When Harry Met Crazy

When Harry Met Crazy

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All truckers, cooks, and crazy girlfriends 18+

Thanks to Juana Salsa for her nuanced edits and sage advice.

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Bob Seger had it right.

"On a long and lonesome highway east of Omaha

You can listen to the engine rolling out its one note song

You can think about the woman

Or the girl you knew the night before..."

That was me, as I drove my overloaded 18-wheeled rig down State Road 6 in an effort to avoid the scales on Interstate 80. Angela, the restaurant waitress that I'd fucked in the sleeper section of my rig on my last stop in Ely, Nevada 18 hours ago, was long gone. Only the scent of her cheap perfume remained, lingering in my cab. She'd been a friendly plump girl with a sweet face, and one of the best fucks I'd ever had; if I hadn't been so pressed for time, I might have stuck around a bit to get to know her better.

Still a bachelor at 27, I'd been driving rigs around for six years; it had been a profitable but lonely existence. Now it was time to start thinking about the future. Waking up next to someone like Angela every morning might not be such a bad thing.

Memories of parking lot fucking were not what was now foremost in my mind, however. I was bone-tired, and kept 'seeing the black dog' - the term drivers used to describe the phantom shapes that appeared to dart across the road in the beams of truck headlights. It was definitely time to pull over for a rest and a meal before I ended up with the shiny side down and the greasy side up.

A dimly-lit billboard advertised "Lewis, Iowa's own Big Bonanza Bar and Restaurant -- COLD BEER, GREAT FOOD!" three miles ahead, but it was the two words "Truckers WELCOME" that caught my eye. I knew the chances of the food being even halfway decent at some greasy spoon in the middle of nowhere were pretty damned low, but I'd pushed myself to the limit behind the wheel. I had to take a break.

I wasn't the only one who had this idea, as there were three other big rigs in the parking lot, along with two highway patrol cars and seven Harley-Davidson motorcycles. Let me tell you, if a place brings in truckers, cops, AND bikers, the food must be damned good! This looked promising.

I went in and found myself a stool at the counter. Without asking, the waitress -- her nametag read 'Jessie' - put a cup of coffee and a glass of water in front of me and drawled, "What'll ya have, honey?"

"You got pork chops?"

"Yup. Comes with green beans, applesauce, and taters. You want fries or mashed?"

"Mashed, please."

"Comin' up."

Twenty minutes later, I finished eating what had been the best pork chop meal I'd ever had. When the waitress came by with my ticket, I gave her the money and said, "I don't mind tellin' you, that was the best pork chop I ever ate! Give my compliments to the chef!"

She smiled, and told me "Yeah, we get that a lot. Harry's pretty damned good in the kitchen." Then she chuckled, "He's got five kids, so I'm guessing he's pretty good in the sack, too, although I wouldn't dare say anything to his wife, Melissa. She's so possessive it scares the living shit out of me! Tell you what, if you think the food was good, you compliment him yourself."

She turned her head and shouted at the pass-through, "Hey Harry, come on out! There's a customer what wants to talk to you!"

Before I could say anything, the door to the kitchen swung open and the cook came out, wearing a stained apron. On TV, diner cooks are usually big burly guys with sour dispositions, but not this guy. He was slim, about 5'6", with light red hair and a thin neatly trimmed growth of beard.

His voice was quiet and tenor-like. "Something I can help you with, bud? You not happy with the pork chop?"

"Oh, no, not at all," I assured him, "I was just telling Jessie here it was the best pork chop I'd ever had."

I guess he was waiting for a complaint. Harry stared at me for a moment, nonplussed, then asked, "You want another?"

"No, I'm plenty full, thanks." Then an idea hit me. "I'll tell you what though, let me buy you a beer before I go to my rig and turn in for the night."

He nodded, seeming to like that idea. Taking off his apron and putting it under the counter, he shouted through the pass-through window, "Hey, Raoul! You got the grill! I'll be in the bar."

A few minutes later we were seated at a table in the bar, Patsy Kline and Hank Williams songs playing on the jukebox in the background.

"So I gotta ask you, where'd you learn to cook?"

"I started out in the Navy as a cook on the USS Kearsarge, a Wasp-class aircraft carrier. When I got out, I came home to Lewis, not sure what I wanted to do. I ended up taking a job as a dishwasher here at the Big Bonanza, and eventually started helping out the cook as well."

