tagInterracial LoveSkeeter Bate's Great Escape Ch. 02

Skeeter Bate's Great Escape Ch. 02

bymikey2much©

Part 2: Skeeter in the Wind

Skeeter drove Mike’s truck down a narrow lane beneath a canopy of Spanish moss hanging from massive limbs. The predawn light was bright enough that the trees were casting shadows, the limbs’ rough bark becoming a texture you could see, a texture that her eyes seemed to enjoy caressing. Or maybe it was the drugs. It didn’t matter. She tried to lock the interplay of light and shadow into her memory, hoping to reproduce the texture in her next drawing. She loved to draw and had produced some nice paintings, not good enough to sell, but good enough that her friends hung them on their walls when she gave them as gifts.

Following the sandy road deep into the tall trees until she arrived at a small prefab storage shed within a fenced compound, where the sound of barking dogs ruined the morning’s peaceful beauty. Skeeter opened the gate and walked between two kennels with German shepherds bouncing off the wire as she passed. She knew that Doug knew someone was here, and he was awake by now, but she called his name as she knocked on the door. Not waiting on him, she opened the door and went inside.

It’s hard to lose your way in a ten by twelve shed. Skeeter didn’t need the light to find the bed and the man laying in it. “Hi Doug baby.” She sat toward the foot of the bed, found Doug’s foot, and let her hand slide up his leg to his balls. Lightly squeezing and relaxing her hand as she cupped them, then continued “What am I gonna have to do to get you to take me to town?”

Douglas Walker knew as he sat up in the bed and hit the light that his day was going to be special. He didn’t know the details yet but already he felt a sense of adventure. He welcomed the feeling. “What’s going on Skeet?”

Skeeter decided to just push the situation at Doug so fast that he would be swept alone by sheer momentum. “I had a big fucking fight with Mike. Look what he did to my hair.” She offered to hold it up for viewing as she spoke but being only three inches long it slipped through her fingers when she reached for it, which really pissed her off and made her performance even more realistic.

Doug listened with one part of his mind and with the other he thought through how much he could spend. Skeeter was like an exotic bird which flew to his house once and a while, he loved the time with her but she was a constant drain on his money. On the other hand he felt more alive as he took chances with Skeeter then any other time in his current life. What was that feeling worth? Once you are on the back side of sixty and don’t have any money your life kinda slows to a boring crawl. It becomes quite easy to see that your life is just a short path to a waiting grave. Skeeter made him feel like there was a bit of life left in him. That had to be worth something, hell that might be worth everything.

Skeeter scooped Doug’s cell phone up from the table and told him, “Hurry babe, I’ll be in your truck. Hurry.” And with that she was out the door, phone pressed to her ear as she searched her contacts for lori-tabs.

Doug was thinking as he pulled on his socks that Skeeter was a creature totally unique from anyone he had ever known. She lived her life on a rollercoaster, going from one extreme to the other. Knowing she was fucking up when she did the shit she did, but she expected bad things to happen to her anyway, so she didn’t care. Whatever the price she was ready to pay it before she changed her lifestyle. You couldn’t melt and pour him into her lifestyle and yet he knew that she would not tolerate life lived any other way. She was a pirate, trapped in a woman’s body and in the wrong century to boot. He grabbed his keys and hurried to follow her to the car before she went wild on his cell phone minutes.

