Chapter 3

It is now almost a full decade after my adventures in the desperate shit-holes of the world. My depression is following me like a strange black dog robbing me of sleep and filling my mind with thoughts of regret for so many sins committed that I fail to remember them all.

I am sitting here in a dubious restaurant in San Antonio, Texas waiting for the server to bring back my steak cooked the way I ordered it. At first, the waiter was reluctant to admit he must have misunderstood my order correctly or as a fall back option blame the cook for sloppy work habits. Finally a female manager came to his rescue and promised me I would get my steak the way I wanted it as quickly as possible.

My female companion of the evening had taken a powder looking for some hard stuff and was probably bored with my company because I can be a real prick when I am in a forgetting mood about things I didn’t want to remember in the slightest.

The supervisor came back with my re-conditioned steak and it was absolutely delicious. She told me her name was Penny and that was short for Penelope. I tried my best not to smile because I know some people are deeply offended if people find their name amusing making them feel less cool about their place in the center of the universe.

She wasn’t particularly attractive but she was well-dressed and her boobs were impressive even if hidden inside a modest frock of the blackest black material I had ever seen. It was in direct contrast to her milky-white skin that advertised she was not one of the South of the Border recently arrived transfers looking for the American Dream.

She was tall even in her sensible flats and had to be at least three inches taller than me although I was just shy of six feet tall. The name plate on her slightly sheer top said, “Penny - Supervisor” leading me to believe that there was more than one Penny employed in the restaurant.

Her perfume must have filtered across to me because I was hard as a rock thinking about that sweet space between her legs and what it would look like spread open for me in a welcoming position.

She must have sensed my dirty thoughts because she looked off into the distance with a blank stare and was suddenly blushing as if she was having a similar thought about what I was packing down there below the waistline.

When we resumed eye contact, I could see the question in her eyes. “What are your plans for my pussy, you nasty prick?”

Of course, that led to my question delivered in my most charming way possible, “I am in room 201 in the Hospitality Inn across the street and would love to show you my collection of Southwestern Native Art that you might find interesting after your shift is over.”

She nodded her head without responding and I got the general impression she would be knocking on my door real soon and it wasn’t for viewing my collection.

When she got up from the table and walked away, my eyes were focused on her rump which was perfectly heart shaped with a nice little shelf for her twin globes of ass and a delicious little gap in between that shifted the soft material up and down with each step that she took. It was seductive and modest at the same time confusing the issue but not causing my cock to go down anytime soon.

My erstwhile female companion came back and she had that muted look in her eye that told we she had scored big time on the hard drug option and all she wanted to do was to fuck and get the lousy date over so she could find her boyfriend or girlfriend and either suck cock or eat pussy for the rest of the night without me in the picture. She had told me her name was Candy and that she was over eighteen but I seriously doubted that considering her immature attitude. In all honesty I didn’t give a rat’s ass what her age was as long as she was a reasonably good lay but her attitude was such a turn-off, I just passed her the fee and told her to “Have a nice night, Honey.”

Then, I walked across the street back to my little hideaway room with the thick blinds to hide the blinking neon lights on both sides of the street. I was really careful crossing that crowded street which was sorely lacking a pedestrian crosswalk and had no stop lights as far as I could see in either direction.

I was determined not to be a traffic accident on a dark street in fucking San Antonio because I wanted to discover Penny’s secret between her legs that had that same high class French perfume hiding under her doubtless sexy undies that I imagined she preferred.

Sure enough, about ninety minutes later there was a light tapping at my door and I sensed her lack of confidence about her risky slide into the murky depths of lust in the nocturnal hours.

She asked me in a timid voice, “Is it all right if I took a quick shower? This last eight hours has been pretty stressful for me.”

I poured us a pair of stiff shots and watched her get undressed with the bathroom door wide open. She didn’t hide anything from my view. I saw her shocking black muff with the wild curly hair in a thick bush which I loved so much. I had always thought that girls with wild bushes screwed the best of all and that they usually were wetter than me before we were done humping for that first tingling pleasure running up and down one’s spine as the juices were running from both sides.