Mind Caviar Fiction

TigerLilly has retired from school teaching, prostitution, politics, AIDS counselling, a short stint as a card-delivering Gorilla and professional Dominatrix, and now grows tomatoes and flowers. And writes, of course. She has published work under her real name, L. Hampton, and is currently working on a collection entitled, The Vampire of Porcinia County and Other Short Stories.

Laverne and Albert
& the Wild Buckaroo

by TigerLilly

Laverne poured coffee into the heavy white mugs for the couple staying in cabin 2. She looked at them from behind her thick lenses, trying to make sense of it all.

Had the raucous lust noises coming from Cabin 2 last night (and louder, this morning before sun up) possibly come from these two? She had awakened Albert, her snoring husband, with a sharp elbow to his ribs.

"What? What?" he grumbled sleepily.

"Listen, Albert," she hissed. "Shhhh. Just listen!"

Albert propped himself up and felt for his glasses on the night stand. Silly old fool, thought Laverne. Has to have his specs on to hear.

"Listen!" she demanded.

"Dear God Almighty," Albert muttered. "Hooooodawgies! Yes sir, some fella is sure getting him some prime pussy in Cabin 2! Lord, just listen to 'em!" The girl was almost screaming and there was no mistaking what she said.

"Fuck me! Fuck me hard! HARDER!! PLEASE!"

Albert glanced at Laverne, and she looked back at him with wide eyes.

"Did you ever hear such a ruckus?" she whispered hoarsely.

"Well, not since '83 or '84, whenever it was them Shriners stayed here. And then, it was just mostly a bunch of old drunks hollerin' and carryin' on. No, mama, I don't believe I ever did hear such! Lordy, they're goin' at it, ain't they? Who is that?"

Albert searched his memory of recent arrivals, trying to recall if a young couple or perhaps honeymooners had checked into the OK Motel.

"It's that married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Jones. You know, the skinny man with the curly hair and the chubby redhead!"

"Naw," said Albert. "Hell, Laverne, they're damn near as old as us! And ain't no old married couple gonna make noise like THAT, no ma'am, not like THAT."

Next door, in Cabin 2, the unrestrained sex sounds were even louder. "Oh, my fucking GOD!" The woman cried. "Give it to me! All of it! PLEASE! Hurt me with it!"

Lord, thought Laverne. That curly haired man must have a dick on him the size of Montana. She felt a stirring deep between her legs, a sensation she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Albert strained to hear, his mouth agape. Jesus H Christ, he thought. That guy must be up to his nuts in that redhead’s ass! No other way to make a woman squeal thataway. Lord, just imagine what that must be like, a tight squirming ass gripping your hard love pole. He felt a stirring, too.

"You know what they're doin', don’t ya?" His wrinkled mouth widened with a knowing smile.

"Well, of course I do, Albert. That man is doing it to his wife, that's what! Any fool can tell that."

Albert grinned. In forty years of marriage, he had never heard Laverne use the word "fuck." "Doing it" was her euphemism for any kind of sex, not that she was familiar with any other kind but laid out on her back with her knees grudgingly spread while Albert lay atop her, doing his manly duty, a duty that had earned them four kids and seven grand children.

"Naw," he said. "That ain't no plain old sex they're doin… just listen to her."

Laverne cocked her head and listened carefully. The woman did seem to be in something close to pain. What in the world?

"And I'll tell ya somethin' else," Albert whispered. "Them folks ain't no more married than the Pope and Mother Theresa! Shit, fuckin' like that, they just met, is my guess."

"And what is it, exactly, you think he's doin' to her?" Laverne was titillated, in spite of herself.

Albert leaned close to Laverne's ear and whispered something.

"Oh, my dear Lord Jesus in Heaven, shut your nasty mouth! Albert! Shame on you for thinkin' such a perverted thing! I NEVER heard the like!"

But, as if on cue, the man in cabin 2 growled, "Hold still, baby… I want you to take every inch of this dick in that sweet little asshole."

Laverne gasped in disbelief. Dear Sweet Jesus, she thought. Did people really DO that? And the woman, she seemed to be enjoying it plenty, if the sobbing pleas to "Ram it! Hurt it! were any clue.

As the lusty shrieks in Cabin 2 reached a crescendo and abated to softer sounds, Albert reached for her, with a look in his eyes she hadn't seen in many years. Laverne heard the red-haired lady laugh warmly and coo something to her lover.

That woman must be crazy about him, she thought.

And there was Albert, groping at her ample rear with lust in his old eyes.

"Get away from me, you old fool! What's gotten into you?"

Albert was undaunted. "It's what I'm fixin' to put into you you need to be worryin' about, Laverne. You little Sugar Britches, you!"

"Sugar Britches!?"

Lord, he hadn't called her that since their first child had come along. She smiled and couldn't help blushing a little.

"You're my Sugar Britches," he used to whisper into her ear, late at night in the darkness.

Again Albert sought the warm expanse of Laverne's round bottom, squeezing hard. Laverne felt a rush of pleasure from deep inside as she turned to face Albert , her one and only, the love of her life.

She went into his arms and marvelled briefly at how well they still fit together. She rolled onto her back, pulling him atop her. As she opened her legs to receive his surprisingly hard cock, she blushed again in the darkness, gathering her courage. And when she spoke, it was quite clearly, and directly into his ear.

"Fuck me, Albert. Fuck your Sugar Britches hard and long."

Copyright © 2000 L. Hampton. All rights reserved.

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