Skeeter opened the door for him when he reached his pick-up and slid over just enough to let him get behind the wheel. Smiling her sexiest smile, she asked, “How much should I tell Reek we want?”
“That is up to you. I’ll buy us a twenty, but if you can get me off before we get to town, then I will go for a forty.” As he spoke he unzipped his fly and pulled his hardening cock out.
“I guess that I need to get to work then,” she said as she lowered her face into his lap.
Doug had been sound asleep, lost in a dream that now he couldn’t remember, and then alone came Skeeter. Waking him up and dragging him out before sunrise to get drugs and to avoid her three hundred and fifty pound insanely jealous and hair-triggered violent husband. He wondered if he was crazy to be going with her, just another old fool with a young girl, a mark in the con game of life that women have been playing for centuries. At the same time she had his dick hard as rock and ready to shoot, giving him feelings he hadn’t enjoyed in years, except when he was with her. He felt alive again and that was worth a little risk.
Skeeter had earned the forty, and swallowed the results long before they reached town. She sat up, gave him her biggest ‘ain’t I a good girl’ smile and slid close beside Doug, resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes and relaxed. It had been a long night and she was tired. Her left hand held and stroked Doug’s cock even though it was softening rapidly. She did it in such an absent minded way, it made Doug wonder did she play with cocks, like some people twist strands of their hair when they were nervous? The thought put a smile on his face.
They turned off the paved road onto an old single lane sandy trail. Even though it was just breaking daylight, three older kids sat on bikes watching them as they turned in. Doug drove half a mile to a small run down shack. Two other cars sat in front of the house. Doug parked as far from the other cars as possible and handed over sixty bucks to Skeeter. He got a ‘ain’t you sweet smile’ and she turned and briskly walked to the front door of the little shotgun shack.

That was the thing with Skeeter; she did such a good job and seemed to enjoy herself as much as he enjoyed it. It was well worth an extra twenty. The door revealed nothing but darkness inside the building as it opened a raggedly dressed man stepped out crossed the yard and got into one of the other two cars and drove away.

The next person through the door was a young woman, maybe thirty or so years old. She walked to the other car and opened the door. Doug could hear children talking to her as she got inside the car. She must be taking her kids to school and stopped by the dealer’s house on the way, Doug thought as she drove away. Soon thereafter Skeeter stepped back out into the glare of the early morning sun, the dope in her hot little hand and a smile on her face.

The ride home started off with silence filling the truck. Skeeter had the six rocks spread out on her thigh and was sitting rigidly straight and staring out the windshield, her mind somewhere only she could go. Doug knew that with anyone else she would be hitting up right now, but months ago he had asked her to wait until he was home to hit it when she was with him. Doug felt it was stupid in the extreme, to be driving down the road with somebody lighting a crack pipe. He took it one step further, no stems at all in his truck. If you had to, you can eat the crack rocks but a pipe will get you busted. Bottom line no hitting up in the truck. Surprisingly, she had agreed and never pushed the issue again.

But she was withdrawn and into her own thoughts more than she usually was today. He knew how tough she was, but even tough girls need a friend sometimes, and he wanted to be that friend. He started to speak and then thought that having Skeeter for a friend was a lot like having a rattlesnake for a pet. He was afraid to trust her and he couldn’t really be a friend if he couldn’t. He let the silence remain unbroken until they pulled up in front of his shed.

Skeeter scooped up the crack and opened her door before the truck came to a complete stop. She dashed to the shed and disappeared inside. Doug forced himself to walk at a normal pace as a way to show a little trust in Skeeter. When he walked into the shed she had already dumped the crack rocks on a mirror and stuffed about a nickel hit in the end of the pipe which she was offering to him with the lighter.

Doug let her stand there with the offering in her hands while he reached over the TV and retrieved a black leather collar with a small open padlock in the back. “I think you should get into uniform,” he said as they traded the items. He threw back his head and brought the pipe to his lips, sucking the flame into the end. The sizzle, of the crack as it fried, filled his ears as he drew the silky smoke deep into his lungs. Holding the toke he watched as Skeeter slipped from her clothes and locked the collar around her slim neck. When she was naked and collared he passed the pipe to her and watched as she rolled it between her hands and blew on it, trying to cool the glass tube enough to reload, her actions causing her breasts to shake and shimmy.

He reached over her head and took a deck of cards from the shelf, while she took her hit, he shuffled the deck and dealt two hands of five card stud and waited until she was ready to play. They were sitting on the bed the cards on the quilt between them. Skeeter sat Indian style, her ankles crossed, her legs spread, and her pussy winking at him. She picked up her cards. “What’s wild besides me?” she asked

“Nothing” he said and then followed with, “you gonna tell me what the fight was about?”

“Same old shit, Mike was being an asshole about everything. I made some money and he figured that half of it should be his. When he makes money he don’t save any for me, so why should he think I’m gonna save him some of my money?” She threw three cards down. “I’ll take three cards.”

