Where the Buffalo Roam

I was about to say, "That's fine," but I heard the sounds of panting and bodies slapping together from the second tent and a seconds later, a low moan and an "Oh, Jimmy, right there! Yes!" from the one where the couple had just gone in. I think the woman's foot was kicking way up the side of the tent as she kept saying it repeatedly. Several other couples stood around grinning at each other, probably thinking about their turns coming up soon. The smell, barely noticeable, suddenly made sense, too.

"Ahem, glad everyone's enjoying themselves, but please, keep it down and no absolutely public displays," I said, trying to control my breathing as I quickly turned and walked away.

That was too much, I realized. It had been at least nine months since I'd been in that situation and the sounds and smell had hit me like a truck. My blood was racing and it was all I could do to prevent my arising. Yes, I was lonely, I realized, and really in need of companionship that I'd missed but refused to admit for so long. Nessa, the only woman I'd liked since Dolores, wouldn't even give me the time of day....

Gathering trash and doing some cleanup helped calm me and I was on the way to one of the food tents to help with the supply situation when my phone rang. It was Nessa, calling instead of texting for a change.

"Hey, Nessa, what do you need?"

"Alan," she said rather somberly, "you need to come to the HQ tent. A guest needs to speak with you."

"Give them my e-mail address and have them send me a message, okay? I'll be glad to answer any questions on Monday. I'm heading over to check the problem at the east food tent. I'm almost there."

"Alan, I'll send someone else there. You need to come here. Now."

She hung up before I could say more, and I let out another curse. I reeled off a couple more under my breath as I headed back toward the HQ tent, but any calming, stress relief seemed to be lost so I shut up and walked.

Entering at the rear of the tent, I saw Nessa standing up but bending over in front of her laptop while talking on her phone via earpieces. She was wearing her Beautiful Bisonettes polo and khaki shorts, but as typed and stretched, all I could do was stare at the bottom of her shapely buttocks extending just below the bottom of the legs. Just the very bottom but perfect moons none-the-less, making me groan under my breath.

Nessa didn't hear me but a moment later she looked back, noticed me, and then raised up and looked around. Waving a finger to be sure she had my attention, she pointed over to the side where a man and a woman stood talking.

The man was maybe 6-feet, just an inch or two shorter than me, but he probably had thirty pounds on me, all of it dense muscle. I paid him no further attention though since that's when I saw her, Dolores Seaver, turning toward me.

She was wearing a thin white cover up over her birthday suit, her breasts and nipples clearly visible through the fabric, as was a very trim triangle of hair below. She had a sad expression on her face as she said, "Hi, Alan."

"Hi, Dolores. Good to see you," I said, forcing a smile despite my lie. This led her to stand a little more erectly, thrusting her breasts out even more proudly, if that was possible. "I was told you need to speak with me?"

"Yes, Alan. I need to apologize and to introduce you to Kyle."

"You don't need to apologize to me for anything, Dolores, nor to introduce me to him."

"But I do," she said, almost at a whine. "I told you that I couldn't be with you and the reasons for that, but I was starting to feel too much for you and needed to push you away to keep from getting in any deeper. That's why I didn't call or contact you. I figured that since we weren't officially dating, I didn't owe you anything, but I realized, after the fact, that was, well, cruel to you, since I knew you liked me and wanted more."

Lowering my voice where only she'd be able to hear, I replied, "Yeah, it felt pretty shitty, if you want to know the truth. And then you start fucking him."

It must not have been quite low enough because Kyle the Bodybuilder overheard and gave me a perturbed frown. "Listen, to her, man. Please."

Dolores had a pleading expression as she continued. "It wasn't like that, Alan. I pushed you away, thinking I wouldn't see you any more, and then you called and left that message. I felt really bad when I heard it--and, yes, I know, I should have--but I was too chicken to call you. I didn't meet Kyle until a few months ago, long after we were through, and he talked to me, helped me, and led me to see that I needed to apologize to you. I really am sorry, Alan. I was thinking of myself, but I never meant to hurt you. I know that probably doesn't mean much, but I hope you'll come to forgive me someday."

While obstinate as hell, she'd always been a truthful person in high school and in our time together in recent years, so I had no reason to doubt her here. I looked at Kyle. "You love her, man?"

