*popping antacids* 

*buuuuuuuuuuuuurp* 

*holding head* 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. My head hurrrrrrts. If I didn't have to be at work today, I'd be licking my wounds at home with Bee Dubya. 

Bud arrived - during the torrential downpour we had yesterday. Damn he looks yummy when drenched, no? (At least this time he didn't have the fire of a jilted lover in his eyes...)

He dried off and we chatted over coffee. Nice bloke. He took a nap to remedy the jet lag, while I finished up at work. 

I arrived back home, as giddy as a 2nd grader on the last day of school - ready to go to the Esperanza Bonanza - and show Bud a good ol' Southern good time. Awwwww. He looked so peaceful. Asleep. On my bed. NAKIE on my bed. Sheets tossed away. *Puddle*.

I didn't know if he was a lion or a lamb when awoken, so I sat on the bed - arm length's distance - and gently spoke his name. 

That's what I was afraid of. In such a deep slumber, my voice wasn't rousing him. I gathered the courage to stroke his thigh. Ah - that's it. A grin slinked across his face and he began stretching and muttering sleepy nonsense words. He yawned and rolled over on his belly, sinking his face into the pillow.

"Hey, doll. What time is it?" 

Doll. He really does say that. I grinned. 

But...what if he just uses that moniker because he doesn't remember who he's with...or where he is?

"...Tina. Babe. Anyone home?" He was pushing on my leg with his toes. Guess that answers my question. Relieved.

"Yessir! I'm here - sorry. Just thinkin'..."

"Mmmm, why don't you come over here and tell me what's in that pretty little head of yours?" 

Anyone else but Bud and I would have shoved my foot up their ass with that comment. 

He rolled to his side, and patted the bed, in a come-hither gesture. Yeah...I knew what he wanted. Had the morning-er-afternoon woody, I saw. The kind that could be cured with a nice long whiz in the bathroom.

I decided to have a bit of fun with him. 

"Is that how it is, huh? You guys are all the same! Just because Hando is my guy - that says something about me, eh? You think I'm the town bike and will just drop trou' for any nice piece that ends up naked in my bed, huh? Fat chance, flat foot. Get up, get dressed. You need some air to clear those ideas out of your skull."

I was smiling as I said this to him and my tone was playful, but there was truth in my words. It is a burden to bear - being the veritable play-toy of a skinhead. I know what people think of me. Dirty, low moral girl. No self-esteem.

Sick in the head. I can see it in the brother's eyes. The pity. People have no idea - none. But they will! Soon...

He gave me a frustrated play-growl and rolled off the bed. 

Damn, it's a nice day, I thought as I sat on my front porch, suckin' on a long-neck. The rain had galloped away as quickly as it trotted in. The temperature had dropped 10 degrees, but it made up for the humidity now present.

All was temporarily right on my planet. Gonna go to the Bonanza, with a fine lookin' dude at my side...be the envy of the entire opposite sex present (and maybe some of the same sex...and farm animals too...)

A truck pulled into the driveway. "Oi...you goin' to the fair?" the Tattooed Wonder shouted from the driver-side window. Could he possibly look any more delicious? His tanned face and arms...the ball cap...the sunglasses...

"Yeah." I hollered back. Please, go home before Bud sees you. I'm really not in the mood for all that pissing-match bullshit! 

He turned off the ignition and exited the truck. Yes, he does get more mouth-watering it seems. Faded blue jeans, ripped in strategic places. Damn, I love me a blue-collar man.

I must have seemed nervous, because he pulled his sunglasses to the tip of his nose and gave me the once over. For fuck's sake, put those peepers of yours away before I have to do you right on the hood of your truck, man!

The front door slammed. "I'm ready to go! Where are the keys? I'm driv..." Bud stopped abruptly as if someone pushed the "pause" button. 

Why is it that I was born with such an infinitely "down-in-the-gutter" mind? 

Seeing the two of them standing there - and not knowing what was to happen next, all I could do was think of what it would be like to have both of them. In the biblical sense. At the same time. I could just imagine my lips wrapped around that chunk of manhood buried in those rather tight jeans that Bud was sporting.

