My Old Kentucky Whore

The Picnic

Sunday morning, I think. When I first wake up, I have no idea where the fuck I am. I pick up some matches on the nightstand. La Quinta. I am in a room at a La Quinta. Where? Why? Jodie. It comes to me like a tidal wave knocking me over in the ocean. I am going to see Jodie. I'm outside of Louisville, maybe three hours away from her. 7 a.m. I haven't been up at 7 a.m. since I started working at home. I look out the window and the world is bustling. Good for them.

By my second cup of coffee I have lost my sleepiness, replaced with excitement and nervousness. She is sweet and kind in her emails. Damn sexy too. Some were really downright steamy. Who the hell knows—are her words lies? The pictures? Are those her breasts, her girlfriend's, a download from nicetits&pussy.com? When you never think you will meet, you can say anything. My pictures were real. I lied about my age a little. I get in the car and get going.

A fresh May morning. The rolling pastures of the horse farms are soothing and beautiful. Foals prance next to their mares, jockeys in brightly colored silks gallop past trainers with stopwatches timing the speed of their fantasies: The one big purse. South along I-75, I pass the sign—Corbin, Next Exit. But I'm supposed to get off at Highway 25W, she said. Something about Cumberland Falls State Park. I'm beginning to feel like getting off now and then turning around and going back home. I don't need this. No, I don't. I want it desperately, though.

I'm to meet her in the parking lot of the DuPont Lodge in the park. She said she would pick up a picnic lunch and we could eat by the falls. No, not a motel. God, no, not her house. Look for a red Chevy SUV. I swing into the lot and I know her right away. She's standing, leaning against the car, and yes, that's a wicker picnic basket in her hands. She's looking to the side so she hasn't seen me yet. She is my picture of the South—not the old South, not hoop skirts and ruffles and bonnets. She wears a filmy pale-yellow linen dress with a black sash and matching yellow sneakers. A pale-yellow wide-brimmed straw hat with a black band covers her head. My heart races. She turns, sees my car, smiles the sweetest smile I've ever seen, and waves. Relax and be yourself, I say. What the hell am I doing here? I pull up next to her car and lower the window.

"Would you be the foxy Ms. McNamara who goes online to pick up Yankee guys?" I ask. God, Michael, great opening line. Couldn't you show a little class, some panache?

"For making love next to a river, in a van, under the stars, in the rain, in a swimming pool, on a beach, in a dressing room, inside an empty church late at night, and...you know, anywhere! With the right guy!" she says, a throaty drawl to her voice. She reaches her head through the window and kisses my cheek. "You the right guy?" she asks, and then laughs. I don't know. I sure as hell want to be! Or not. I get out of the van and she puts the basket down. We look at each other and I feel a spark. Her eyes twinkle, her cheeks glow, her body radiates energy. I put my arms around her and pull her to me. I feel her hard nipples against me. I kiss her and feel her succumb, as though she's been like an overly starched cloth gone limp from my heat and humidity. I become lost in our kiss. All I feel is her: her lips, her tongue, her hips to mine.

"Mmm, I like how you Yankee boys say hello!" she giggles.

"Hungry? Let's walk to the falls and have lunch."

I pick up the basket and we leave the parking lot and head for what is called the "Niagara of the South." The park is spring green—vivid, lush, awash with the scarlets and crème-yellows of azaleas and the heady aroma of magnolias. Blooming dogwoods brighten beneath the canopy of pin oaks and maples. As we walk the narrow path, I follow behind her, cannot take my eyes off her. Great legs! I follow them up. The material is filmy enough I can see her thighs, blurred. She has such sexy hips that curve beautifully into her waist. I think she is wearing yellow panties.

I hear the falls before I see them. The sound of roaring water is one of the sexiest in nature, I think. So primal and raw. It is the sound of passionate love. We stand on the observation deck and Jodie places her arm around my waist, pulls me to her side, hugs me. We look in silence. No, it is not Niagara by any stretch of the imagination, but it is damn impressive. Her arm around me feels so good. I want to make love to her right here, right now.

She leads me down a path for a while and then off the path, through the forest. We're in the woods, farther away from civilization. Where is she taking me? Is this where she takes her lovers? Jodie's Treetops Motel—I'll Leave the Light On for You? We reach a clearing beneath a stand of pines, the smooth needles providing a thick, soft bed. She reaches into the wicker basket and unfolds a lightweight, dark-green blanket.

