Silent Night, Horny Night

"Who in the fuck stays open on Christmas Eve?" I cursed under my breath.

"Slave-driving bastards like Mr. Brooks, that's who," replied Stacie as she strode through the swinging doors into the kitchen.

I quietly fumed, hands shoved in my pockets, leaning against the diner grill; heat on the stovetop matching my temper. It was Xmas eve and every business in this two-stoplight town was closed except for the diner. All night we had a total of ten customers, most wanting just coffee and a sticky bun.

I lucked out the first two years I worked here on holiday duty, but pulled the short straw this time.

Stacie opened the refrigerated cabinet across the room, retrieving a slice of Boston cr?me pie from the shelf before making herself comfortable on a stool in the corner.

"So JD, What are you doing for Christmas?" asked Stacie.

"Rum-spiked eggnog and watching 'A wonderful life' and 'Christmas Story' back to back." I mumbled.

"What about your family, back east?"

"Don't really celebrate the season."

Stacie pouted at my remark, shifting the pie plate between her fingers.

"Do you exchange gifts at all?"

"Nope."

My holiday attitude was probably turning her off by now, but I was already in a foul mood.

"Christmas has become too commercialized for me," I continued. "People who won't say two words to you all year are full of sugary goodness in the month of December.

"You are such a scrooge." She said with a tiny smile.

I watched as she began to eat, sans fork. She lovingly slid her finger around the cool dark top before plunging into the yellowish center, then extracting her finger and placing the gooey decadence onto her waiting tongue.

She caught me looking and with a wink, slowly slid out her finger clean of any evidence.

"I won't tell if you won't."

A hundred freaky thoughts raced through my mind, but before I could reply, she turned around and picked up the marker that hung from the dry erase board.

"One BC pie."

As she added the new entry to the waste sheet, I felt a little guilty. Damn my horny periods. There were days, even months where sex wouldn't cross my mind, but lately I had the urge to stick it somewhere other than the crook of my hand with a dollop of lotion on the side.

"I take it you have a big thing going on at home." I asked.

"Just folks, Tyson, and me" she said, referring to her little boys. " I haven't heard from Kevin, but he might show up."

Kevin was a do-nothing wannabe rock star that had the privilege of climbing between her thighs on occasion.

A jingle of the tiny bell above the doorway announced the arrival of a customer. I ducked my head through the slot of the sell window and saw Officer Dwayne P. Hobbs as he shook the newly fallen snow out of his hair and stomped the wintry crust off his boots.

Stacie exited the kitchen and greeted him with an empty cup and steel decanter of Java.

"Hey Officer," she purred, filling his cup before he had a chance to sit down.

"Hey beautiful," he replied with a broad smile. He glanced in the back and saw me, quickly wiping the smile off his face and giving a curt nod.

I returned his holiday greeting with a salute of my spatula and promptly left the window. We didn't exactly care for each other after a traffic incident that got me a weekend in jail and him in trouble with his superiors.

It was right after the previous New Years, when I was pulled over for "acting suspicious" by said Officer. "When he saw that I wasn't going to play by the "special" rules set aside for "my kind", he tried to play hard ball.

I played right back with him and ended up cuffed and stuffed. It wasn't until the following Monday morning that my fat got pulled out of the fire by an independent witness and I was released with an apology. Since then, we shared few words but many a fiery gaze.

"Gonna eat today, honey?" asked Stacie, leaning on the counter.

"Not much of an appetite, just coffee." He put down the menu and picked up his cup.

I sat down on the stool vacated by Stacie and pulled a smoke out of the crushed pack from the front pocket of my jeans. I was out of sight, but their conversation still floated through the window.

"Gonna get a couple of more inches tonite."

"I hope Brooks lets us close up early."

Hobbs laugh sounded like heated glass. "In all my years, I've never seen Brooks close early.

"If we get snowed in, I'll quit. Swear to God."

Stacie has been talking about quitting this greasy spoon every week for the past three years I worked here, but everyone knew that was a lie.

She had to care for Tyson and her on-again off-again boyfriend spent what money he had on music equipment for a Southern Rock band that changed names every month and never played in front of an audience. Besides, she made the most tips out of any of the other waitresses in the joint.

