. The guy said it should make it look and feel more authentic. They done been here earlier doing sound pressure measures so they knows their stuff."

Pops gave Lisa a kiss and me a hug and a handshake. "You two have a good night and make some more music." He gave me an exaggerated wink and whacked me on the shoulder as Lisa and I picked up our guitar cases to leave. Damn, right on the stitches.

Back at the hotel, Wanda and John split off to their room and the Fab five, Tina, Lisa, and I went to a big room with two king beds. We all stripped down and washed up to get the bar smoke off us. We needed a shower, but were all too tired. I was paired with Lisa and Brandy with Tiani on the outside of Brandy. The other girls were snuggling playfully in the other bed, still high from the excitement of the music and the strange environment of the blues bar.

I thought I was sleepy, but Brandy reminded Lisa, "Mama said you two were supposed to make music tonight in bed. You can't go to sleep without making some music together. Then you two have to make some music with the rest of us too."

Lisa and I did make some nice music that was easy, smooth, loving, and full of kisses. After that, Lisa, Brandy, and Tiani were only sort of making music. When Frieda snuggled up under me, holding me deep in her while giving me a real, a very real kiss, I woke up again and began making some more music. Nancy was next and was able to nurse a second load from me, telling me I might be making a baby; that almost crippled me. But alas, there was still Judy who was very loving, and when I was laying limp from her energetic coupling, Tiani began sucking me up and said, "One more, Stud. You need to play a duet with Tina too.

Tina was very loving, and Brandy and Lisa drove her over the top as I gently thrust into her. As she clamped down on me in her final throes, I actually came one last time. When I rolled to the side, Tina wouldn't let me slide out from her and kept her legs around me, holding me in. She said, "I love the way you make me feel. So full, so loved. Brandy, I'm gonna keep him."

Brandy said, "I think we'll all keep him."

That's the last I remember.

I woke up really needing the potty. I had to pee badly. I slid from bed and made it to the pot to let loose a torrential stream that lasted at least fifteen minutes. At least it felt that way.

On the way back to bed, two things distracted me. Actually it was three as three girls were in the other king size bed, and the covers were pulled down displaying Nancy, Judy, and Frieda. With Nancy in the middle, I had to chuckle as it was a reverse Oreo. The other bed was now the same with Tiani between Brandy, Tina, and Lisa. Knowing I shouldn't, but had to, I grabbed my cell phone and snapped pictures of both beds. They were all darling. I would be happy to spend the rest of my life with these seven.

Now where did that thought come from. Mr. Conservative, thinking of keeping seven? Well, five wouldn't be around all the time and the other two liked the fairer sex as much as I did. Oh well, I wonder if there would be enough of them to at least have one a night that wanted me, a guy.

The other thing that distracted me was the clock. It said ten thirty. It was past time to get going. I turned on the TV to the music channels, found some twangy country, and cranked it up loud enough to get complaints.

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