Dusty 01

[Another lightning strike, but a little off center]

"Your lips are such a deep shade of red, Dusty."

Well, I'm sure that my cheeks were flushed with bright red, so.

"And now your lips are a tad shiny, Jason, from the lip smack transfer, so?"

Well, I never wiped a guy's lip clean from lip gloss before. And I had hoped that not everyone had saw that action either.

[Swish, swoosh, swish, slide, bump]

"Aww baby, there's some action happening tonight then!"

"Shush Timmy and you know, go away."

"Ahh no, Dusty! I have things worked out where you're riding center seat with Jason and myself as we ride around and translate the GPS coordinates into which tree is the correct moon dial placement spot, so, stop fighting it and get on board with it, Dirty Lil Dust Bunnie!"

"Timmy, that's just stupid. Mrs. Bentley said that I have to ride with..."

"Ahem, Mrs. Bentley is my favorite auntie and she needed me as a side sex cover story just a few moments ago! So, what part of "I don't care that you suck off Jason right next to me in the front seat" don't you understand then, Dusty, hmm?"

Folks, I swear, there are a few things that I do understand! I mean, not about sex, but still.

But what I did understand was, WTF, right? When I glanced over at Jason, I mean, he just shrugged his shoulders as if to say that happens all the time! I mean, I understand that stuff happens all the time with the people who hang out on the Middleton Strip or go through the fast-food drive-up windows or at college and all, but seriously, that almost, almost turned me off. I think. Or I was overwhelmed with naughty and dirty sexual thoughts.

"Timmy, you need to stop being so kinky and Jason, you need to get with the loading of the moon dial stands and Timmy, did you seriously just say that?"

"And make it sloppy and noisy, Lusty Dusty, with a lot of moaning and groaning and slobber and drooling and move your body all around across my front seat too!"

Again, Jason just shrugs his shoulders and smirked? Um, update, I was turned off and needed to walk away from that. I mean, why the hell I walked towards the restroom hallway was beyond me, but my head was spinning a little bit, so, that's what I did.

Not that I understood what I was supposed to do once I arrived in the hallway entrance.

"Psst! Where is storage room, prissy missy? Connie Clarke just texted me and said she has a stud who got two blow jobs on the way here and he is performing without blasting off, so?"

"Mrs. Peterson! Shame on you! But you're looking exceptionally nice tonight, so?"

"Oh, and what part of "my hubby has been limp dicked for years except for his fag friends" don't you understand then, huh, Dirt Pile?"

Fine, I ordered the e-book!

But to my relief, I think, it was a trade off situation with no sex in front of a third person because it was only a few moments later that Mrs. Clarke emerged from the hidden storage room hallway and looking quite disheveled, I must say. Which, by the way, I understood to be from a good session of making out and some form of sex. Tee he, I read the cliff notes and the endnotes as I ordering the e-book on things that adults need to understand.

And again, disheveled or not, wow, what a set of staggering and swaying hips!

"Ahem!"

"Oh, Dusty, whew, I owe you one big time! Come to Ladies room with me and wipe down my thighs, hmm? You can use your tongue and go as high up as you want too."

See folks? Things are easier to understand when they are clearly communicated. But I definitely didn't understand what female sex juice and male sex juice might taste like when combined. Although, that was never one of my dreams because I've never been kinky enough to think of that.

[Clump, strap, clump, strap, clump, two moon dials loaded and strapped down in the distance]

Um, well, I didn't really say yes or no, yet.

"Well, I mean, at least fix your disheveled hair, Mrs. Clarke. Your hubby has just spotted you and he has probably been wondering where you disappeared too, so?"

"Oh, shoot, um, well, point your little boy butt and lure him towards the Men's room and side step him and meet me in the Ladies room, sweetie. Oh, and snatch Mr. Peterson on your way! That will keep those two faggots busy and distracted!"

"What, wait, what, Mrs. Clarke?"

"OMG, what part of "your boy butt will draw their attention, but then they will somehow slip into the Men's room together" don't you understand, hmm?"

Well, the e-book on things to understand had a two days delivery, so.

"Excuse me, um, missy, um, the wild jungle hair looking lady who was just here, um, was that my wife, Connie, huh?"

"Oh, I mean, Mr. Clarke, it was your lovely and almost faithful wife, Mrs. Clarke, but, um, but, um, ooh, there was a wild breeze down the alley and I think she blew it hard and you know lady's and their hair, right, tee he? They can't be seen until it's sexed, I mean, fixed, tee he, so?"

[Clump, strap, clump, strap, clump, two more moon dials loaded and strapped down in the distance]

"So, just who are you then, huh?"

"Oh, I'm Dusty and I'm actually a friend of your nephew, Jason. He's just over there flexing his muscles while loading up the ceramic moon dials under Mrs. Bentley's supervision, so?"

"Oh, I'm glad to hear that you understand what means when a man flexes his muscle towards you, so?"

[Boink, flex, throb, flex, throb, um, flop, flop, flop maybe]

Ahh, ewe, Mr. Clarke just stood there, ewe, with this glare on his face like he just pulled the golden ticket! He did not have the golden ticket. He was nearing his golden years, but that's all the gold he had going for him that evening.

"Ahem, you're a little old for me, Mr. Clarke! Besides, what would your nephew say, hmm? He might be my weekend boyfriend and he's probably going to get mouth sex from me later tonight, so?"