Doug could tell that she was just hitting the high points of what happened. Skeeter was as shrewd as any lawyer when it came to leaving out whatever might make her seem guilty of any wrong doing. He dealt her three cards; put two on the table for himself. “Dealer takes two,” watching her over his cards, he asked, “How much money?”

The naked and collared young lady seemed to be lost in the cards as she studied her hand. Doug thought she was beautiful; he loved the days when she would come over. They would have sex and then play cards and talk until the crack was gone, then like a hummingbird she would leave him and move on to the next flower. Finally she answered, “A hundred and fifty dollars.”

“What does that mean? Is that how much you made and didn’t split? You telling me that Mike got so mad over seventy five dollars he cut your hair like that?” Doug knew a few things about Big Mike, one was that he was a big, mean, stubborn, stupid, redneck, and he loved Skeeter.

Acting as if she hadn’t heard him, Skeeter laid her hand face up on the table. “I got two pair Jacks over fours.”

“Beats a pair of sixes.” Doug tossed his hand onto the table. “You ready for another hit?” Reaching for the pipe and taking a rock from the mirror, he loaded it and fired it up, drawing a long hit.

“OK, let me just tell you what happened and then I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Her green eyes watching Doug’s face for some sign of agreement that there would be no more questions, she waited. Doug let the silence hang in the air until he finished with the pipe and passed it to her.

Reaching for the stem she spit it out. “OK, I spend the hundred and fifty that I made and then when I left the house after he cut my hair I took what was in his pockets, two hundred and ten dollars. If I had wanted to talk about this shit I could have stayed home. What’s done is done. He shouldn’t have cut my hair.” Choosing one of the largest chunks of crack she loaded and hit the pipe.

While she hit the pipe Doug had time to consider what she had said as well as to think about what she hadn’t said. Big Mike had to weigh three hundred maybe three hundred and fifty pounds, Skeeter weighed a hundred maybe a hundred and ten pounds. They had fought, knives were involved, and now she had all his money and his truck. He let her finish blowing out her hit and asked, “Is Mike okay?”

Skeeter laughed as she picked up the deck of cards and started to shuffle them. “You know that crazy bastard had been drinking Jack Black since yesterday afternoon, I mean he was pretty fucking drunk when the bottle ran dry around eleven and he had to start drinking beer. He was pissed about the money I spent so he was threatening me, so I started to spike his beer with my pills. The big bastard was so pissed off that he wouldn’t relax. The pills couldn’t get a grip on him. I finally had to give him a blow job to keep him still.” She was picturing it in her mind and it made her laugh. “I bet I sucked his dick for forty five minuets at least until they got into his blood.”

This sounded closer to the truth, Doug was impressed as well as a bit repulsed by the matter of fact way Skeeter was telling of how she had betrayed the man she had married. He felt his dick start to harden again as he thought about the way she had used a blow job as a weapon. She looked so sexy naked with the collar. She was dealing poker while she talked and her breasts swayed as she dealt the cards across the bed. She had really nice looking breasts with nipples relaxed and withdrawn into the pinkish brown of the areolas.

He picked up his cards as she dealt them, checked them to see what he held, all the while paying attention to what she was saying. “I wound up using all my pills and still didn’t put him down long enough for me to get out the damn door. So I hit him up side the head with a six-pack, well maybe a five pack, anyway it only stunned him. He still managed to hold me and cut my hair before he passed out.”

“Did you come straight here?” Doug asked, his eyes going to the corner where his shotgun stood.

Skeeter had seen the fear in Doug’s eyes; the old fart was figuring that Big Mike was on his way. While it would be interesting to see if he might ask her to leave, she decided to give him some relief. “Don’t worry, I ‘m sure Mike is down for the count. No way he’s waking up before ten or eleven this morning.” She watched the face of the old man relax a bit. “But, to answer your question, no, I went to Diane’s place and she took me to Reeks, we got a hundred rock. I was soaking wet in beer and only had on a Tee shirt. I had to get some dry clothes and think about things. We killed an hour or so before I came here.”

