First Date, part 4

After finishing the fine repast, everyone pushed back from the table with dull looks on their faces. I allowed as how this was the finest chicken I had dealt with in lo many a moon I felt very tired from lack of sleep and said so. I asked if there was a hotel or inn nearby where I might stay. Jen said there was no need as there was a spare bedroom I could use – her youngest son was off at work camp. God showed me the way upstairs and after stripping and plunking down I fell immediately into the golden, treasured slumbers of the woofed and well-fed.

A dreamless sleep was mine from the early evening hours till around 1:00 a.m. when I sensed someone in the room with me. I opened my eyes and saw that Jen, Mother of God was standing before the window, drenched in bluish-white moonlight and what did my wandering eyes aspire but that she was 100% butt-naked. It was a vision that elevated me because friends, she was looking good.

“I couldn’t help but notice you standing there all lovely in moonlight,” I ventured.

She looked at me for a full minute before responding. “Sometimes, a woman needs what only a man can deal out to her,” she said. “A woman has needs.”

I could not disagree and threw off the sheets as she approached, crouched slightly forward, quickly grabbing the business end of my pizzle with electric fluidity and skill. I lay back, my hands folded on the pillow behind my head and let her do her thing. Wow! I had never been confronted with such a bonus deal as this – it had all been quick bump and runs next to cars, in cars or in the weeds with squeaky, blubbering girls. This was like experienced, mature and expert and shit like that.

After some friendly overtures, Jen sprang accurately upon me and began to rodeo me with a rotational vigor that whumped the mattress up against the nightstand occasioning the music box upon it to give forth with a chimey version of “Cielito Lindo”.

My father always told me it was only polite and good manners to hold a door open for a lady, that there was no hurry for a man to go first, so I always took his advice and admitted the ladies prior to my capitulations. It’s a good policy and it paid off and paid off again as Jen made two entrances before I came in behind her. As our sweat mingled and she lay upon me I again noticed someone else in the room. This time it was God. Oh great, I thought.

Jen saw him and said, “Now son, go on back to your room. Your friend and I are working out some man business that I needed to consult with him on.” God spun and walked back out. “Don’t pay him any mind,” she said, rolling off and grabbing the snake again, teasing it back to life. She really looked way better deshabillee and soon I was ready for the bareback rodeo bucking contest once again. “Cielito Lindo” soon was serenading my serene and placid thoughts as I once again held the door open for the lady to enter. Her dexterity, concentration, persistence and vigor gradually culminated in another grand entrance to the realm of transcendent sensations.

I looked at the clock during an interlude and saw that it was now 5 a.m. I wasn’t sure whether we had finished six or seven escapades with the rampaging peacock, but it hardly mattered, her enthusiasm had scarcely waned or diminished. She was really a fun woman to be with, and resourceful too – always finding a way to inject life and jollity into the proceedings. We went another round and this time I climbed on top of her for a change.

She was delighted. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried. “I didn’t know you could do it this way! What is this called?”

“muh muh muh muh missionary, I think.”

As the sun was coming up, she returned to her room and I philosophically contemplated the grandiose splendor of life on planet Earth. But then I started to think: “What if Florrine was done wrong by the rednecks in the muscle car? What would I say to her father when I got back? That I had let her leave with drunken men headed south in Alabama? Aye yi yi! He would certainly kill me. I would kill me if I was him.”