Hando would be in his usual position, fast and furious - from behind. 

And then...pigs started to fly. Hell froze. And my neighbor apologized for breeding the stupidest children this side of the Mississippi.

"Mate? Good trip?" Hando extended his hand to Bud, and forced a smile. 

"Yes, tiring, though." They shook hands and stared, incredulously, at one another. 

"I know what you mean. The plane travel gets me every time. Sorry to barge, just wanted to let her...and you...know that the rain has made things a bit muddy at the fair. I've had my team out there spreading sand for the past few hours. You may want to wear some boots..."

"Thanks, H." I beamed at him. This display was for me, I just knew it. A result of many late nights of convos. I was so proud of him that I momentarily lost my noodle. "Why don't you come with us? I'm sure your biker pals will be there - don't they have a barbeque booth..."

Bud immediately stiffened and bristled at my suggestion. Hando smiled a new smile at me...one I hadn't seen before. "Actually, I have to go home and shower. I'm meeting them in a few hours."

"We can wait, can't we, Bud?" I pleaded with my eyes. 

"No, don't be a silly bint. Take the man around and show him some of your Southern hospitality. I have some things to do." 

Bud relaxed as Hando spoke. I nodded and H. left with a wave. I watched as he drove to his house and parked in his garage. 

"I didn't know he moved out. He actually has a job?" 

"There are plenty of things that you know nothing about, Bud." I quietly countered. I took a deep breath and swallowed the lump in my throat. Tossing him the keys, I motioned Bud to my pick-up truck.

Attempting to cross over the moat of awkwardness that was surrounding us, I perked up and put on my best Southern gal mask. I took Bud around to every booth, filling him up with dry-rub pork barbeque, beef barbeque, crawfish, potato salad, apple pie, funnel cakes, and a never ending supply of Budweiser.

As the dark sky settled on the Esperanza Bonanza, we parked our asses on a bench and watched the children playing on the kiddie rides. Over the past few hours, we had become physically closer - holding hands - wrapping arms around waists - nudging each other and other methods of nonchalant touching. I can't lie and say that the beer wasn't assisting.

"This has been a real good time, babe. You Southern folks know how to enjoy life, that's a fact, ma'am." His shiny drunk eyes danced. 

"Just the facts, ma'am?" I laughed at him, trying my best Dragnet impression. 

We were leaned in close to each other. Bud propped his arm on the backrest and glided his finger up and down my cheek. His visage turned serious. "I had you all wrong. You were right - what you said earlier."

"What was that, Bud?" my hand drifted to his arm. 

"That I don't know anything - about you." He tilted my chin. "But I want to learn more. Teach me?" His voice was deep, quiet, devastating. 

I hunted his eyes for sincerity and found it...in spades. He may have been just handing me a smooth line, but fuck me swingin', it was working! My heart was doing a Dale Earnhardt - racing in circles. Would I make it to the checkered flag? Did I want to cross that finish line?

I swallowed with an audible gulp as his face moved closer to mine. His pupils were dilated wide with motive. I was scared, aroused, giddy, and nauseated all at once. His lips brushed mine gently. I placed my hand on his chest in a gesture of intimacy and was given a more firm kiss in response. My need caused me to shiver.

"Cold?" he asked, knowing I was everything but. I shook my head, but he still pulled me in close and leaned his head against mine as we watched the fireworks light up the darkness.

I went looking for Bud when I figured he had plenty of time to return with the beer I requested. There, at the drink booth, he was leaning against the counter - flirting with a skinny blonde chick. I had to laugh to myself. She really was the town bike. I caught the last part of their exchange.

"...oooooo Bud White? Tha'ssa fine name. Do folks call you Bee Dubya for short?" she purred.

He blushed (?!) and looked down to his muddy boots. "No ma'am...that is a new one."

Bud is SUCH a man, you know? 

I tiptoed up behind him and whispered in his ear, "Now, if you want a go with the town bike, you have found her. I hear she could suck-start a Harley." 

