Muddy Ch. 01

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Note to reader: The idea for this fictional story came to me in a dream. Some of the story is true and I incorporated personal events as part of the plot. Most of the story is fantasy. All characters are adults.


Bruce and I were fraternity brothers at the university and we bumped into each other at the mall. We had decided to hang out together and catch up with our lives. We went to the restaurant pub inside the Galleria. I like to sit in the little fenced in area outside the pub that is still inside the mall. When we were in college we would often sit there to girl-watch. Most of the females we saw were high school girls. You can spot them a mile away — squirrely. I often think back to my high school “daze” where I walked around with a perpetual hard-on. I often wonder what it would have been like to score back then. But alas, I remained a virgin until my first year at the university.

Bruce pointed out a woman to me who was walking toward us from the right across the mall from us. I made a quick glance to identify who he was talking about and then looked back to my left. Sitting patiently for her to pass by so I could then view her, I noticed that she was carrying two large bags with groceries in her arms. There is a grocery store attached to the mall.

I could see that she was jostling the bags to get a better grip when suddenly one fell to the ground. The sound of the bag hitting the floor is all too familiar as I have done the same while living at home helping my mother. Seeing the woman drop to her knees to retrieve the oranges rolling around on the tile floor, I leaped over the pub fence and dashed over to where the woman was kneeling.

“Here, let me help you.” I said as I picked up oranges, frozen peas, and cans of soup.

“Really, you don’t have too.” She said

“No problem at all.” I said.

As I gathered the items and kneeling before the woman, I stood the paper bag upright to repack it. When the bag was full again, I looked up to her face and our eyes met. I felt a shockwave. It was almost like an earthquake. Dumbstruck is what you could say I was like. It felt like an eternity in the few seconds before she smiled at me.

Let me take a moment to describe her. From a distance, I judged her to be about my age, maybe a little bit younger. She’s average height, slightly curvy — just the way I like a woman to be — brunette hair in a ponytail through the back of a baseball cap, and a triangular face. She was wearing a Pink Floyd Dark Side of the Moon tee-shirt, blue jeans, and heels. Her curves filled out the jeans perfectly and they looked as though they were painted on. Her breasts were appropriate for her frame.

“Thank you.” She said as I picked up the bag and stood upright.

“Where is your car? I’ll help you carry these to it.”

“I parked at the other end.”

I turned to Bruce and he gave me a salute with the thumbs up like a fighter pilot gets when ready to take-off. The rule in college was that if one guy gets a chance with a woman, the other guy does not try to intrude and gives the approval sign acknowledging he’s on his own now. I started walking and took the other bag from her. As we walked I told her my name and stuck out my hand under the grocery bag.

She said: “I’m Muddy.”

The puzzled smile on appeared on my face. She said it’s common whenever she says her name to a stranger.

“Michelle Urlishaw Durley. I’m named after a guy who saved my father’s during the Grenada campaign back in the 80’s. My mother said she fought to have a different first name because of the initials, but father said it was his grandmother’s first name. When I was born, I became Muddy.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Jeff Waters”

We left the mall and walked to her cheap Honda outside in the sun. When she opened the rear door I could see that there is no way the groceries would fit in the back seat. The car’s interior is stuffed with all kinds of things. It looked like she might have been living in the car but was not. Muddy opened the trunk and had to move a few things around for the groceries to fit inside. I put down the groceries and smiled at her. It was then that she started to cry.

I asked: “What’s the matter? Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, no. It’s not you.”

“What then?”

The crying was easy at first. Then without warning, Muddy looked into my eyes and started to cry almost as bad as Lucille Ball in the I Love Lucy television program. I stood there for a moment watching as her eyes closed and she started to shake. As a gesture of concern, I placed my hand gently on her shoulder and she took a step forward and clutched on to me tightly. She cried into my chest for several moments until she realized that she was in the arms of a stranger.Quickly retreating, Muddy wiped her tears away and then saw that her makeup had run onto my shirt staining the front.

“Oh! I am so sorry. I’ve stained your shirt.”

Looking down at the mascara on my white polo shirt I said: “It’s konyaaltı escort nothing.”