He nodded. "Very much so."

"Take care of her, then, and be patient with her when she screws up, okay?"

She had a hurt expression cross her face at my little insult, but Kyle smiled and nodded.

Turning to Dolores, I added, "Dolores, we weren't ever 'official,' so technically, I guess you didn't do anything wrong, despite how much it hurt me. I forgive you for, oh, what you said, that cruelty, and now I hope you have a happy life."

She leaned into me, pressing those large, soft breasts against me, giving me a goodbye hug. Her softness was intoxicating, but I was careful to keep my hands away. I think she wanted a goodbye kiss, but after several seconds of uneasiness, I patted her back as if a child before peeling her away and giving her a gentle nudge toward Kyle.

He mouthed a "Thank you" as he held out his hand. I shook it once, feeling his rock-hard grip, and got an unintentional look at his cock as he turned and led her away.

Based on the way he was treating her and what I'd seen, I suspected that Dolores would be quite happy with him.

***

My rounds continued and by 4 PM the paid attendance had grown to nearly 2,000 people. The voluntary donation jug, an office water bottle, was almost full of coins and cash, and our raffle of a nice, donated road bike had raised several hundred dollars more. I drew the winning ticket number at 4 and a Jacob Schilling of Point West, Wyoming, won the prize. The first significant number of people started leaving after that, though a few people continued to wander in to take advantage of "half-price tickets after 4" until the gate closed at five.

Throughout the afternoon, we'd been getting word that attendees were telling Buffaloes and Bisonettes how much they'd enjoyed the event, and that they hoped we'd host it again the following year. Assuming this was as successful as it seemed, I started wondering if the county would let us do it again or if they'd sue us over some clause or another that we'd missed in the rental contract and end up making it all for naught.

After the gate closed, Jeremy's team reported that we'd reached 2,063 paid attendees. There was a steady stream of people leaving by then, and Nessa was busy texting again, message after message, trying to get people out safely. While we hadn't offered beer or alcohol sales, we were still worried about the BYOBers and that they might drive drunk. That was one of my big fears, too, so I wasn't surprised when she sent out yet another message about it. Then, moments later, she sent another:

Nessa: & make sure everyone is fully clothed before leaving gate. Don't want county police giving indecent exposure citations to anyone on their way home!

I cracked up at that one, having been so concerned about the prospect of drunk drivers I hadn't even considered that obvious possibility.

While the event ended at six, it took quite some time to see all the attendees on their way and to get things cleaned up. A number of us would be back for final cleanup before church the next morning, but we wanted to get as much done as we could to minimize the effort on Sunday morning when there'd be a much smaller crew. We reached that point around 8, about an hour before sunset.

"Thanks, everybody! Great job today, everyone!" I called to the tired Buffaloes and Bisonettes making their way toward their vehicles. All of the tents were down except the HQ tent (which the funeral home planned to retrieve on Sunday afternoon), so I headed that way. With the front and sides rolled up as they'd been all day, I could see Nessa sitting at the back table in front of her laptop. Her eyes appeared to be closed and her forehead was in her hands.

I stepped up behind her, placed my hands on her tense shoulders, and started to massage them.

"Nessa, you were incredible today, and you proved me so wrong," I said quietly. "I really thought we'd be lucky to get 100 people and that most of them would be pervy old guys out to look at the hot young chicks who either wouldn't show up or who wouldn't take off their bikinis if they did. I was wrong, and I apologize."

I eased off, planning to step away, but she replied, "Uh-uh, mister Grand Poobah. I didn't say you could stop that, and if you want me to accept that apology, you'd best not."

I laughed and returned to my massage, hoping to ease some small part of her tension. It went on for maybe a minute before Nessa spoke.

"Alan, I was wrong, too. Even knowing the advance numbers--I'm sorry, I should have shared them with you so you wouldn't worry--I still really underestimated how many people would show up. Even worse, I underestimated you. When you opposed the idea, I thought you'd refuse to participate, or, if you did, you'd be sullen about it all day. I saw you today, smiling and helping people, just like if you were at your hardware store."

She sighed softly as I hit a certain spot and dug in with my fingers.

"I was surprised at how quickly I could look past the nudity part and just see the person needing help," I agreed. "Well, for the most part."

"Your ex?"