He straightened up and whirled around to me, obviously embarrassed. "Here's your beer, doll!" He gave me a toothy smile and bid farewell to the blonde bimbo. As we strolled towards the exit, Bud tried to stammer out an explanation, which tickled my funny bone and I ended up in a belly laugh. I ran the risk of making my semi-drunk feller angry - and that just wouldn't be fittin' huh?

I straightened up and downed my long neck. "Come on...it's still early...wanna see some sights?"

"What? What can you see around here at night?" 

"Oh, just trust me..."

A trip to the beer store. A trek down the long dirt Old Mound City Road to the river. The moon and stars were out in all their glory and the lights of downtown Memphis, across the river, sparkled - reflected on the water. We sat on the tailgate of the truck for a long while, drinking beer and talking about everything but us. He spoke fondly of the sisters, sharing the things that he liked and admired in each of them. Ann, Bou, Darcy, Uma, Reagan, Isobel... So many different personalities, yet so much in common.

Bud went to relieve himself for the third time since we parked on this secluded path. We were running out of things to talk about - but I didn't want the night to end. It had been too long since I had an enjoyable, easy conversation with another consenting adult.

"My turn!" I announced when he returned. I staggered to my favorite tree and did my duty. 

I strolled back to the rear of the truck and saw that Bud had found the blanket 

I kept handy in the cab, behind the seat. He stood as I approached, out of courtesy or nervousness, I couldn't decide. "Thought we'd look up at the stars a while."

With a knowing look, I sat down on the tailgate and drew a sip of my beer. With measured movements, Bud crept up to me and leaned in, placing both hands on either side of my legs, while the rest of his body was standing between mine.

"I've learned a lot about you tonight." Husky beer-laden voice. 

"Oh? What did you learn? That I could drink you under the table?" My stab at a joke did not faze him. 

He shook his head. "I learned that I want to know more." He was leaning in closer. 

I gulped audibly. Again. 

Fantasy something and experiencing it are two distinctly different things. My fantasies are the stuff of legends - in my own mind. Of course, I have all the courage in the world, there. Here, it's just me, Bud, and all the forest critters at the river's edge.

I decided that I couldn't do this. I couldn't get my feelings for Hando in control - why would I drag an innocent soul into my tormented world? I can't give him what he needs. I don't even know what I need.

"Bud, I don't..."

His lips shushed my plea. They were so soft and inviting. I was losing. I backed away from him, but he caught me with his arm. "Babe, how long has it been since a man made love to you?"

"Last we-..."

"No, I'm not talking about whatever sort of thing you and Hando have. I'm talking about this-." He kissed me full, on the mouth. "And this-." His lips traveled down my neck. "And this-."  More kisses on my throat, traveling down. It felt wonderful, exquisite, painful. I began to silently sob.

He stopped and pulled me into his lap as he sat down. That big burly man rocked me as I cried. With my head against his chest, I heard his voice rumbling,

"You've been wrapped up in this dark place for so long, you don't remember what it's like to share a tender moment with a man, do you? You don't think you deserve it, isn't that the truth?" With a firm grip on my arms, he turned me to face him. "It doesn't make you weak, understand? Hey..." he shook me gently, "Do you understand me, Tina?"

I nodded my head animatedly up and down. I'm sure I looked like a 5 year old. 

"Oh, Doll..." He hugged me fiercely, as if he was apologizing for being stern with me. I felt like a little girl in his arms. Safe. Relieved. "I think it's your turn to learn..." He placed me back on to the tailgate and stood before me. He held his hand out, a gesture of trust. I took his hand and he pulled me to a standing position, facing him. He is so tall compared to my short frame. I looked up to meet his eyes. With both of my hands now in his, he placed them on his chest. Soothing soft voice. "Take my shirt off."

I began fidgeting with the buttons. His paws clasped mine so quickly I was startled and I jumped. "Slowly, babe. Take your time." 

Take your time. That phrase rang in my head. How long had it been since I had done anything on my time? I gulped. Again. And set about my task in the manner I was instructed, as Bud gently ran his palms up and down my arms.

The wife-beater. He was wearing the wife-beater. My knees were turning to jelly as I took in the sight of his powerful arms and chest - and the wife-beater. Bud took the cue to pick me up and carry me to the bed of the truck. Once positioned comfortably - me on my back, him on his side - he placed his hand on my cheek and drew me into a serious, succulent kiss. His tongue, gently probing my lips - to which I opened freely.