"Aha, aha, aha, tell it, Dirty Lil Dusty and tell it dirty, aha, aha, aha!"

"Oh, and his friend, Jason, wants to be right there watching like the kinky little bird that he is, so?"

"Aha, aha, aha, and where is your butt while you leaning forward then, Dirty Lil D, huh?"

"Oh, exposed and probably twerking the Jason the driver, I suppose. I mean, if Jason wants a sloppy blow job in front of his other friend, I mean, what else would I do with my butt then? I mean, some guys just like to whack it off between a couple of slices of cake, right, Mr. Clarke?"

"Aha, aha, aha, are you available for a Sunday afternoon dinner soon, Dirty Dust Cloud, aha, aha, aha? We're having cake for dessert."

Well, I once laid across my couch during one of my promiscuous moments and I do sort of remember my butt wiggling around a lot during that moment, but that's all.

But I understood that it was time to walk away! Quick! Again! I mean, "aha, aha, aha" comes with a certain of drool and weird sex eyes, so.

And pushing Mr. Clarke and his golden noodle into the Men's room was exactly the same as walking away. I mean, I found it to be somewhat comfortable leaning up against the wall nearest to the Men's room.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what part of "this is Men's room" don't you understand then, huh?"

Oh, I have absolutely no issue showing my bulge. I mean, it's not much of a bulge, but it's there and almost noticeable, even in my Denim jeans. Besides, all I had to do was to give it a quick glance down since my Misty shirt was so short anyways.

"Well, well, well, am I on lucky street then, huh? Who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Dusty. Not Dirty Lil Dusty, not Dust Cloud and not Dirty Lil D, I'm just Dusty, Mr. Peterson, so?"

"Well, let's get with this then, Dusty. Or is there a part of you standing in front of the Men's room while dressed like this that you don't understand then, huh?"

"Oh, I understand everything now, Mr. Peterson! The question is what part of your golden years buddy, Mr. Clarke, is in serious need of your old man nectar don't you understand, hmm?"

"Clark? Clark Clarke? What the hell would a prissy sissy like you know about Clark Clarke, huh?"

"Oh, I know that Mr. Clarke is horny for the same reasons that you are and I know that you are crying inside to whack off your limp noodle into his mouth, so?"

"[Gulp]"

"He will not resist, Mr. Peter Peterson! He wants your sour nectar."

"[Gulp]"

Well, I'm not the one who made the tendency announcement, so. Either way, that worked. And I wasn't being cruel. I assume the taste sours over time. Besides, Mr. Peterson took it as dirty talk, I think, because wow, he silently slipped into the Men's room almost as soon as I finished saying that.

And I silently slipped into the Ladies room. And I wasn't even mad that I was too late as Mrs. Clarke had already cleaned herself up. And I wasn't mad that she allowed me to watch her last two swipes of her thighs and I'll never be mad if my thighs get that full someday.

"Well, do I have to say it, Dusty, hmm?"

"Oh, you mean what part of "we're not doing this all in the family thing and since I finger tapped you and tasted you and then gawked over your creamy thighs as you wiped them down that Jason is now off limits" don't I understand then, Mrs. Clarke, is that it?"

"Well, I would have said less words, but I still owe you one, so?"

See? I understand a few things. Besides, I just said how turned off I had become from Timmy's kinky statements and Jason's shrugging of his shoulders, right?

Anyways, what I would like for you to understand is that I never entered the Men's room. And I had no idea what Clark Clarke and Peter Peterson were doing in there, but I do know that whatever it was, it carried on after the ceramic moon dial stands were loaded and strapped securely in place for transport and that Dirk was totally sex wrecked. Which actually made me feel a little safer. I mean, we still had to transport and properly place the moon dials in their exact spots and make sure that the center moon thingy knob pointed directly due east, right?

"I owe you big time, Dusty and I'll never call you Dirty Dusty ever again! I'm sexually wrecked."

Oh, I added the Dirty Lil Dusty, Dust Buster, Dirt Pile and Lusty Dusty to his off-limits list as we talked too. And I added all that through his open window since I wasn't riding shotgun with him anymore.

"Well, um, listen Dirk, um, well, Mrs. Franny Franklin just mentioned that she has 15 years of experience with the proper placement of the festival moon dials and that she has 20 years of experience with limp dicks, so, um, since her hubby, Frank Franklin just slipped into the Men's room, so, she's waiting for a quick horn beep or a headlamp flash to signal that you will follow her in your rig and you know, end her night of being horny is over, so, Dirk?"

[Beep, quick headlamp flash]

Well, I'll never understand how normal guys can do that, so.

[Boink, pulse, throb, boom, boom, throb, one more fling throb]

"Tee he, I'll see you around, Lusty Dusty Bunnie!"

See, folks? Loaded trailers clank and clink so much less, right?

[Beep]

"Jump in, Dusty. You can't be mad just because I expressed myself. Besides, if I'm not mistaken, ahem, you need a ride anyways, so?"

Well, maybe I didn't think everything through well enough, right? Oh no, not about leaving myself stuck at the Civic Center without a ride since I hooked up Dirk and Mrs. Franny Franklin to make their side sex ride, but for jumping into Timmy's truck!

In between him and Jason, who was, damn it, still just shrugging his shoulders at the possibility of a blow job in front of his friend!

Which did not happen. Well, not in this first chapter anyways.

End Dusty 01