“I need to wash it. Where’s your car at?”

“I don’t have one here. I walked from the university.”

“Get in the car. I’ll take you to my place where I can wash your shirt.”

When I tried to sit in the front seat of the Honda, before I could sit, Muddy was tossing things over the headrest into the back. I sat down and we started driving.

“I’m sorry for the outburst back there.”

“It’s alright I was worried I had stepped on your foot or something. I can be a bit clumsy at times. May I ask why you were crying?”

“My husband left me for another woman last year. In the last few months of our marriage he was very mean to me. He would criticize everything I would do. He even told me I was worthless as a wife and even more worthless as a woman. When I saw you standing there with the bags in your arms you smiled at me. It was the first time anyone had smiled at me in a long time. When you touched me on the shoulder, I could tell you are a kind man and I just lost it.”

“Wow! I’m sorry to hear that Muddy. I can’t believe what a dick, oops, sorry. I mean jerk, what a jerk your husband is. I mean, anyone who would leave a woman like you has to be a certified fool.”

Muddy smiled as she drove. Her home was only a few blocks from the mall. Turning the corner into the subdivision of single family homes, I could see that the neighborhood was well kept, but not opulent. It was a typical middle-class neighborhood with well-kept homes and nice front yards. We turned into a home with little in the way of front yard vegetation. The grass was brown, weeds in the planters, and the backyard pecky cedar fence was starting to fail. It appeared the house was about mid-eighties construction.

Muddy opened the trunk and I stepped out to retrieve the bags. She had pushed the remote to open the garage door. We walked a maze through the garage dodging a household of furniture and boxes shoulder high. Inside, I could see that the home was sparsely furnished. The lack of furniture allowed her heels on the tile floor to echo against the plain walls. Each step reverberated like the sound you would hear walking through a dark castle.

I set the bags on the kitchen counter and stood there. Muddy pulled the cold items out and placed them into the tiny executive refrigerator on the counter. The other items went into the cupboards. Austere is an understatement. The house looked like the occupants were moving and only had one more load to complete the job. I later learned that everything in the house was her husband’s before they got married and he would come by to move it out of the garage next weekend.

Muddy told me to take off my shirt so she could wash it. I did and handed it to her. When she saw my chest I thought I heard a gasp. I’m in very good shape because my undergraduate degree was on partial athletic scholarship. I played basketball and our coach kept us physically fit. I still work out at the gym three days a week.

Muddy tried not to stare at my pectoral muscles, slightly hairy chest and six-pack, but I could tell she was. She turned toward the sink and ran the water to wet the shirt and started washing it by hand. When we walked down the hall from the garage I noticed that there was no washer or dryer in the laundry room. Scrubbing away at my shirt Muddy started talking to me.

“What are you studying at the university?”

“Law, I want to be a criminal prosecutor.

“How far along in your studies are you?”

“I graduate this coming fall with my Juris Doctorate.”

Wringing out the water from the shirt, Muddy went out back through the sliding glass door to the patio and laid my shirt over a patio chair to dry in the sun. She came back inside and asked if I would like a soda. She pulled out two cans of soda and we stood there in the kitchen looking at one another.

“Where are my manners?” Muddy said. “Would you like to sit down? I can bring a couple of chairs inside from the patio.”

“Sure, I’ll help you.”

The small dining area next to the kitchen was empty and I grabbed two chairs from outside and brought them inside. We sat facing each other. Muddy sipped her soda and held it to her mouth to keep from smiling. I was a bit too quiet perhaps as I watched her eyes brighten as she looked at me.

“Tell me about yourself.” I asked.

“Born and raised right here. My father was a union carpenter and my mother was homemaker. She would babysit toddlers during the day for extra money. I’m an only child and went to college at State and now work at Walmart as a checker. How about you? What’s your story?”

“I too am an only child. I grew up a few hours north. My father was an Army veteran and married my mother after his first hitch. He stayed in the Army for two tours of Viet Nam and had me late in life. My mother was thought to be infertile, but after about 15-years of marriage, I came along unexpectedly.”