The bell jingled again and the voices of two more people entered the diner. I stubbed out my Marlboro on the heel of my shoe and got up. A young couple came in and took a seat in one of the booths adjacent to the counter. Stacie left Hobbs with his coffee and took them some menus. They ordered quickly and she brought me the torn off ticket. I wiped off my hands and got to work. Over the hiss of frying meat and eggs, I could still hear her and Hobbs talking.

"How about going out sometime?"

"Aw, that's sweet," she replied rubbing his hand across the counter. I whistled under my breath like an incoming torpedo. "But, I'm not trying to date right now."

"Boom!" I breathed out a little too loudly, causing both of them to stare back at me. Hobbs' nose tipped red with humiliation as he downed his cup and gathered his belongings.

"You have a good night," he said to Stacie before glaring back at me and heading out, slamming the door a little too harshly, startling the seated couple.

I finished the orders of bacon and eggs for the lady, steak for the gent, and slapped the counter bell with my spatula for pick up. Stacie delivered the plates with a smile and made a beeline back into the kitchen.

"That was mean, JD" She lightly punched me in the arm. That was her favorite way of communicating with me

"Guess I'm off his Xmas card list," I chuckled. She smiled and picked up the partially eaten pie. She dabbed a piece of the cr?me filling on my upper lip.

"Now you're an accomplice." I quickly licked it off, wagging my finger at her like I was scolding a student, but with a smile on my face.

Stacie was a looker when it came to the small town types, but her image would get swallowed up in the big city. She was about ten years my junior, but the daily pressures of child rearing and bad relationships gave her a five year handicap. She stood about 5'10" with naturally curled auburn hair that flowed past her shoulders, even though she kept it pinned up at work. Her eyes were a sparkling green that fluctuated like a barometer, gauging her emotional state. She had a decent body, but her weight wavered with each break up and make up Kevin. I trained myself to stop looking at her breasts that strained for freedom under her polyester uniform, but allowed myself carte blanche with her apple-bottomed butt when she wasn't looking.

Either from childbirth or recessive genes, she was the only white girl in town with a genuine black booty. She tried to play down the effects her posterior had on men, but she saw the rewards with all the attention lavished on her from passers-by and extra dollars slid across the counter.

Hobbs wasn't the first suitor to get the polite brush off from the serving vixen and he certainly wouldn't be the last, but she only has eyes for Kevin. Only God knows why.

"I wouldn't date him anyhow," she replied claiming her spot back on the corner stool. "He dated my friend Brenda and she said he was a 10 on the P.N.G. scale."

"P.N.G.?"

"10 pumps and a grunt."

I loudly laughed with her at her rating system. I wanted to ask her about Kevin's rating, but deemed that taboo.

"So, JD" she said between picks of dessert. "How come you ain't snatched up, yet?"

"I'm not small town material, that's why."

"I don't follow you."

"I don't fit in here and everyone knows it."

I drifted into town about three and a half years ago from New York to California and decided to put down roots for awhile in Colorado while working on my book. I took the diner job not for a lack of money, but I wanted real experiences to give my characters life. Why I haven't left yet is a mystery that even I can't answer.

"You are different from the other..." she started, but cut herself off.

I knew what she was getting at, but it didn't offend me in the least. Of the smattering of blacks in town, I certainly stuck out with my East Side swagger and libidinous attitude. I spoke often and loudly; didn't back down from confrontation easily. That is why I get such warm greetings from Hobbs nowadays.

"Besides, aren't too many black women here that catch my eye."

"Any white women?"

I stood there with mouth agape, but before I could reply, she headed back to the front to tend to the lone customers.

I watched her out the window as she poured more coffee and chatted with them. They finished dining, in a hurry to get to their final destination before the blizzard hit. Stacie came back around to the front register to check them out. We watched as they gathered their coats, the young man helping his girlfriend into hers. She snuggled up against him as he paid the check, leaving a decent tip, and they stepped outside into the whipping wind throwing a casual "Merry Christmas" to us.

"Bah Fuckin' Humbug." I replied. By the time I got home, I would be too tired to watch little Ralphie beat the shit out of Fargas for the umpteenth time.

Stacie sighed and ran a finger across her scalp.

"Why can't that be me?" She asked, starting a new thread in the conversation, totally forgetting her previous question. "Kevin never helped me with my coat."