"Sit. Relax!" she says, smiling. She kneels on the blanket and removes things from the basket. A bottle of white wine, corkscrew, two crystal glasses. Grapes, strawberries, cheese, sausage, bread, napkins, silverware, plates, cutting board, knife, brownies—God, I think, where are the candles and strolling violinist!

"Incredible!" I say to her, practically speechless.

"It's our first date! We can't eat in town. We can't eat within 50 miles of Corbin! Everybody knows everybody around here."

"No, I mean, it's lovely. Romantic. Thoughtful. Sexy. Shall I open the wine?"

She unwraps things and sets them out. I pour the wine. It is the color of her dress. Whatever happens, this will always be Jodie's color in my mind until I die. This will always be my day with Jodie until I die. She sits across from me, legs tucked under her. The filtered light, the dark greens, or maybe it's just her soul makes her skin glow, her voice purr, her movements graceful. We each still wear our wedding rings.

"Let's not make a toast to us," I say, trying to sound light. "I wouldn't know what I would say. Let's just toast each other." She clinks her glass to mine. "I drink to your happiness. That you find what you need, though you don't know what it is."

"And I drink to you," she counters. "You've found a little corner of my heart where I'll always keep you. Pretty impressive for a cyber-lover!" We drink and lightly kiss.

I eat not knowing what I am eating. I cannot take my eyes or my mind off her. I swallow her in small nibbles. How her hair curls beneath the brim of her hat. Her dangling earrings. The pale rose of her lips. Her firm breasts, nipples barely outlined. The hint of cleavage. The hem of her dress has risen high on her thigh. They are, indeed, yellow panties, sexily outlining her shaven cunt.

"You're staring," she says, mouth full and laughing. "You've seen one before, haven't you? I mean, you are a daddy, right?"

I turn the color of one of the strawberries she holds in her hand. I start to apologize. She reaches to me.

"You wouldn't be a man if you didn't!' she says. "Besides, I like it, your wanting me, your feeling that I'm sexy."

I kneel in front of her and reach for her hat and toss it aside. I pull her down on top of me and we roll off the blanket onto the aromatic pine needles. My heat releases their fragrance. We roll again and I rest atop her, pinning her beneath me. I start grinding my hips to hers, feeling her breasts, my mouth covering her lips. She begins to struggle against me, resisting my kiss and my hands on her wrists.

No!"" she grunts. "No! Did I tell you I wanted this? It's a date, not a roll in the hay!" I pin her wrists again, lay all my weight on her, use my legs to still hers, kicking against me.

"I am going to have you!" I growl. "I drive fucking 500 miles here, then tomorrow fucking 500 miles back. Told the big lie to my wife! I didn't come here for the waterfall or the goddamn brownies! I came here to meet you and now I want you and I'm going to have you!"

Her cheeks go white at my lust. I don't care. I let go of her wrists and she pounds her fists against me, wiggles to get from under me. She begins to shout and I cover her mouth with my hand. I straddle her stomach and begin unbuttoning her dress.

"Yeah, go ahead and be a cock-tease! Dress like you want to be fucked, act like you want to be fucked, talk like you want to be screwed. But when it comes time to get fucked, you play your Saint Little Girl role. Not with me, bitch! You're going to get what a cock-tease is supposed to get! Fucked! Hard and hot and fast!" She is strong and hard-bodied, but she is going to lose this battle.

Her breasts are exposed now and I lean forward and consume them, suck them deep into my mouth, swirling my tongue around her hard nipples. I go from one to the other, bite her nipples until she squeals softly. "No" she keeps saying, but each protest makes me hotter and harder. I strip off my shirt and rub my chest against hers, undulating my breasts to hers.

"You want to be a Sunday slut, don't you? You went to church this morning, prayed to God Almighty, squeezed your husband's hand at benediction, then dressed to get me hard while he watched TV. Told him you were going out with the girls and bought a fucking picnic lunch! What did you expect? You want me to pick a bouquet of wildflowers, give you my best Opie 'Aw-shucks, ma'am' look, and kiss you on the forehead?" I finish unbuttoning her dress and spread it open. Her hard stomach pants. Sweet Jesus, she is hot!

I stand and walk to what's left of our picnic, grab the bowls of strawberries and grapes, and return. She stands and tries to run away but I grab her arm and pull her hard back down to the ground. "I'm going to fuck you extra hard for that, Bitch!" I kneel between her legs. She's whimpering or crying or...I don't really care. My shaft is so hard and my lust is so hot.

I reach for her panties and rip them off. She jerks from my strength. "Spread your legs!" I order her. "Spread them or I'll do it for you!" She bends her knees and spreads her legs slightly.