"No, not really. Her boyfriend, maybe. Strictly for comparative study purposes."

"How'd you measure up?"

"No idea, but I suspect she won't be lacking."

She chuckled. "No, based on the look I got, I wouldn't think so either. Hey, don't stop!"

I was frowning at her as I resumed after letting go, but her eyes were closed again and she was relaxing under my efforts.

"See any other sexy ladies today?" she asked.

"Yeah, several actually. A few of them made my blood rush and my eyes bulge, but I tried to control myself and be professional. Then there was this one, but I never got a good look at her; even if I had, though, she wouldn't have given me the time of day. That's just the way it goes sometimes."

She bit her lower lip as she opened her eyes and looked around at me to nod. "You know, there was one thing I was really disappointed about today, too."

"What's that?"

"That you never had the opportunity to take off your clothes. I didn't know if you'd actually do it, but I was sort of hoping for a look if you did."

My hands froze on her shoulders as I looked into her eyes. "Nessa, it was you. You were the one I never got to see."

She rose from the chair and turned toward me, sweeping her arms around me as we came together. "Oh, Alan, I know it's getting late, but the day's not over."

It was like a dam, the levee between us, had broken and I was holding her tight against me for the first time. My hard-on, so carefully controlled all day, was suddenly back with no way to control it. I'd asked so many times and been denied each time, but here, now, I had to try one more time, to see if she really meant it the way it sounded.

"True, Nessa. Would...would you like to come over for a drink?"

She looked at me as her hands ran over my back. I expected a "No," but was almost praying for a "yes." I got neither.

"Do you have a hot tub?"

My heart sank. "Uh, no, sorry."

"No, don't be," she said, looking into my eyes. "I do, and my house is east on County 132, second house on the left. The old Caruso place. The front door will be unlocked when you arrive. Lock it as you come in; I'll be in back in the hot tub, waiting."

She brushed her lips against my cheek causing me to quiver before leaning in to my ear and whispering, "Just so you know, it's still Nude Day. Once you step through that door, wearing clothing will not be an option for the rest of the night."

She kissed my cheek again, reached down to put away her laptop and pick up her portfolio and bag of spare batteries, and then walked away, leaving me open-mouthed.

A throat clearing over to the side attracted my attention but not my view. I was too busy watching her. It was Uncle Horace, one of the few Buffaloes who'd enjoyed full-body sunshine for a while earlier in the day, who was apparently watching much like me.

"Fun day, Alan. Now, you two've been heading for a good-ole, knock-down, drag-out, or a good fuck for a long, long time. I hope this means what I think it means, but I'm still shocked it's taken as long as it has."

When Nessa disappeared from view, I turned and stared at him, but he was already walking away, whistling.

***

There were a couple more things I had to do before departing, and a couple more people who needed a moment of my time, but I got out of there as fast as I could and arrived at Nessa's minutes later. The front door was indeed unlocked, so I entered, closed and locked it behind me, and then found my way to the back.

Unlike what Nessa had said, I was fully clothed when I pulled up a chair and sat down next to the hot tub. It was recessed so I had a good view of her sitting there in front of me with the tub running on low, a quiet rumble. She had a poutlike expression, looking at me questioningly as if wondering why I wasn't joining her, but she offered me some wine. I poured a glass, poured her another, and sat back down, taking a sip before I started.

"Nessa, it's been nearly a year and I think we've become friends but you've never once given me the time of day. What is this? Just a quick way to relieve pressure after the sights and experiences of today? Or is there something more to it?"

Her breasts floated at the top of the water, with her making no attempt to keep them covered. Large, gorgeous areolas circled nipples that looked like they'd point quite nicely at the slightest brush or lick. With the water churning gently, I couldn't really see details below, but I could tell she wasn't wearing a bikini bottom.

Nessa leaned back, running her hands over her breasts and giving a little pinch as she arched her back, thrusting suddenly full points out of the water, where the water streamed down her slopes, and dripped off her nipples into the churning water. It was as if she was letting me get a good look to excite me before she settled back, letting them down on top of the water once more.

"I told you once that my ex told the WD40/duct tape joke way too much..."

"Yeah?"

"Alan, I lied."

I was confused. "I admitted it was a silly joke. If you didn't like it, you only needed to tell me; you didn't need to embellish it. If you think back, I haven't mentioned it again since...even though I'm an engineer."