"Only you can answer that question, sweetie." I replied and concentrated on cleaning the grill.

She gathered the dishes from the booth and the coffee cup from the counter in a bus tub and came back into the kitchen to wash them off.

"Let me get that." I reached over and took the tub from her, brushing my fingers over her a little longer than necessary.

She blushed a little before turning away and going back to her unfinished dessert. I washed the few plates and looked up to catch Stacie staring. Not at me, but at my pelvic area.

"Why you staring at my junk?" I asked, snapping her out of her trance.

"Ooh, you caught me," she giggled and went back to the pie, turning away from me.

"You're not getting away that easy, what you looking at?" I playfully snarled.

"Ok, then." She put the pie on her lap and faced me, pointing those emerald orbs right at me. "I was curious."

"About?"

"Size."

I leaned against the sink, a derisive grin creeping along my lips. This conversation was finally starting to heat up.

"Besides, I know you've been staring at my ass for like ever."

My grin dropped a notch, I knew I've been busted.

"Ah-ha. I knew you been looking." She slapped her knee for emphasis.

"Touch?."

She was all smiles for luring me into her bluff and continued. "I haven't been with a lot of guys and never with..." She nodded her head in that knowing way and I understood.

"So, I haven't seen too many 'thangs'." I snickered at her penis reference. She has a child, a steady boyfriend that must hit it on the regular, but she couldn't bring herself to say a dirty word in front of me. Her innocence was kinda refreshing.

"Brenda says that you guys are like really, really big."

I cocked my eyebrow at the mention of Brenda. Even though they were best friends, they were total social opposites. Stacie's travels take her from work to home, with stops along the way at McDonalds or the Pic-N-Pay and back to point A. Brenda doesn't work; never stays in one place long enough to call home and most of her dinners are in local watering holes.

"Brenda knows this?"

"Well, she saw a video once and said that this black guy was like all the way down in thigh and he wasn't even excited yet."

She leaned forward in the stool and craned her neck to make sure no one was there. Satisfied that we were alone, she blurted out, "So, I was wondering where you put it so nobody sees."

I bit my lip so I wouldn't laugh in her face. The monster cock myth was designed to scare white women off since the 1800's, but ended up backfiring leading to talks like this.

"It's not that big, really." I hiked up my waistband, making her steal a look and me to grin like a Cheshire.

"You need to get away from this town."

"Brenda is such a liar."

"I'm just glad you had the balls to ask."

She relaxed when she saw I wasn't gonna pick on her too badly.

"You ever see any of those videos, yourself?"

She gasped in mock horror and clutched her heart.

"Me, watch porn?" Kevin probably made frequent overnighters to Denver for his collection. I used the information superhighway, myself.

We giggled like school kids as she finished off her swiped dessert. There was a huge dollop left on the plate and as she scooped it up, but instead of eating it, she rose and walked towards me with finger extended.

"Want the last of it?"

I opened wide and she put her finger in my mouth. I sucked off the remnants of the pie, sure she would withdraw her digit, but when she didn't found myself trying to entice her. I tongued her finger very slowly, making sure to get the last of the smooth chocolate off. She called my bluff again, not moving an inch. I stared right in her eyes as I assailed her digit with my clit pleaser. She deeply inhaled and started rubbing her finger back and forth on my tongue.

The tiny ring of the front door made us jump apart, both looking at the intruder.

Officer Hobbs appeared at the counter, none the wiser at he was busy clapping his gloved hands together to stave off the cold.

"Stacie, you back there?" He called out. She wiped her finger off on her apron and after a guilty smile, went to greet him.

"Hey Hobbs, what brings you back?

"Got a call from Dispatch. It seems you're phone lines are down. Brooks been trying to call for the better part of an hour."

"What, is he checking to see if we're still open?"

"Hell, the Xmas bug must've bit his ass. He says to tell you that you can close up and go before this oncoming blizzard hits."

I didn't have to hear the words twice as I shut off the grill and starting cleaning up. Not that I had anything special planned, I just wanted to go home.

Hobbs looked in the back and tried to whisper to Stacie, his cracked glass voice carries.

"Want me to stick around until you close?"

Stacie followed his gaze to the back and replied, "Thanks Honey, but I'll be alright."

