For Want of a Memory
Copyright© 2008 by Lubrican
Chapter 15
Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 15 - Kris just wanted to get to a quiet place so he could write his next book. He didn't know getting there would involve events that would make him the object of a manhunt led by the governor's wife, steal his memories and bring him together with the woman he'd been looking for all his life.
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Heterosexual Humor Spanking Interracial Oral Sex Petting Slow
Kris was thinking while he ate breakfast at The Early Girl. That he could think at all was interesting, because the place was packed and noisy.
The temperatures outside were still sub-zero, which brought about an interesting phenomenon. Most folks just wanted to stay in bed, where it was warm and cozy, on mornings like this. If they had to get up for some reason, a lot of them opted to just get dressed and then go to a warm, good-smelling place, where the food was prepared for them. It might have seemed odd to Kris that so many people would rather brave the cold, than fix something at home in weather like this, except that wasn't what he was thinking about.
What he was thinking about was what he'd written while he'd been the "midnight DJ" the night before. It was easy to think about, both because it was fresh in his mind and because the woman who seemed to be responsible for all the steamy scenes in the book he was writing was within thirty feet of him. Lou Anne was waiting tables, and ignoring him. She was involved in an intricate dance that carried her all over the diner, balancing plates on her arms, with only one hand free because the other held a coffee pot.
One of the scenes he'd written was directly related to Lou Anne. Sir Roger Quigley, while seated in a chair on the deck of "The Ugly Mermaid," had casually slapped the ass of a passing matron, one of his current bevy of captured women. The women were all put to work, scrubbing the decks or doing other "household chores" on the ship. The matron had turned on him in a rage, driven beyond her fear of the pirates who had captured her, and had attacked him. The scene had degenerated, in his opinion, into a situation where, while he'd subdued her, Sir Quigley had exposed her breasts. Holding her down, he had attacked her nipples with his lips, while she struggled and screamed and the interested crew looked on. Quigley hadn't done anything else but suck at her breasts, until she wore herself out, resisting. Then he had tried to kiss her lips, while she turned her head this way and that, avoiding him. In the end, though, she had fallen prey to his charms and ended up kissing him back. He had then let her up and she had meekly accompanied him to his cabin, where he thoroughly ravished her, to her eventual delight.
Kris had thought the whole thing was patently ridiculous as he wrote it. It seemed so laughable that he'd stopped writing at least four or five times, trying to figure out how in the world to add a little realism to the scene. The impossible scenario was supposed to encourage the woman's daughter, who'd watched her mother's forced submission, to seek Sir Quigley out voluntarily, lest she be embarrassed in public as well. Each time he had added to the goofy scene, it had seemed less believable. Especially because the crew of "The Ugly Mermaid" seemed more like that of the Pirates of Penzance than real pirates. It confused him that he could remember the musical, but not where or when he'd seen it.
He was still thinking about it as someone sat down across from him in his booth. He looked up from his plate to see Mitch Connel settling into the seat.
"Morning," he said, automatically.
"No place else to sit," commented Mitch.
Kris wondered if that meant the lawman didn't want to sit with a suspect, or if it was merely an apology for forcing his presence on a lone diner. He decided to take the middle road.
"You're welcome any time," he said.
"Well thanks," said Mitch, his eyebrows rising. "A lot of people don't have that kind of attitude toward me."
"Don't know why," said Kris. "You're just doing the job they hired you to do."
"Yeah, well, they all seem to want me to enforce the law on everybody else ... but not them." He grinned. "So, how have things been going? I hear you got a job."
"I did," said Kris. The fact that the man knew about that probably meant he knew what that job was too, so he didn't bother to elaborate. "It gives me time to write, in between duties."
"So, what are you writing?" asked Mitch.
"Be right with you," said Lou Anne as she breezed by. Mitch just waved at her.
"It's a romance novel ... sort of," said Kris.
"Sort of?"
"It's ridiculous and stupid and completely impossible," said Kris. "But it's what I'm writing."
"So write something else," suggested Mitch.
"I wish I could remember what I usually write about," sighed Kris.
"What if you usually write romance novels with completely impossible plots?"
"That can't be," said Kris. "If I had been doing this for a living, I would have put myself out of my misery long ago."
"It can't be that bad," said Mitch.
So Kris told him about the plot of the book and the latest scene in it. By the time he was finished, Mitch was smiling widely.
"Hell, I'll buy a copy of that one myself!" he exclaimed.
"You've got to be kidding," said Kris.
"Sounds kind of titillating to me," said Mitch, shrugging his shoulders. "It's every man's dream, to have access to all those women and to be able to control them and get whatever he wants, whenever he wants it."
"That's what makes it so stupid," said Kris. "Nothing like this could happen in real life."
"That's why they call it fiction," said Mitch, grinning again.
They were interrupted briefly by Lou Anne, who set down a coffee cup, filled it, and took Mitch's order before moving on. She didn't write anything down, only repeating it to Mitch, who nodded his head. She yelled something to Hank that was obviously some kind of code for what Mitch had ordered and got a grunt in reply.
"I don't know how the ladies will feel about your book, though," said Mitch, sipping his coffee. "I can't think of any women I know who would be into being subdued, in public, and then being led to slaughter like a lamb."
"I guess I'll find out tonight," said Kris. "Lou Anne will tell me if I'm off base with it."
"Lulu?" Mitch looked surprised. "You let her read this stuff?"
"She's kind of my self-appointed editor," said Kris. "Not that I mind. She's actually pretty good at it. I don't know how I can tell that, but I know she is."
"I'd think that could be very dangerous," said Mitch. "She's a very opinionated woman and her response to things she finds objectionable is legend in this town."
"She's the one who came up with the plot idea," said Kris. "A lot of what's happening in the book is because of her suggestions."
"You have GOT to be kidding me," said Mitch, his jaw dropping. "Our Lulu?"
"She's a very passionate woman," said Kris.
Mitch sat back in the booth, staring at Kris. "Brother, I have just GOT to learn more about you. You show up out of the blue, mostly dead, with a gunshot wound. You can't remember anything and yet, within a space of weeks, you have one of the most formidable women in town eating out of your hand, and are writing what sounds like an interesting book."
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