Big Woodys

Flip – flok, flip – flok

There’s the windshield wipers, once again, dancing to their monotonous beat over the music on the radio.

Flip – flok, flip – flok

I’ve been driving in and out of Summer rain squalls since I left my apartment two-hours ago. The last three weeks have been hot and dry and, of course, the day I plan to make my long drive home, Mother Nature decides to hydrate her parched earth – go figure. Oh well, most of the traveling is behind me now, I’m almost to the small town where I grew up.

Flip – flok, flip – flok

Mom and Dad will be happy to see me; they’re always saying I don’t come home often enough. I think I do, but according to them I don’t. I’m sure I’ll understand when I have grown kids of my own one day…

“One day, pffftt,” I scoff to myself. My ‘one day’ was sure pushed back when I signed the divorce papers. Don’t get me wrong, it was very much needed for my sanity; but, if you asked me then that a year and half later I would still be a single woman; not to mention one probably regaining her virginity? I would have laughed in your face. It’s been a long time without a man, WAY too long, a woman has her needs; there’s only so much my fingers and toys can take care of…

Stop being so hard on yourself, Heather, I remind myself. You never were a jump-in-the-sack, one-night-stand, kinda girl. The perfect opportunity will come along, just be smart not to force it. As you can see, I’m really good at dishing-out sound advice to myself, but that doesn’t do much for my aching sex drive…

Flip – flok, flip – flok

I can’t help but smile and snicker every time I pass under my hometown’s welcome sign,

Welcome to Standale – Home of Michigan’s First Lumber Store – Big Woody’s

It was a Memorial Day weekend tradition for high school pranksters to climb up and paint over the apostrophe in “Woody’s”, making it say “Big Woodys” as an amusing homage to erect penises. Looks like the tradition is alive and well, Woody’s apostrophe has definitely been recently painted over.

I’ll never forget in 10th Grade, my best friend Josh and I lost a bet and were tasked with the deed of humorous vandalism. I remember being so scared climbing up that ladder in the middle of the night, so scared we would get caught, but Josh had my back and made sure everything went off without a hitch.

Speaking of bets; town’s folk used to have running bets on how long it would take the city to notice and repaint the apostrophe; that is until the year-old man Meryl, the town’s barber, cheated. He wagered it would last three-weeks, and when three weeks came due, he anonymously notified the Standale Public Works signage crew about it. Everyone knows it’s impossible to keep secrets in a small town and when word eventually got out, folks weren’t too happy. The old farts in the coffee shop pressured Meryl to make good and repay his ill-gained winnings, which he begrudgingly did…

Pulling into the driveway at Mom and Dad’s, I realize I forgot my house key back at my apartment and they’re both at work, well damn! I suppose I could call one of them to come let me in, but I hate to be a bother; I’ll just go over to Main Street and have a long lunch at Lorna’s Grill. Besides, I have my computer with me, I can get a few work tasks caught-up to pass the time. At the very least, the rain is letting up…

—–

Ah, Lorna’s – my first job was waitressing at this dive. Outdated décor aside, it really is the most popular burger and beer joint in the area, some nights I made a killing in tips. It’s funny how much better the food tastes when you’re no longer on the payroll. This beer is really hitting the spot for a mid-day refreshment too, maybe because a good Summer rain always leaves things so hot and humid.

Occupied with my laptop catching up on work emails and spread-sheets, I didn’t even notice I have a visitor standing at my table. At first, all I see the pelvic region a slender, jean-cladded guy patiently waiting for me. A perverted thought flashes in my brain of, Damn, Dude! Those jeans fit you nice! I’d be willing to bet there’s mighty fine package hidden in there- Okay, knock it off! I mentally scold myself. Earth to Heather! My brain resets to some semblance of propriety so I can look up to see if the rest of this man is as sexy as-

“Heather? It is you!”

“Josh! Oh my god! It’s so good to see you!”

I jump up and give my old pal a big hug and invite him to join me; it’s been years since we’ve last seen each other and we have some much needed catching-up to do.

Josh and I were the closest of friends going way back when he first moved here in the 5th Grade and all the way through high school. Even though we were close friends, for some reason we never explored anything more, we were always just that, friends. I would imagine he thought about the possibility of more between us; I know I sure as hell did on many occasions, Josh was always easy on my eyes.