Doug took off his pants and shorts; stepping toward the bed he pulled his T-shirt over his head. He spooned behind Skeeter, his arm encircling her waist, he fingers stroked the remains of her once beautiful red hair. He felt her let herself flow against him the way that a woman can do. It made Doug feel proud to be there for her, to be her man, even if it was only for a short time. “Well since it sounds like your old man is going to be pissed off anyway, I think I gonna fuck his old lady. What do you say; think you can earn another trip to town?”

Skeeter rolled over, her face inches from his own, eyes locked onto his, she reached with both hands for his cock.

“No baby, I want to put on the rest of your uniform?” Doug took her hand and helped her roll over until Skeeter lay on her stomach. She put both her hands in the small of her back and held them in place. Doug secured each wrist to a silver chain with heavy duty cable ties, weaving the excess through the chain so the ends wouldn’t be jabbing her. He then unlocked the small padlock that held the collar on and slipped the chain over the lock before re-locking the collar together again. He gave her a playful slap across the ass, “OK now let me watch you suck my dick.”

It was a bit awkward but Skeeter managed to scoot down the bed trailing wet kisses on his body as she went. She knew he was in no hurry so she laid her head on his stomach and sucked his cock like a baby with a pacifier. Sucking dick was like riding motorcycles, it gave you time to think. While her mouth was full of Doug her mind was full of Mike. She figured he might be coming out of his sleep any time now. She tried to figure where he would go first, while she earned her next ride to town. She picked up the pace as an idea formed in her mind.

Doug felt his dick grow as Skeeter blew life back into it; if he was going to get in that pussy he was going to have to stop this pretty damn quick. He pulled her sucking face from his dick. “Okay, Babe get up on your knees, ass in the air, head on the bed.” Skeeter assumed the position, while the old man got up and came around to mount the bed behind her. “You are one fine looking woman Skeeter. I think your little pussy is the best looking one I’ve ever seen. You should paint me a picture of it, I’d buy it that’s for sure.” He didn’t say it but what really impressed him was how nice and wet she was. Doug pushed inside finding her hot and ready. He knew she was just a whore but by God she sure made her own juice and women couldn’t fake that. Could they? He really wasn’t sure but he liked to believe that they couldn’t fake everything.

He had two things he had come to believe was true about women and sex. One, they couldn’t fake juice. Two, their toes curled when they came. After sixty-five years, three marriages and one longtime shack-up, that was his total understanding of women.

Skeeter felt him when his orgasm started to rise and she started to get louder in her cries. His breathing was ragged and heavy, peppered with grunts. She began to match his sounds with her own, both of them rising in intensity. He grabbed her arms and used them like a handle to lever himself into her body. Damn, she thought, the old fart was fucking her for all he was worth. Her hands behind her back, made it hard for her to do anything but take it, but she cried out encouragement, and pushed back on his rampaging cock. As the big wave of his orgasm swept through him, she could feel him swell inside her. She felt the hot fluid as it sprayed her insides. She squeezed down on the dick and cried out. She didn’t say anything, just made a noise, kinda like expelling the air from your lungs and then instead of stopping you kind of let it turn into a soft moan. Guys loved it.

Doug had his eyes opened when he came and he just happened to be watching her toes when she seemed like she was coming. They did not curl under. They stayed relaxed and straight. He could hear her orgasm in her cries but her toes told another tale. He was an old man, he knew that, and he knew she was a young woman. He was no fool but he wished she could’ve fooled him a little better. Then again what man knows when his woman is fooling him? Maybe the fact that the woman cared enough about her partner’s feelings to try and fake her satisfaction should be what is important.

Even as the thought passed through his mind he could feel her clinching her muscles like a woman who had just cum. She did it very well too, if he hadn’t seen her toes he would’ve thought he had done a fine job of fucking the girl. In reality she had done a fine job of fucking him. His bubble had been popped, the feeling had changed. Before he pulled out he reached to the shelf by the bed and got the nail clippers. He cut the cable ties holding her hands and unlocked the collar. He rubbed her back while his dick softened inside of her, but he could feel her impatience building. He pulled out and lay across the bed spooning with her again, arm around her, something had been bothering her all morning. He lay beside her and waited for her to tell him what was wrong.

After a moment she rolled over to face him, for a moment they just lay there looking in each others eyes. “I think I’m gonna leave Mike,” she said.

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