"Oh, not about that, silly." She laughed, breaking at least a bit of the tension I was feeling. "Alan, I told you my ex told it. He wasn't...wasn't my ex, I mean. The bastard was still my husband at the time and still was until about three months ago. He did everything in his power to obstruct and delay our divorce, fighting me every step of the way. We'd get close and he'd file new objections, and then seek postponements. I don't know for a fact but he may have had compromising photos of the judge from college." She giggled.

"Or else had a great divorce attorney."

"Oh, he did, the best. Ever hear of Rafael Bonaduce? In New Jersey, they call him the crown prince of divorce since his father was a big divorce attorney before him. He handles a lot of the big divorce cases of celebrities and people who think they have more money than God."

"Name sounds vaguely familiar, but I'm not sure. I don't follow celebrities very much. So your husband was rich enough to afford him?"

"No, not afford. He was my husband, Rafael Bonaduce, my ex and his own lead divorce attorney."

Now I could see where she could have trouble. "So you were married to a divorce attorney but then had to oppose him in court?"

"Well, he had one of his subordinates handle things in court, but Rafael was pulling the strings. And, yes, that's why I had to be so careful. See, when Rafael and I met, he was seven years older than me and already well established in his profession. I was 23, just a year out of college and starting grad school, and we fell head over heels in love. I'd had boyfriends before, sure, but never anything like that, so when he asked me to marry him, I agreed because I loved him so much. When he stuck a prenup in front of me--God, I know how stupid it is now, but didn't care it at the time--I loved him so much I signed it, thinking he loved me just as much."

Another light went on. "It was a little one-sided?"

"A little? It was all one-sided! I knew if I cheated on him, I'd get next to nothing out of the marriage, but that didn't matter. I didn't two-time when I was dating and I sure as hell don't cheat. What I didn't realize was that if he cheated on me, there weren't any penalties. He essentially had carte blanche to fuck anyone and everyone he chose without anything happening, whereas I had to walk on eggshells. He didn't have to prove infidelity on my part; all he had to do was alledge it and I'd practically be forced to prove it wasn't true."

"Oh, Nessa, I'm sorry. That's why you wouldn't go out with me, wasn't it? You were still married."

"Yes. Married and fighting to be separated, but with the prenup, Rafael's delays, and the judge, my attorney said my feet were still to the fire and my hoo ha--"

I frowned, not recognizing the term.

"--was in a legal chastity belt.

I snickered, involuntarily, as I finally recognized the euphemism.

She was smiling as she said, "Somewhat Shaggy Buffalo-esque, isn't it?"

We both laughed and then she refocused on me. "I think Rafael still hoped to trip me up, though, right up until the end. He knows how much I love sex and I really think he figured if he could make me go without it for long enough, I'd slip up. That's why he sent the P.I. after me, hoping to catch me, even when I should have been free."

"A private investigator? What a bastard, punishing you even when your marriage was over."

"Yes, I was married to him for nearly eleven years and I gave him everything he wanted, but that still wasn't enough. He needed..."

She paused, a hurt expression on her face, as she almost spat out the words. "...pussy on the side. It was a power thing to him, getting more than the other guy, at the negotiating table, in the courtroom, in the bedroom."

"I'm so sorry, Nessa, for all he put you through."

"Thanks, Alan. Anyway, being in the midst of a heated divorce, I couldn't see you or be seen in public with you since Rafael might have used it against me and stolen what I deserved, particularly if the P.I. found me--a friend in the paralegal pool tipped me off on that. I went to the judge late one afternoon, got my name changed back to my maiden name while the proceedings were being drawn out, and I got a college friend who's a realtor to find me a property I could lease with an option to buy. I could disappear that way and Rafael would be more likely to leave me alone. I got a prepaid phone and didn't use a credit card for months. I was on sabbatical from my job so they still had my old home address, and Rafael's guy never caught up."

I toasted her with my glass on her successful escape and she made the same motion before we both took another drink. She set her glass to the side so it wouldn't fall into the tub. Her eyes closed for a moment and her hands slid into the tub, where she waved them like she was slowly treading water. My eyes betrayed me, fixating on the corresponding movements of her boobs and it was all I could do to keep from letting out a low moan.