At times, I’ve wondered why our natural curiosity never lead us to play doctor, or some good old-fashioned, “If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine.” Maybe it was because our relationship was always more akin to brother and sister? I think on some level we were afraid if we took things further, we would run the risk of ruining our, already wonderful, friendship. Whatever, no sense hashing over it now, that’s in the past…

I learned he accepted a job teaching computer science and program development at Grand Rapids Community College a year ago. Being it’s only a half hour commute, he recently moved back to our quiet hometown from where he was living after college in Muskegon.

I told him all about my big “exciting” city life in Chicago and my budding career at the advertising agency. As glamorous as it all sounds, my job can be downright mundane at times, and life in a city bustling with people can be pretty lonely when you’re on your own. I’ll admit, I haven’t been the most pro-active about putting myself out there; but, it’s tough coming out of a four-year marriage only to start all over from the beginning again.

Three or four beers later, we’re both laughing out loud; too loud at times, reminiscing about the funny people and events we remember. Josh admitted I was real trooper that night we painted out Big Woody’s apostrophe on the town’s welcome sign; he said he was so scared we would get caught, he almost peed himself. That’s a new one for me, I always thought it was the other way around…

Josh has had a couple of girlfriends since high school, but nothing lasting and the relationships flopped. I told him not to feel bad, my unfulfilling marriage ended a year and half ago and, here I am, still picking-up the pieces…

Josh always been someone I could comfortably say anything too; with a few beers in me lowering my inhibitions, some vocalized thoughts slip past my lips, “Damn, Josh, you’ve always been one to catch my eye; but, here we are, nine-years after graduation and you’re looking better than ever! What’s your secret? Do you work-out?”

His face flushes red, “Well…” he shrugs, “Nothing much… I try to watch what I eat… and, I run when I can…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot… The beverages are getting the better of my tongue…”

“No, it’s fine. You know, Heather, after I heard you divorced, I would be lying if I said I haven’t entertained thoughts about you and me. I’ve been debating calling you for the last few months.” Then he sheepishly adds, “Well, not exactly ‘debating’, more like I was just being too chicken shit to call…”

“Oh, Josh, you know you can call me anytime, I would have loved to hear from you! Since we’re being open and honest, calling you has crossed my mind as well. I guess you can include me in that same chicken shit club…” I smile.

“To the Chicken Shit Club!” Josh clinks bottles with me.

“Josh, can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“My ex was the only guy I was ever with. And, can you believe that in all this time, I still haven’t been with anyone? Sometimes I get so down because, let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger and-”

“You still look every bit of eighteen and gorgeous to me,” Josh beams. “When I saw you sitting here, I thought I had stepped back in time.”

“Aww, you’re just saying that,” I poo-pooh him.

“No, I’m not, “he looks me deep in my brown eyes, “I’ve always thought you were super-cute, back then, and even more so now.”

“I tell ya,” returning the look into his hazel eyes, “If we weren’t in a public place, I’d jump your bones right now… Seriously!”

Beer maybe getting the better of him as well, Josh blurts out, “I can think of a few non-public places!” Quickly realizing what just flew out of his mouth has him stumbling over his words, “Uh… that’s if… uh, that’s what you were leading to right? – Uh… I‘m so sorry, I’m such an idiot, forget-”

“You, my friend, are a fucking, world-class, mind reader!” I clink his beer bottle, “I love how there’s no beating around the bush with you!”

“Really?” he stops babbling and is incredulous.

“Yes, really! I mean why not? We’re adults now; we’re allowed a little mutual, no-strings, fun, aren’t we?”

“Yes, we are!” He whole-heartedly agrees. The waitress brings us each a fresh beer as Josh offers, “How about this? Do you want to come over to my place tomorrow night; I’ll make us dinner? Afterward we can… maybe, go catch a movie, or just stay in and unwind?”

“Sure!” I agree, “And, for the record, I’m perfectly fine with the stay at your place and ‘unwind’ part.” Damn, he’s looking even better and better to me. Josh is the perfect man to reintroduce myself to sex with. I wonder if I should tell him about some of the wild and kinky thoughts that have been occasionally occupying my mind?

Reading me again, Josh asks, “You’re getting that, I’ve got something more on my mind look, what’s up?”

“I really hope this won’t make you think I’m crazy, but-”

“It’s okay, I’ve always thought you were crazy,” he interrupts, which earns him a playful punch on the arm from me.

Nervous at first, but with a deep breath of courage, I charge ahead and lay it out for him. “A few months ago, I was reading an article in a medical journal that says the reason women tend to feel really good following sex is because male semen contains serotonin and oxytocin. Both of which are natural anti-depressants and immediately absorbed into the walls of the vagina. Oxytocin is actually known as the ‘love hormone’. Imagine that; in sex, you guys give us all-natural, human-produced, feel good drugs; isn’t that just the coolest?”

