The adventures of Chuck the Engineer

First a note to the critics: to those who count the number of mis-spelled words in my stories, I apologize, and tell you that I made the effort to edit and proofread my stories, but the system published the uneditted version anyway, so I offer this comment. “PHUQ YEW” To the person who doubts the size of my enormous throbbing column of male splendor, “Sorry, you needle dicked girly puss. Big cocks run in my family, ask my sister.”
For those of you who truly enjoyed my past stories and found pleasure reading them, I write for you. Please let me know what you think of this one. It is a departure from my other genres. Enjoy.

Chuck



It had been one hell of a day. My job takes me to a lot of places. Unfortunately not many of them are what you would call exotic or really even picturesque. I am a field engineer for a major firm that specializes in the food industry. Because of that most of my work takes place in Podunk Hollow towns where grain elevators are the tallest structures, and the smell of whatever processing facility is there dominates your senses. Imagine my surprise when my boss sent me the travel dossier for my next trip and the destination was Chicago, IL. I called him to make sure that he had not made a mistake. He laughed and told me not to get too excited, I hadn’t seen the site.
When I arrived at the plant, I found that the only glamorous part of this job was the name of the company. Princeton Priceless Products was in an old rundown building on the wrong side of Chicago. I found a motel that looked like a place where I was less likely to be murdered in my sleep and checked in. The hotel was old and the furniture and décor was tired and worn out. The bed felt a little like a box of rocks, and the bed clothes smelled like they had been on the bed for weeks. Such was my lot in life. I had grown accustomed to these facilities, and had learned that a good bottle of Vodka had an amazing way of making anything okay.
When I knocked off for the day, I headed for a diner not far from my hotel and sat in a booth near the waitress station figuring I might meet a lonely gal who would appreciate a nice tip and possibly could provide him with some company when her shift ended. Try as I may, I was unable to get any of the three girls waiting the tables to give me as much as directions to go to hell. I finished my meal, eggs over medium, sausage, hash browns and whole wheat toast. I ate this meal as many as three times a day. It may have been boring, but few people could fuck up basic breakfast. I still left a nice tip, took one last look at the redheads nice set of tits and headed for the hotel. Just down the street from hotel was a small bar where I thought I might try again on the mission to secure some, if not free, comfortably affordable companionship for the evening. The bar was quiet, mostly empty except for a few guys with probably the same mission as mine and two couples who had had more than they could handle. The women were trying to get the men to leave and the men were basically telling them to go fuck off. From the sounds of the conversation they had been Army buddies who had met with their old outfits at a reunion. They were a little loud at times but considering their age, around mid-forties, they seemed to be doing fine. The women were frustrated and wanted to leave. Finally after a lot of bitching, the men called for the check and they moved toward the door together. Both men were having trouble standing. They must have had a lot to drink. The taller of the two women said she would drive and they left. I decided it was time for me to leave also.
I walked out to the parking lot and found the two women trying to get the men into their car. The minivan had sliding doors on both sides and the women had them open trying to assist their drunken husbands into the back seat. After they had the men in the car, the shorter woman, an attractive but plain redhead, climbed into the passenger’s side seat. The taller girl, a slender brunette walked around to the driver’s side. “I’ll drop you all off at your hotel first,” she said climbing behind the wheel. “Maybe if we drive them around a little they may sober up some.” The other woman offered “Ralph’s gone. You’re going to have to help me get him to the room.” The other man bellowed, “I’ll help you get him into the room. He’s my buddy.” And with that he passed out in the back seat. The women looked at one another and shook their heads in disgust.
I watched as they pulled out of the lot and turned in the direction opposite of my hotel. Poor broads, I thought, they come all the way to Chicago to have some fun with their husbands and end up babysitting a couple of immature drunks. That was just sad. I drove past my hotel and down the road to another bar, hoping to better my luck. Apparently, this neighborhood was where all the people who wanted to get drunk and pass out went to spend their evenings. I stayed about an hour, having a few drinks and talking with the bartender, who was nice, but not my type. He would have been fine if I had been gay, but alas, the heterosexual demon had possessed me yet again and I was forced to return to the hotel without escort.
As I entered the lobby, I heard a commotion in the elevator foyer. When I got there I saw the tall slender brunette and her badly sloshed husband trying to get into the elevator. “Goddammit, Paul,” she blurted out, “Try to stand up, you asshole.” Her husband was sliding down the wall unable to walk into the car. She looked at me with pleading eyes. “Can you help me?” she asked. I slipped behind her husband and lifted him up by his armpits. I looked at her and told her to push the floor button for their floor. When we reached the fourth floor the car stopped and she indicated that this was their stop. I moved him out of the car and threw him over my shoulder. “Lead on” I told her. She led me to the door of their room and said “I can get him from here. Thank you so much for helping me.” Her face was pretty; she had full lips, high cheek bones and the most amazing violet eyes. Her brunette hair framed her face with soft wavy curls that seemed to glisten in the pale light of the hallway. “Oh no Ma’am,” I said, “You can’t lift him, and he isn’t walking anywhere tonight.”
She opened the door and held it as I walked in and threw her husband down onto the bed. “Thank you so much” the woman said “He just had too much to drink.” And then she added bitterly, “As usual.” “It wasn’t any trouble at all.” I told her and turned to leave.
“Could you maybe help me get him undressed?” she surprised me with this request, but I figured, ‘What the Hell, I’m not doing anything anyway.’ “Sure,” I said and turned to help her take his pants off. She wrestled his shirt over his head and pushed him over on his side. When she did his flaccid cock fell out of the fly of his boxers. “Bastard,” she choked out as she reached and roughly put it back into his shorts. “Well hold on Ma’am,” I said trying to calm her down a bit, “Stella” she said “My name is Stella.” “Okay then, Stella.” I resumed “He’s just been having a good time, I saw you all in the bar. He’s probably going to be sorry as Hell in the morning, so why don’t you just let the Jack Daniels beat the Hell out of him?” She choked back a sob, “This was supposed to be a second honeymoon for us.” She said “We’re going to Chicago, he said, lots of nice places to eat and see, he said, and when we are in the hotel alone we can get a little crazy….Fuck he’s been drunk since we got here and we only have one more day left.