"I was in the navy myself once, and I have to say it's a big leap from serving up the slop they gave us on board to cooking the way you do."

"Yeah, I wasn't very good at first. Then I met Melissa." He pulled out his wallet and showed me what looked like a high-school senior photo. Her face was freckled and round, and she had long dark hair. What really struck me was her eyes. You know the old cliché about a woman's eyes being like pools? Well, hers were. They were big and blue, like you could drown in them. I definitely saw the attraction.

"She's very pretty," I told him.

"Yeah, I thought so too when I saw her! I was 25, and she was just 18, about to graduate. Her Dad, the mayor of Lewis, had rented the restaurant for her graduation party. Everything was going smoothly, but she kept making excuses to come back into the kitchen to check on things. By the end of the party, I had her phone number, and a boner to go with it."

"So what did you do?"

"Well, I was a cook by then, so I called her and offered to make her dinner at my place. I pulled a simple recipe out of an old Betty Crocker cookbook, a ham and scalloped potatoes casserole, and made that along with a salad and some banana pudding for dessert."

"I take it she liked it?"

"It was funny, Melissa complained about it a couple of times, saying it was OK but nothing special, but somehow managed to eat every bit of it as well as having seconds. Watching how she interacted with her father, I figured she was a spoiled little princess, so I shrugged her reaction off. I figured after dessert, I'd just take her home and that would be it."

"I take it that it wasn't?"

"Nope. When I went to get her coat to take her home, she plopped down on my sofa and announced she was mad at me. I asked whatever the hell for, and she said it was because I hadn't tried to kiss her the entire night. I mean, it was our first date after all, and with her Dad being the mayor and everything, I was trying to be respectful."

He chuckled to himself, "After she'd scolded me for not kissing her, I decided 'fuck it' and began to make up for lost time. I'm telling you, man, this girl could kiss! She also undid the buttons of her blouse, telling me I'd better not touch her boobs. Bear in mind, while Melissa's mother is a tiny thing with a pretty face that Melissa had inherited. Her father's 6'2", and it was him she took after body-wise. She's a big girl, weighed about 240, 6' tall with 32C boobs, plump thighs, and a pretty face. So yeah, you'd best believe I dove into that cleavage, kissing and sucking every square inch. In the meantime, she's reaching into my pants and rubbing my dick, making me even more crazy for her"

I was getting hard just listening to this guy, picturing him going to town on those giant funbags. I asked quietly, "So, did you take her to bed, then?"

"Nope. She suddenly stopped everything, jumped up, tucking everything back in and said she needed me to take her home. It was like a bucket of cold water. Being the gentleman that I am, I did as she asked. I got her home by 10:30pm. On her doorstep, she turned and shook my hand, gave me a hug, and thanked me for a delightful dinner. I went in to kiss her, but she gently pushed me away, telling me that I was a charming date, but it was still too soon for that. I thought she might have been crazy, but then I saw the doorbell camera and realized she was putting on a show for her parents."

I shook my head. "Wow, dude, that must have been tough."

"Yeah, not gonna lie, I went home and jacked off to relieve the pressure, right? But one thing was for sure, I was going to fuck Melissa no matter what it took to get in her pants."

Like a "So, did you call her the next day?

"Yeah, but it wasn't like she was happy to hear from me, her voice sounded pretty neutral and kind of bored. I asked her if she wanted me to make dinner for her again, and she sighed and said OK without a lot of enthusiasm. I figured I'd go all out for her this time, so I decided to make an Italian veal stew, osso bucco. This was no small thing, because a couple of quality veal shanks alone cost around $50, which for me was half a day's pay. It's also a dish that takes about 3 hours to cook, so it was a major investment money and time-wise. She came over and ate it, but afterwards when I asked how she liked it she said if she wanted stew, she could just as easily get it from a can."

I was stunned. "You gotta be fucking kidding me! You dropped her for that shit, right?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Instead, I blew my top. I started yelling at her about what a spoiled brat she was, then pulled her to the couch, lifted up her skirt and spanked her ass until she cried. It was crazy because she was taller than me by at least 4", outweighing me by at least 50 pounds, but she went right along with it. When I thought she'd had enough, I stopped and asked her if she was sorry. Instead of apologizing to me, she slid off my lap, undid my trousers and began to suck my hard cock. I'll never forget how amazing it was to see those blue eyes of hers look up at me as she swallowed my load, it was the sexiest thing I'd ever seen!"