“Yeah, it is; I never knew that!” Josh’s face lights-up, clearly liking the direction of this conversation.

“So, here’s where my wild-ass thinking gets crazy. If the cum from one guy can make me happy; what would the cum from, say ten guys, or twenty do?” Biting my lip, I lower my voice and continue, “It’s kind of a fantasy of mine to think about a bunch of guys lined-up, peckers hard, and waiting their turn to fuck my pussy till they shoot-off. Only, I would be bound and blindfolded and not know how many there are, just one big, long, orgasm…”

Josh sits back taking this in.

“I know, I know,” I back-pedal, “It’s super-crazy… Just stupid sex-depraved thoughts I’ve had. Forget I-”

“No, it’s perfectly fine, Heather,” he puts his calming hand on mine, “Who hasn’t thought about willing partners lining up to have sex with them at one time or another? I know I have! One of my fantasies is to experience what it would be like to be in a cool ass rock band like Five Finger Death Punch, or Metallica, and have tons of hot groupies lined up back stage after the show.”

Smiling at him for understanding, I squeeze his hand, “But, seriously back to reality. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I could totally use a shot of your special, feel-good, stuff; if you’re up for it, that is?”

—–

Josh has a really cute farm house on the edge of town, complete with a small barn out back. Inviting me in, I can smell he’s cooking something fantastic. Remembering my love of Italian food, he’s prepared basil/butter sautéed shrimp served with cheese stuffed raviolis smothered in marinara sauce along with a toasted garlic loaf… Mmmmmm!

After dinner, I thank him with a well-deserved hug for preparing such a fantastic meal for me. Dishes put away, we move to the front porch to unwind with a couple glasses of red wine; not too tart and just the right amount of sweet, exactly the way I like it. I better be careful, or I might start falling for my childhood buddy; and, hopefully, soon to be bed-buddy.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that as a possible future; but before I think about settling down, I want to live out a couple of fantasies, things I feel I missed out on by marrying so young. Okay, so maybe the multiple guys lining-up to screw me is far-fetched, honestly that was more beer-talk than anything; but, I do have other, more realistic, goals I can entertain. Tonight, I just want some nice, no-strings-attached, feel-good, sex with my best childhood pal.

Needing to stretch my legs, I ask Josh to show me his house; I think he knows it’s my nonchalant way of asking him to show me to his room; and, what he keeps in his pants.

Since I’ve seen most of the first floor already, we head upstairs. The house has three bedrooms, but doors to two are shut tight. “We’ll have to skip these, they’re a huge mess right now and the last of my overall house renovation project I’ve been working on for the last couple years,” Josh explains.

“Well, you’ve done a wonderful job on everything else,” I complement him.

At the last door on the right, my host leads the way, “And, here’s where I sleep.” His master bedroom is extremely nice, very comfy, homey and traditional; I love the huge King-size four-poster bed. Sitting down, I rub my hands over the soft comforter inviting Josh to come sit next to me.

Awkward on how two platonic friends should start “making out”, I take the lead and put my hand behind his neck and pull his face to mine. Lips touching, this is a good start; Josh reciprocates and pulls me to him, now the passionate kissing begins. It’s been so long since I’ve had a man so physically close; simply feeling his warmth and his breath on me is sending tingly feelings all the way down to my toes.

My excited nipples are already hard as his hand accidently brushes over my left breast, I’m sure he had to notice it poking out. Unsure if he should touch me this way yet, he rests his hand on the bed. Picking it up, I slip it under my shirt so he can cup my bra. Lip kissing leads to extending our tongues to allow the two to become acquainted by letting them intertwine and dance their own waltz.

He helps me lift my shirt over my head, and I help him undo the buttons to remove his. Slowly we bare ourselves in close embrace feeling the warm, gentle, skin to skin contact as only two people can.

“Josh?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about tying my hands to the bedposts and blindfolding me?”

“I can, but you don’t wish to see me?”

“I do, but I want to get to know you with my other senses first. Believe it or not, I will form a very intensely erotic vision of you in my mind by touch only.”

“Okay, but I hope I won’t be a disappointment when you see me with your eyes…”

“Somehow,” I sly-grin, looking his toned, shirtless physique up and down, “I don’t think that’ll be possible.” Without overthinking the situation and risk changing my mind, I quickly remove the remainder of my clothes.