Chapter 177: Clothes Make the Slut

We did indeed go to the Cowboy's B&G. We sat with the sandwiches on the table. I shared mine with three or four other people. Bernard did the same. By the end of the sandwiches we had made more new friends. Mostly they were women who hung out to get tips from Bernard, and to tease him about his open gayness. Now and then one smiled at me, but I decided to be cool at least for a while longer.

We got back to my place before 11PM. Neither of us was ready for a repeat of the night before. We did sit and talk for a short time over a Canadian Club and Ginger Ale. I learned more about the Reality TV Network. Reality TV was the cheapest to produce. The owners not only paid the stars shit wages, they also paid the craft people very poorly as well. So most of their craft people were burnouts and new hires right out of college.

"You said before that Earl was a burnout?" I made it question.

"Earl was a hot shot right out of college camera man when they flew the planes into the world trade center. He shot images for the local pbs station. None of the film ever got used, it was too graphic. He never really got over it, they say. Rising star at 23 burned out at 25."

"How about you, anything big in your past to put you on the Reality Network's payroll?" I asked.

"Yeah, great sex with the wrong people," he said laughing. "I mean that seriously."

"Oh I don't doubt you, most of my really good sex was with the wrong people," I said laughing at myself.

"Ain't that just always the way it is. Most of them I never heard from again. You know can't afford for the wife and kids to find out," he said.

"Yeah same with me, wife, kids and one even said I bored him," I laughed until I was ready to cry at that.

"Yeah that is the worst," he said.

"I have finished my drink and I'm exhausted. I'll see you in the morning. Are you coming along for my morning routine?" I asked.

"Absolutely," was his only reply.

I lay in my bed on top of the covers and thought about some of the wrong people I had screwed. High on that list had to Jen and her Husband. Never ever have sex with your friends, especially both husband and wife at the same time.

My hand slipped into my panties as I remembered Jens hot breath against my lips while Bob worked his cock in and out of me. It had been a marvelous feeling and I flooded her bed that night. The huge wet spot most likely belonged to all of us, but it was very cold and wet. No one noticed until it was over. We all agreed that it was time to move to a different room. We slept all huddled up like a pile of puppies.

My body was beginning to get slippery as I rubbed my clit remembering Jen and Bob. Then I remembered the preacher and his cock inside me in the wrong place. It wasn't the first one there, but he had been ruthless as he plowed my back entrance.

My body was responding to both the manipulation of my finger on my clit, and the memory of the preacher forcing his cock inside me over and over. The nerve ending that controlled my rear channel were confused since the movement was all wrong from their experience. In the confusion I remembered doing what I was doing at that very moment. I exploded into an orgasm, which Willy or Earl could see. I just plain didn't care.

That orgasm helped me to fall instantly asleep. I didn't lie awake trying to figure out why I was always alone in the end. Nor did I try to improve on my plan for James Smiley, I just drifted into the oblivion of sleep.

The next conscious thought I had was that I needed a shower badly. Not only did I smell bad, my body was sticky from the dried sweat. I slipped into the shower at 6AM. Bernard was sleeping soundly and I was glad. I got the coffee started before he stirred.

"Shit, I'm sure I smell like bad sex and cheap perfume," he said. I was pretty sure we had done the same thing that I had, but to different memories. Well maybe the memories were similar after all, I thought.

"Well take a shower, and we will head out to breakfast," I handed him a cup of fresh coffee as he passed me. He got the fresh coffee. I got coffee warmed over from the day before. To be perfectly honest, I like the strength of day old coffee better than fresh.

Since I had Bernard in tow, I drove the cruiser. As we entered the door to Helen's Sit Down. Mike Dawson was leaving. "Well hello there. Where is that cute little bike of yours," he asked.

"It's not cute. It belonged to a Marine Gunnery Sargent," I informed him stiffly.

"Sorry, " he said simply.

"It's okay, I have a guest today. Bernard, this is Detective Mike Dawson. Mike, this is Bernard. He is one of the most famous makeup men in the world." Sure it was an exaggeration, but what the hell. I paused a second then changed the subject. "How the hell did you know about the bike anyway?"

"I have been asking around, since we don't see you much these days." he admitted.

"Well, I'm here almost every morning," I replied.

"I know, that's why I'm here. I got to tell you after one sandwich here, I would come back even if there was no chance that I might run into you." he said.

"So, can you come back in and have a cup of coffee?" I asked.

"No, I got a convenience store holdup to go investigate," he said. I was surprised to fine that I was disappointed.

"Well tomorrow then," I said.

"It's a date," he replied as he headed to his car.

"Cute guy, now lets go eat. It's warmer here, than New York, but not warm enough to stand in the parking lot chatting," Bernard said.