I timidly moved his hand to my breast and was given a shuddering moan in response as he lightly squeezed it through my shirt. He gathered me to his body and impressed on me his need. The kissing and petting became exponentially more involved and then ramped down to a steady simmer.

Bud pulled away from me and rose to a kneeling position. I sat up and joined him. Pushing my arms above my head, he relieved me of my shirt. His fingertips guided my bra straps off my shoulders and sent goose pimples rampantly over my skin. With his thumb and forefinger, Bud deftly popped the front-open clasp and my breasts spilled forth in the moon light. His eyes worshipped me in a manner that I had not experienced in a great while. His hands held my breasts as his thumbs circled my nipples.

It wasn't long before I was hypnotized by his eyes and hands. I arose and pushed my jeans and panties off - nudging them to rest beside our boots and socks.

Before I could move back to kneeling, Bud had placed his hands on my ass and pulled my center to his face. He inhaled and brushed his face back and forth over the patch of hair. Bringing his hands forward, he parted my now weeping pleats with his thumbs and suckled my engorged clit. He pulled one of my legs over his shoulder for better access.

The smacking and moaning sounds emanating from Bud were almost as intoxicating as the feeling itself. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the ride. 

"Bud?" 

"Mmmph?" 

I retrieved my leg and looked down at his face, slick with my juices. "I want- I need you to make love to me. Now. I want to feel you within me. Make me whole again...please?"

As he rose to remove his pants, I laid down on the bed, eager to feel like I used to...back when.

Now, I have to say - there is something incredibly sexy about watching a man unbuckle his belt, undo the button, and push his zipper down. Maybe it's the anticipation of what will occur after a man completes the process - I don't know. I do know that laying flat on your back, with Bud towering over you, removing his clothes, devouring you with his eyes - with the moon and stars as a backdrop is Elysium on Earth.

He knelt down and moved over me, resting his torso on his elbows. His hands ran under my shoulder blades. Once his fingertips reached my shoulders, he bent down for a kiss and entered me in one stroke.

I don't care what anyone says, it hurts. It is like this with all the brothers. 

I welcome it, but right at the second of entry and flesh pushing on flesh - I want to run away. My body becomes tense, which only makes it worse. I like to think that Bud knows this- somehow - and that is why he chose the "fast and smooth" method with me as opposed to the "slow and sweet".

I gasped and tears fell from both of my eyes. I squeezed them shut, trying to hide them from him. 

"Doll, what did I tell you earlier? Huh? Open your eyes and look at me..." I did.

"It's not a weakness - don't ever hide from me or anyone else, got it?" I could hear the words and see his lips moving, but all I could do is feel his girth inside, stretching me to the limit. He tenderly pumped in and out once, and that is all it took. I came. It was the perfect orgasm. It rippled through my entire being before rebounding back to my center. I cried out, "Bud!"

"Oh yeah, babe, I'm here. That's it. Goooood girl." 

See, right after that intense pain, is the total 180. I think it is a gift that the brothers share, or else I am simply predisposed to quick peaks....nahhhh. Always the gentleman, Bud seemed to wait until he was absolutely sure that I was no longer in pain before he began moving quicker - and deeper. I watched as the veil of ecstasy washed over his face, rendering him dull to anything but the act in which he was performing at that moment. When he finally reached the finish line, we were 3 to 1. I could tell by the smirk on his face that he was quite pleased with himself. I wasn't complaining either.

We laid there, holding one another for another hour...at least until the case of beer was expended, napped, and then drove home in the wee hours of the morning.

How much beer is too much? I don't know - but my head hurts. 

You know, I lost my virginity in the back if a pick-up truck just like that one. 

I feel like I've done it all over again - but this time I found something. Or - at least - Bud helped me find it. An inner happiness that I was missing. How long had it been gone? When did I lose it? Is this the problem with Hando and I?

Too many questions for a hung-over individual to ponder. I wonder if Bud is feeling any better than I? He sure wasn't a happy camper when I left this morning...