He grunted in response and shifted his stance.

"Hey Hobbs, I could use an escort home." I called from the back but my request was answered with a slammed door.

I continued cleaning what little mess we made during the nonexistent rush, chuckling at my last dig, while Stacie totaled up the register and wiped down the counter. She put the receipts in the safe while I ran a quick mop over the floor.

The snow fell even heavier now and wind banged against the windows with renewed vigor.

I only lived a couple blocks away, but she lived at least twenty minutes by car and her beat up Buick was no match for the newly iced roads.

"Maybe I should have taken him up on the offer," she said looking out the diner's bay windows at the storm as I shut off the lights and turned clicked off the open sign.

"You could always crash at my apartment," I offered, putting on my goose-downed jacket. "Don't expect a tree or lights though."

"My mom would freak out."

"Yeah, What would the Woman's League think?"

"I didn't mean it like that, JD." She put a gloved hand on my arm.

I took her hand from my arm and placed it in mine.

"Stacie, I'm a realist. I know what people say and think about me around here, but it doesn't stop me from doing what I want to do."

She looked up at me in the dim.

"I like that fact that you're different. It makes me wonder about what's on the side of the county line. I want to be able to do my own thing."

"You will." I leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the forehead before releasing her hand and turning towards the door.

When I placed my hand on the doorknob, Stacie reached over mine and turned the deadbolt to the locked position.

"Hey, I should be the first person you give a present to this season."

I furrowed my brow at such a weird request. I never gave anybody in this town anything, least a card, and now she expected a present.

"Well, I did make you that omelet earlier." I joked to lighten the mood.

She punched me in the arm.

"There is one thing I would like from you." Her tone took a more serious turn and her eyes penetrated right into me. I was afraid to see where this was headed, but I bit anyway.

"One thing?"

"One thing." She took a deep breath. "I want to see for myself."

"See what?"

I followed her gaze downward to my crotch. My cock stirred at the hint that some action was on the horizon.

"Do you think that's a good idea, right now?" I looked back out at the blinding whiteness rapidly engulfing the parking lot.

"It won't take long and the police station is nearby. I could stay there for the night if I can't get home." Her breaths quickened as she stared back up at me.

When I didn't say anything right away, she reached for my belt buckle, and I stopped her on impulse. My mind was spinning. I wouldn't mind getting in her ass, but I was no fool either. No independent witness was gonna save me if something went amiss. People around here still hate OJ and Kobe and I don't have an attorney on retainer.

I'm at least eight years this girls senior and getting involved with her had lots of complications. My cock, however, had different ideas.

"Jeez, not at the front door."

I took her by the hand, leading her back to the break room just off the kitchen area. There was a cushioned bench under the coat rack and a small table for eating. The ashtray overflowed with butts and there was a cup half-filled with cold coffee next to it. I set my knapsack on the table and turned on the small reading lamp, casting the room in a yellow-tinged glow.

"Standing or sitting?"

"What?"

"Would you rather I stand or sit for the unveiling?"

She smirked, pausing a couple of seconds before answering.

"I'll sit, you stand." She shrugged out of her winter coat and hung it on the rack before taking a seat on the bench.

The next move was mine, but I was unsure. Woman didn't just ask me to whip it out on display everyday. I was wishing I had some music when Stacie interrupted my thoughts.

"So?"

"Oh, Right. Drumroll please."

She pursed her lips together and imitated a snare while I took off my coat and proceeded to undo my belt buckle.

I pulled my zipper down and reached in. My dick sprung to life, making kind of difficult to release from my boxer briefs. After a tug, I popped it loose and watched her eyes grow wide with awe.

"It is big."

"Bullshit. It's on average, nowhere down my thigh."

"Biggest I've seen."

I didn't know whether to be flattered or dumfounded. My "monster" couldn't have been more than six and a half inches long hard, even though the head was pretty large, giving it that thick look. She obviously came out on the short end of the sexual partner stick.

"C'mon move closer." She leaned forward with interest.

Like we were playing a game of "Mother, May I" I took a step forward. The desk lamp cast a shadow of my dick on the wall that would've made any woman duck and hide.

She pulled off her wool gloves with her teeth and started to reach towards me but stopped herself.