"Wider, Slut-Bitch! I'm going to have my lunch! I like my fruit with a little honey." She reaches up and slaps my face. Yeah, sure, protecting her honor. Give me a break. She set this up. "Oh, Daniel, come to Kentucky where we can finally meet and hold each other," she wrote in an email. I look at her pussy, so wet now. First, I place a strawberry to it and its chill shivers her. I push it in with my thumb. A grape next, then another berry, another grape, and on and on.

I suck each piece from her, chew it, let the juice run from my lips onto her, and then lick it from her. She pushes my head away but I will not be denied. As I eat her and from her, I reach and squeeze her breasts, rub her nipples with my thumbs. I hear the low rumble of thunder in the distance, a slight chill of a breeze. I sense the intense mood of water in the air. Her skin puckers. I suck on her clit as hard as ever, nibble at it, feel her squirm under me. She tries pushing my head away again, and I pin her wrists to the ground. More thunder. Closer. I hear the trees brush their leaves against each other. She bucks her hips up to my lips, grinds against my tongue.

"You want to cum, don't you?" I say standing up. "You say no, push my head away, then shove your cunt against my face!" I kick off my shoes and pants. "You can't have it both ways! You can't say no and yes!" I kneel between her legs and lean forward, extending over her body like a blanket, the head of my rock-hard cock against her cunt, pressing against her. I see the flash of lightning, hear the thunder soon after, rumbling like a wounded animal. I kiss her hard, thrust my tongue deep into her. She reaches one arm out and then I feel the point of the knife at my neck.

"I could kill you right now. Just flick this knife and slit your artery. Watch you bleed to death here. Everyone would call me a hero. Yeah, man from Chicago tries to rape local woman. Stabs him in self-defense." I feel the knife point pierce me in a sharp jab of pain. More lightning flashes and we both jerk from the crash nearby. I feel it begin to rain. I raise up slightly and see a trickle of my blood flow down the shiny blade and onto the handle. It reaches her hand, clenched tightly to it, rolls over her knuckles, and hangs in a drop from her hand over her mouth.

"You can't kill me, Jodie. You won't kill me!" Drops of blood fall from her hand to her lips. She licks them instinctively. Lightning hits a nearby tree. The flash and crash shuddered my body and I jerk and my cock pushes inside her. She gasps and drops the knife and licks my blood from her hand, and then embraces me to her, pushing me all the way inside her, her legs wrapped around me, her breasts heaving against me, her lips completely over mine.

"Oh, God!" she pants into my ear. "Yes, fuck me." The sky opens and we are drenched in the Kentucky rain. We cannot touch each other enough, kiss enough, I cannot get inside her enough. It isn't enough for just my shaft to be inside her I plunge my tongue deep in her mouth. I grab her, pull her to me, our legs twisting against each other so our flesh is in as much contact as we can. As the rain pours on us, steam arises in little humid clouds.

She meets each of my thrusts. I grunt as my hips slam into her. My balls ache from slapping against her. I rise on my hands and press my pubic bone against her clit. She jerks and grinds it against me. She raises her head and licks my neck, where she cut me. It stings. I see my blood again on her lips and tongue. I pull on her shoulders and grind into her, pump cum into her. Then I cum. My entire body becomes like a rigid rock and I feel my seed spurt out from me, hear my own groan of thunder. She holds my ass hard to her. I fill her. Then, she shudders. Starting from her hips I feel her quake up and down through her legs. She stretches out, arches her back, cups the rain in the palms of her hands. She wraps her legs around my waist and clasps my chest to hers, pulls me hard to her...and holds. She shivers like a small animal.

"Ssshh!" she whispers and then she holds her breath. All I hear is the rain, and then her, exhaling and still shivering. It is all still. For a long while. She pushes me off her, rolls from under me and stands. "Shit!" she yells. Stomps her feet. Pine needles rain down from her body.

She bites her fist and walks in circles. "Shit! Shit! Fuck! Shit!" She picks up a glass and throws it against a tree. She falls to her knees, first whimpering and then crying. The rain washes her clean. I kneel behind her and reach out, touch her shoulder. She jerks away, flips my hand from her. She cups her face in her hands and sobs, her entire body rippling with each wave of tears.

I fall back and sit. I know what it is. I cannot think of anything to say. I look at my left hand and then hers. We are where we never should have been, but always wanted to be. I tilt my head back and try to quench my thirst.

Or just drown in this rain.