"I guess that's a pretty good apology, huh?"

"Yes, it certainly was. Then I took her back home, and we went through the same handshake-and-a-hug routine for her parents' doorbell camera."

Were they really fooled into thinking a 25-year-old man was content with a handshake from their 18-year-old daughter?"

"People believe what they want to believe, bro, what can I tell you?"

"So after this, did you two start officially dating?"

"Nope, the bitch actually cut all contact for a fucking week! I was pissed! When she finally answered the phone again, I asked if she wanted to go out with me that night, but she told me she had another date. Since we hadn't agreed to be exclusive, and on top of everything else she was acting like a spoiled brat, I accepted it, but I still felt kind of jealous. Disappointed at her refusal, I took an extra shift at work when another cook called in sick that night. Well, you'll never guess where she and her date end up having dinner."

"You gotta be kidding me, they went to the Big Bonanza, knowing you worked there? That was a bit of an insult, wasn't it?"

"Yup. Somehow they ended up in a booth closest to the pass-through window, so when I was putting orders up I could see and hear everything. They did that cutesy couple's thing were they both sat on the same side of the booth so he could put his arm around her, saying things in her ear that made her giggle. She wasn't quiet about it either, it was obvious she was doing it on purpose to get me steamed."

"Did it bother you, her doing that?"

Laughing, he nodded, "Oh, hell yes! By this time I'd had my face in her tits, spanked that big, sweet ass, and had even gotten a blow job from her! Now here she was, carrying on with some preppie-looking asshole, as if I didn't even exist! I decided to get her back by being a petty jerk. I went out and bussed a few tables, 'accidentally' stumbled, and spilled a couple of glasses of water on them as I passed their booth. Of course, I apologized profusely for my clumsiness and offered to comp their meal. When she and I made eye contact though, I knew that she knew it was no accident. They left in a huff right afterwards."

"Did she break things off with you, then?"

"A normal girl would, but then Melissa was starting to prove she was anything but normal. After I got off work at 11pm, I drove home only to find her waiting in my apartment building parking lot. She ran up to me and began shouting what a fucking asshole I was, calling me things I hadn't even heard in the Navy. After working my shift I was too tired to fight with her, so slinging my apron over my shoulder, I just turned and walked up to my second floor apartment, thinking she'd lose steam and go home to her daddy."

"I take it that's not what she did?"

He laughed, and rolled his eyes. "Oh, fuck no! Like a tail of a damned comet, she was on my ass the whole way up the stairs; as soon as I had the door unlocked, she pushed her way in past me. I'd barely closed the door when she slapped me, calling me a bastard for ruining her date, going on about how she'd just met him and was pretty sure he was the one she wants to marry but I'd ruined everything by dumping water on him."

"Oh, wow, then did she leave?"

"No, quite the contrary, Melissa stood her ground and slapped me again. By then I'd had enough; I threw my dirty apron over her head, then wrapped the strings around her neck and tied it so she could breathe but not see, and couldn't get it off. Then it got weird." I made a mental note to try the apron trick if I was ever got with another waitress, it sounded like fun!

I was incredulous. "Wait, wait, screaming at you when you got home from work, following into your apartment and slapping you wasn't already weird?"

"All that stuff was just a warm-up compared to what came next, believe me. She tore her blouse open, then undid the front snap of her bra, telling me not to touch her tits! Seeing those big, luscious melons, though, I had no choice! I pushed her backwards onto my couch, where she landed with her legs slightly spread. I dived right in and began sucking and nibbling on her nipples, and she went quiet for a while, gasping and moaning every so often. When I stood up to take off my clothes, she reached down under her skirt, pulled off her shoes and panties, spread her legs, and told me I'd be a horrible man if I took advantage of her helplessness and fucked her hard."

I flashed back on being with Angela, and how I'd feasted on her big tits. Oh, yeah, it was a real good time for both of us. "Wow. So did you?"

He shook his head, "Nope. That was what Melissa wanted, and I wasn't going to let her win her little 'game of crazy'. Instead, I pushed those thick thighs apart and stuck my face in there, licking that pussy like there was no tomorrow. She howled like a banshee, waving her feet in the air as I went to town. Finally, she stiffened and shrieked like a damned pterodactyl, then went limp."