Muddy continued: “Right after kültür escort high school I went to State to study business. I met my husband in my Economics class and we started dating. I fell madly in love with him. We decided to get married after we both finished our degrees. His was in criminal studies and he became a police officer. We married when he finished the academy and bought this house together. We were married for about two-years when I noticed him starting to change. He became surly and distant. His attitude was no longer the happy go lucky man I married. He told me once that there are only two people in this world, criminals and suspects. It wasn’t long before I smelled perfume on his uniform when he came home. He said it was from handling drunken women as he helped them into his patrol car. One day when I was doing laundry, I noticed lipstick on his underwear. I normally don’t wear lipstick and I confronted him about it. He got mad and told me he was leaving me for another woman. Someone he met on the job during a domestic disturbance call. He had been seeing her for six-months and I never knew about it. He told me it was overtime when he came home late from work.”

I could see the tears to form in her eyes again as she talked.

“When he left, I went to a divorce attorney and learned about community property laws.” All that stuff in the garage was from his mother’s house when we got married. The only thing I got to keep was the bedroom furniture. Everything else we had was his.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. The circumstance you described are typical for cop wives. I’ve sat in on divorce proceedings and the story rang true time after time. The cop becomes suspect of everyone and therefore changes his or her personality. They deal with bad people every day and it’s hard to not have it rub off on you. I’m not justifying his actions, but understand what lead to your divorce. Is your divorce final now?”

“Yeah, we signed the documents day before yesterday. He has until next weekend to get his stuff out of the garage. I got the house and he got the new pick-up truck and the few furnishings we bought together. There’s a lean on the mortgage for his half of the house’s present value which is about nil. We bought over our heads and home prices have barley raised since we bought last year.”

Muddy and I chatted for the next hour or so. My shirt had dried and Muddy drove me back to the university where I parked. I was at the library conducting legal research when I decided to walk to the mall for a beer and some lunch. That’s when I ran into Bruce.

As Muddy dropped me off, I turned to her in the car and said: “I’d like to get to know you better, would you like to have dinner with me sometime? Is tonight too soon? I know where you live now and can come and pick you up at say, 8:00 O’clock.”

“That would be wonderful. I haven’t been out to a restaurant for dinner in a long time.”

“Perfect then; do you like to dance?”

“Of course, what woman doesn’t?”

“Great! I know just the place. It’s a bit of a drive so to give us time to get there before the restaurant closes, how about I pick you up at 6:00 O’clock instead?”

“I’ll be ready then.”

We exchanged pleasantries and I watched her drive away. Before I went back to my apartment, I got a haircut and a barber shave. No matter how well you think you do shaving your own face, a barber shave makes your skin as smooth as silk. Well worth the money and time to get a barber shave. I highly recommend it.

I arrived back at my apartment about an hour before I had to leave to pick-up Muddy. Sitting at my computer I answered a few emails and watched some YouTube videos before showering and putting on my slacks, button down collar oxford shirt and blazer. My daily driver is not good enough for going on a date so I pulled the Ferrari 308 GTS out of the garage and drove it to pick-up Muddy.

As a kid I watched Magnum P.I. on television and fell in love with his car. I vowed that I would someday have one like his. When my father died from Agent Orange disease, his insurance policy was huge and not only paid off the house for my mother, but also established a trust fund for my college expenses. I also received $50,000 cash from his savings account. I now know why we lived so poorly. Dad was saving money for me.

I knocked on Muddy’s front door as the Sun had just dropped below the horizon. It was twilight and almost dark when Muddy turned on the porch light and opened the door. My dick started to fill when I saw what she was wearing. She had on a spaghetti strap little black dress that barely covered her crotch. She was wearing tan nylons with peek-toe pumps. There was a small ankle bracelet on her right leg with a heart on it. Her hair was curled and framed her face perfectly.

“Wow!” Was all I could say.

“You like?” She asked as she spun around before me.

“You bet. Muddy I already liked the way you looked this afternoon, but now you are stunning!”

I held out my arm for her as markantalya escort she closed and locked the door behind us. We walked to the driveway where she saw the Ferrari.

She stopped and said: “Is this your car?”

