Pammy's Roe House

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Hungry?
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The run from the car to the jalousie paned front door was made during the last ten minutes of a typical Florida thundershower. The crushed shell, covered parking lot had pothole, filled puddles to dodge as Will and Nancy made their dash.

"Hiya Will! Pammy yelled out from the kitchen door. Gonna be quiet tonight." She came forward to greet them. Pammy had a great smile, warm and friendly, freckles galore, curly red hair on a linebacker's frame. Her tee shirt had the bold print, "Fisherman Rise To The Bite."

"Hey Pammy, meet Nancy."

"Hiya Hon! This sumbitch had you back in the flats fishin' yet?"

"Yes, today as a matter of fact," Nancy joined in.

"Doanygood?"

"Now Pammy, don't embarrass ole' Will, he chuckled, We're going to take this end booth, Nancy wants me to explain to her how fish spawn and bring us two of those beers in the green bottles, the ones no one else around here can say."

"Gotcha Hon! by the way the oysters are perfect tonight. Billy got me two tubs full this morning."

When Pammy brought their beers he asked about Billy, her husband, who was also the most renowned fishing guide in the area. "Has he been booked up?"

"Well, you know these cold fronts and how they shut the fishing down for a day or two. Pammy turned to Nancy; But Hon, when its chilly outside he turns into the horniest man I ever knowed."

Nancy blushed.

Will placed a palm in her back, leading them to the corner booth.

Stained plywood planters filled with plastic daisies separated the high backed booths. The facing seat cushions were covered with faded red, genuine, made in the USA, imitation vinyl. Gray duct tape had repaired just a few jagged breaks. The saving grace to the décor was the cushion matching red, checkered tablecloths. No one ever knew if they were for hygiene or to cover the numerous cigarette burns in the plastic tabletops. That discovery was never made as each checkered cloth top was held down by a black and chrome paper napkin holder, stainless capped, glass salt and pepper shakers, a four inch amber vase holding two plastic daisies, a coffee mug filled with packages of Domino sugar, a shot glass filled with round toothpicks, a bottle of Heinz catsup, and a bottle of Tabasco sauce. Yes, the tablecloth was secure and in it's middle lay a 3 x 5 index card with Today's Specials.
The booths circled the room with a stadium like effect. The playing field was two, 50 cents a game pool tables. There was a Dale Earnhardt, Jr. Budweiser clock on a far wall, a Silver Bullet Coors Light that competed neon versus neon against a Pabst Blue Ribbon crest and a Busch Come to the Mountains sign.

She slid in and he right beside her. They both chuckled and brushed lips in a quick kiss then another quick one allowing the tips of their tongues to touch. Nancy was beaming and chuckled, "So this is Pammy's Roe House? Imitating the accents she had been exposed to all day, she giggled , I'm gonna tell ya now, dis girl is now out of the city."

Pammy brought two Ball jars filled with ice water. "Okay, one or two dozen ona half to start?"

Will answered, "Better start us with a just a dozen, we have a pilgrim amongst us, and Pammy make sure the saltines aren't stale."

"Yeah right, you sumbitch, she laughed, what else?"

"A small basket of the fried gator tail, fried breaded okra, some hushpuppies, two hand picked grilled fillets of grouper with that garlic and capers topping I taught you, and two more cold bottles of this fine Dutch wine."

"Now dear, as he kissed her ear, you are going to hear the classical music of the South." He slid out of the booth and Barishnikoffed the two-step over to the jukebox and back as George Jones wailed...."We live in a two story house....you've got your story, I've got mine."

"Classic southern poatree, Will proclaimed, 'course not nearly as good as your poetry," as he kissed Nancy opening her lips with a gently piercing tongue.

She moaned while letting her hand drop into his lap. "I don't know who I enjoy more, you or this, as she caressed his firming shaft through his jeans. You seem so comfortable in your skin, you make me feel so damn comfortable too. Thank you, this day has been wonderful"
Nancy continued gentle strokes as she reviewed her day on the water; the mangroves, the many birds, the manatees and even the fishing had fascinated her. They were like that together; a conversation could be enjoyed just as well as the sensual arousal, even simultaneously.

When Pammy delivered the oysters, Nancy just knew she could read her flushed cheeks, but nothing was said.

Will taught Nancy another southern tradition, actually one he just made up. "Here take the shell in two hands and place it to your lips, close your eyes and feel everything as the oyster slides into your mouth." As she did so, his hand covered a breast and he gently pinched her nipple as she swallowed.

"Incredible, how many left, eleven?" she chuckled. Somewhere around the tenth oyster they decided that they should each exchange oysters from mouth to mouth, tongue to tongue.

He spiked each piece of gator tail with a droplet or two of Tobasco sauce. She nibbled tentatively at first then devoured half the basket. "Hmmmmm, tastes like chiken', she laughed, mocking him. The fried okra, dry and crisp was outstanding. The grilled grouper was covered with drawn garlic butter and the capers added just the right combination to reclassify a country dinner into a gourmet feast. They ate, , they laughed, they moaned; the food and each other's company made for a perfect dinner.

"Hey Pammy, bring us a couple of those redneck latte's, you know, Maxwell House, half and half and cane sugar."

Nancy was turned so that her breast pressed against Will's arm with even the slightest movement. He could feel her firm nipple through her sundress.

Here's ya coffee, I got dishes to do," as Pammy giggled and adjourned to the kitchen.

This time it was Nancy's tongue that parted Will's lips, probing, and now more urgent. She moved her lips to his ear, wetly penetrating a whisper, "Can I depart from our agreement?"

"Sure, but what is our agreement?"

"The one that allows us to use the word, "fuck" only when we drop something on our toe."
Will chuckled, "Oh, that agreement."
Her tongue once again entered his ear with a warm, wet whisper, "Yes, and my toes are fine."

Nancy slid her hips forward in the booth, reached for Will's hand and guided it quickly under her sundress to her parting thighs. "I want you to finger fuck me right now, I need it now," she moaned a begging whisper.

Her hand over his, his fingers moved to cup her warming mound. Her hips began gentle undulations. His index finger began to massage her clitoris in small circles, gently in one direction, then in the other, pausing to let the same finger drop down to slide fully through her swollen lips, dipping into her flowing nectar, more and more he coaxed her wet clit and flowing petals to enjoy. She would whisper, "there, right there" and his finger would curl and respond to her pleading. As Will sensed her impending release, he kissed her deeply as his other hand moved to her, sliding two fingers deeply in and out and at just the right moment they curled upward to caress the ceiling of her sex, the spot that flashes lightning through her completely taut body. She shook, she moaned, her hand covered his, her hips bucked, her other hand was covering and grasping a swollen breast and nipple. Her lips sought his, she sucked his tongue wildly as she released to his probing fingers.

In a low moan, Oh my, what a gasm." They giggled quietly for the next five minutes, finished their coffee and made their way to the cash register.
"Be right up hon," Pammy yelled from the kitchen. As she approached she was grinning from ear to ear, "told you it was gonna be slow tonight."

Will handed Pammy a hundred, kissed her on the cheek and said, "Thanks, Pammy and give Bill my best. Tell him to save me a day on the next full moon."

"Gotcha hon and twas a pleasure meetin' you Nancy."

"Pammy, the food was great and I have one question."

"Sure hon, is it the okra recipe?"

"No Pammy, tell me again, is it the fishing or the cold fronts that makes 'em so horny?"

Both women were laughing loudly as Will and Nancy exited Pammy's Roe House.

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