I remembered the earthy taste of Angela's pussy, and how she'd happily moaned as I painted her pussy lips with my tongue. Man, if I wasn't in such a damned hurry to get back on the road I would have kept her moaning for days. "Was she OK?"

"Oh, yes, she was fine. Seeing Melissa cum was scary for the first time or two, but I'm used to it now. She's pretty intense. Sometimes when she cums, I have to hold a pillow over her face, so her noises won't scare the children."

"So did she make you take her home again without fucking her?"

"No, after she recovered from her orgasm, she reached down and started rubbing her pussy, saying she couldn't stand any more torture, begging me not to put my cock in her vagina because she was saving her innocence for her husband."

I had to laugh inwardly at the idea of anyone being innocent these days. For her part, Angela was no virgin, but she hadn't had sex since before her husband left her so was tight enough that she could have been. "Ah. So you...?"

He chuckled and nodded, "Oh yeah, you bet! I untied the apron and pulled it off her head so I could kiss her, and she in turn threw her arms around my neck like a damned anaconda. She was wiggling and thrusting her hips like crazy, and I knew I couldn't last. I told her when I was getting close, and it only made her more enthusiastic, locking her ankles behind me and grabbing my ass so I couldn't pull out."

"I take it you weren't wearing protection."

"Yeah, about that. I hadn't really had any girlfriends since I'd gotten out of the Navy, so I didn't have any in my apartment, and in all the excitement..."

"Ah. But she was on birth control, right?"

"You'd think that a girl that age would be, but as I was getting close, she started telling me to pull out because she was ovulating and fertile, and that I'd better not cum in her or she'd get pregnant. But with her strength, she held me so tightly I couldn't pull out. Truth be told, I didn't really want to!"

Angela and I had used protection, but she hadn't wanted me to pull out. Like I said, she was a really good fuck! No wonder she was on my mind 18 hours later.

"So you finished in her?"

"Oh, yeah, and it was a while since I'd been in a pussy, so it was a BIG finish, with plenty of overflow. I was washing the cum stains out of my sofa for a week!"

"Was she lying about being fertile?"

"Nope, dead serious. I knocked her up good and proper. If it wasn't that particular night, it was one of the many nights after that. She'd come over and accuse me of deliberately trying to getting her pregnant to trap her and ruin her life, then we'd argue, and I'd somehow physically 'overpower' her, hell, even tying her up a couple of times, then I'd fuck her bareback."

"How did the Mayor take the news you'd put a bun in his daughter's oven?"

"When Melissa got a positive pregnancy test and told her parents, they arranged a wedding right quick. The mayor being a politician, he sure spun things, announcing he was glad his daughter was marrying a decorated Navy veteran. I'm not sure my good conduct medal counts as being decorated, but there it was. Our oldest boy David was born 'prematurely', ha-ha, seven months after our wedding."

My curiosity now killing me, and I asked, "Why'd you stay with her and have four more kids? You didn't have to marry her, you could have just paid child support for the one!"

He explained as if I was a student and he was a guidance counselor: "Here's the thing, dude. For all her craziness, Melissa loves me. I know she'll never cheat, and she'll kill any woman who tries to get near me. It's flattering, really. Also, dominating her is addicting. I love taking her anytime and anywhere I want. Like, if we take the kids to the park and while they're playing on the swings, if I want to, we'll go back in the van and she'll give me a blowjob, or even a quick fuck! Sometimes she sasses me just so I'll take her into the bedroom for a quick spanking, which then results in more fucking. In the years we've been married, it's a miracle she hasn't worn my cock completely off yet, and I'm only 31!"

"So I have to ask, why so many kids?"

"Melissa's already gorgeous, but when she's pregnant, things get it's really fucking hot! Her tits swell, I get to rub her belly and ass with skin cream every day for her stretchmarks, and her horniness kicks into overdrive in the second trimester. I want all the kids she's willing to have. Once she says no more, that's it, I'll get the snip."

A woman's voice boomed across the bar, "Harry Cooper, you should have been home 20 minutes ago, instead I find you drinking in a bar!?!? Mister, you're in such trouble!"

Standing at the door of the bar, a baby on her hip and four young children standing around her, was Melissa herself. Her picture didn't do her justice, she was the epitome of a fertility goddess. Even with tousled hair and no makeup, her face and blue eyes were intoxicating. I'd never even met her, yet still had the urge to worship at her feet.