“Yeah, I bought a few years ago with my inheritance money. Dad scrimped and saved for me to go to college and his life insurance paid handsomely when he passed away.”

“Oh my, I’ve never got into a Ferrari before.”

“It’s pretty low to the ground so I will need to help you get in. Face me with your back to the inside. Hold my hands as you sit down and lean your head forward as you sit. Now, lift your legs into the car.”

I watched her lovely legs swing inside the car and she smiled at me as I closed her door. I went around to the driver’s door and got in. The engine roared to life when I turned the key. There is no mistaking the sound a Ferrari makes as we drove away. Driving carefully I shifted through the gears as easily as I could. When we drove on to the freeway onramp I grabbed second gear and brought the horses out. We both pushed back in our seats as the engine brought us to just above freeway speed. I throttled back and settled in with the flow of traffic.

People looked at the car and then us. They could see me in my dress clothes with a beautiful brunette sitting by my side. Muddy was radiant as we drove toward Los Angeles. A couple of kids in their rice burners tried to goad me into racing them. I just smiled and waved as they sped away. The last kid that tried had a GRT that was quite healthy and when he took off, he sped away from me like I was standing still. The traffic was light, and about a half of a mile ahead of me I saw a California Highway Patrol car sitting under the overpass on the side of the road. The GTR went past him at well over 100 MPH and the red lights of the Hellcat came on. I passed the CHP doing about 70 MPH. It wasn’t long before I heard the whine of his fire breathing V-8. The cop chased the GTR into the distance and was out of sight before we made the next bend in the highway.

We pulled into the valet parking of the restaurant in Beverly Hills. When I handed the key to the valet I handed him a $20 and asked him not to joy ride. Inside, we were greeted by the receptionist and followed her to our table. We ordered a bottle of wine and a small appetizer before dinner. The meal was perfect. She had the prime rib and I ordered the Spenser steak. After dinner, we went out to get the Ferrari. The valet had parked it right next to the valet stand. I handed the ticket to him along with another $20 saying thanks for parking it so close.

The valet escorted Muddy to her side of the car and opened the door for her. We drove about 5-minutes to a night club on the way back home. I repeated the same thing with the valet at the club. Muddy and I danced the night away. We fast danced to the electronic beat of trance music and then I held her close when the slow songs were played.

Muddy had on a demi-bra that held her breasts up but had nothing covering her nipples. I could see them standing at attention each time we walked back to the table where we were sitting. Muddy reached for my hand as we sat resting. When I looked into her eyes, I could tell she was happy. Her face was aglow and she gripped my hand tightly as we sat.

She scooted next to me and I put my arm around her as we sat. Her skin was silky soft as I put my arm and hand on her bare shoulder. I would glance every so often down her dress and admire her cleavage, wondering how her tits would look naked. She never saw me looking as I always peeked when she was looking away.

About midnight, we danced a slow number and my dick was fully erect by then. She could feel my hardness as I held her close. Every now and then, she would look up at me and smile as she rubbed her body against mine.

“Do you want to get out of here?” I asked.

“Yes.” Was all that she said.

We drove back and on the way she said she would like to see my place. I pulled up to my apartment garage and stopped. I got out and opened the door for her to get out. As I pulled her up from the seat with my hands, she let go as she stood and kissed me. It was a soft and gentle kiss that was quick at first. She was testing the waters to see how I would react. The next kiss was longer and a bit more passionate. I broke the kiss and asked her to stand to the side while I moved the car into the narrow garage. I closed the garage door from the inside as we entered the ground floor of my apartment.

My college fund allows me to have a nice garden apartment with a fenced patio. On the other side of the fence there are Aspen trees and a walkway that meanders around an artificial brook with small bridges across it.

Once inside the living room of my apartment, I asked Muddy if she wanted something to drink. I offered her alcohol, soda or water. She walked to my mini-bar and opened the bottle of Jamieson and poured us two drinks on ice. Her back was to me when she made the drinks and when she turned, she model walked toward me with a drink in each hand. You know, the way runway models walk; placing one foot directly in front of the other so her hips move in a suggestive way. What a vision of sultry beauty she cast upon my eyes.

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