Thad Gunter slept late and woke up hungover; two things that rarely ever occurred, much less at the same time.
The curtains on the window in Room 7 were slightly ajar, allowing a single beam of sunlight to penetrate the room like a knife slicing through his retina. On the table below the window he saw an empty bottle of Johnny Jogger laying on its side and two glasses next to the empty ice bucket. He was still trying to piece together what had taken place the evening before, but the facts were slow in coming. His head pounded and his mouth was dry. He barely detected the movement under the covers next to him. That is, until whomever it was reached over and grabbed him by his erect manhood and whispered something about him waking up just in time.
The woman’s novice and aggressive tendencies helped fill in some of the blanks. Glancing over at the chair beside the table, Gunter was able to make out the name tag on the blue cotton frock and more details became clear.
Gunter had headed over to the Lucky Lady Lounge after the encounter at the terminal at the Fort Stockton Regional Airport and Feedlot. He needed a drink and time to sort out the situation. Hank had kept the drinks coming in an effort to find out what Gunter was working on. The drinks provided a welcome relief from the pressures of the job and numbed the reality of finding out just how deep Mayor Goodman was in attempting to thwart the plans of The Consortium. Although he didn’t realize it, Hank was giving more information that he was getting.
It was two hours later when the woman came through the front door at the Lucky Lady. She’s obviously just gotten off work. It didn’t take her long to zero in on Thad Gunter. New men didn’t often show up at the Lucky Lady. When one did, he stuck out like a diamond in a goat’s butt. They were usually taken by this point in the evening. She considered herself fortunate and sauntered over to the bar, unbuttoning the top two buttons on her frock as she made her way past the jukebox.
“You’re not from here, are you,” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“No, but it’s starting to feel like home,” he replied. “Thad Gunter.” He reached out his hand. She took hold of it, gave it a firm shake and held on to it slightly. She seemed to be sending him a message.
He took note of the signal and locked on to her eyes with his own. She looked like a woman whose mild mannered exterior probably belied a cauldron of sexual turmoil. He’d seen the type before. Not common with a lot of broads, but when one was discovered, it was not a situation to be disregarded. One drink led to several and before midnight the sexual tension between the two of them was stronger than even the alcohol. Gunter settled the tab with Hank while his new friend went to the ladies’ room and freshened up before they went out to the Eldoradanenetal coupe for the quick trip to the Naughty Pine.
“This is quite an automobile,” she said as she settled into the beaver pelt upholstery.
“I haven’t even tried all the options on this motor car,” Gunter informed her. “Would you like to be the very first to experience the ‘Summer’s Eve Kitty Splash-O-Rama’ option?”
“I’ve only ever heard rumors,” she said. “I’d love the chance to see how it works.” She repositioned herself slightly while Gunter reached over and pushed the Mother-of-Pearl button just to the left of the cigar lighter. What followed was an experience that she would remember for years after and he would be grateful for back at the motel.
As Gunter lay there, all the details coming back to him from the night before, a smile broke out on his face. Looking up at him, she took credit for the smile and assumed it was a result of what was taking place under the sheets. She quickly proved to be as ambidextrous as she was creative.
“As grateful as I am for your handiwork,” Gunter said, rolling over. “It’s time for you to get what’s coming to you, Mrs. Drury.”
What followed was an hour and a half of the most rigorous physical pleasure of Mrs. Drury’s life, dating back to the time before Mr. Drury was still here on earth. Resting her head on Gunter’s chest, Mrs Drury whispered into his ear, “I thought I’d be dealing with vaginal dryness the rest of my life. I can’t believe what you are capable of.”
Gunter lit two Chesterfields at once and handed one to her. He placed the gold colored glass Naughty Pine Motel ash tray atop the six pack of his abdomen for them both to make use of. They took turns flicking ashes. The silence of the moment was broken only by the light rapping at the door. Thinking it was Vern attempting to perform housekeeping duties, Gunter said, “Not now.”
“It’s important that I talk with you,” the male voice said on the other side of the door. It wasn’t the sniveling voice of Vern. Gunter didn’t recognize it.
“Who’s there?” Gunter asked, reaching for the weapon on the Nightstand.
“Becky sent me,” the voice replied at a slightly higher pitch.
Gunter got up from the bed, grabbed a towel from the bathroom and went to the door. He opened it and saw a young man standing there. The man glanced at Gunter, then looked into the room behind him. “Mrs. Drury? What are you doing here?” He thought better of the question, embarrassed, while Mrs. Drury pulled the wrinkled sheets up to cover her exposed breasts. Chad noted it must be cold in the room.
“Good morning, Chad.” She said in a voice that was deeper and throatier than he was used to.
“Let’s step outside.” Gunter said as he guided Chad and the conversation to the parking lot just outside Room #7.
“You need to come with me. Goodman probably has a tail on your car. Even if he doesn’t, it’s too easy to spot. We have to start being more careful. I’ll take you to meet Becky out at the Proving Grounds. She’s waiting for us.”
Gunter stepped back into Room #7 and pulled on the clothes that Mrs Drury had clawed off of him the night before. Luckily none of the buttons had been ripped off in her crazed attempts to get to the prize that was waiting for her. Chad waited outside, contemplating his Assistant Manager in a whole new light. Gunter crawled into the passenger seat of Chad’s Chevron El Gabacho pickup truck. Not one to normally ride in such a utilitarian and coarse vehicle, he was taken aback at the rudimentary nature of the cabin.
“Is this upholstered in burlap?” He asked.
“Imitation burlap,” Chad told him. “They call it Sackcloth. It’s made of recycled disposable baby diapers and repurposed seaweed. It’s part of the ‘Broken Dreams Package’. I had to get the package to get the AM radio.” The Bronc-Buster four cylinder engine seemed to be struggling to keep up with the speed limit, despite the fact they were headed downhill.
“Indeed.” Gunter didn’t know what else to say.
“Have you and Mrs. Drury been…friends long?” Chad asked.
Gunter always made it a rule to not discuss female companions and attempted to change the subject.
“Of course, it’s none of my business. I didn’t mean to be nosey.” Chad sensed that his question may have been inappropriate. “It’s just that after Becky told me about you I had thought about trying to fix you up with my mother. She’s in town now doing some artwork out at the airport remodeling project. She works magic with mosaic tile.”
Watching the dry Southwest Texas scenery pass slowly by, Gunter marveled at just how small of a town Fort Stockton was.
2 responses to “THE NEXT ASSIGNMENT, Chapter VI”
Man! As the Plot Twists, I either need a Better Memory or These Stories Need an Index…
No worries. It will all be over tomorrow.