sylvis 189

Sylvia 189

We finished the second bottle of peppermint shine, before I finished my story.  All of the story except the part about the ‘Murder Inc lookalike’ The Brit and a few others ran with me.  We promised not to tell anyone else about that endeavor.  Since we promise each other to take no money from it, we couldn’t call it a business.

So Andrew and I took a drive into town to pick up his big ass SUV.  The thing was almost as big as phase one of my house.  We dropped off his SUV and we went sight seeing.  He had promised to stop by to pick up the Brit and Jeremy so we did that first.  We stopped by an old grists mill that had been turned into a fancy restaurant.  It was on the far side of Dobson.  It had to be to get enough people to pay those prices.

“I heard good things about this place guys, but I have never personally been here,” I said.

“I have also heard good things about it they have a fancy French menu.  It’s supposed to be modeled on a French restaurant that actually exists somewhere there.” Jeremy said.

“Modeled on a restaurant that exists somewhere else in the world none of us have ever been.  God, do we live in a place with nothing to recommend it or what,” I said.

“I don’t care where the food comes from, just so it is good,” Andrew said.

“Here, here,” The Brit agreed.

‘Okay we will sit on the terrace and pay twice what the food is worth and be waited on by chubby teenagers with southern accents trying to pronounce the French food items,” Andrew said it with the dry wit that three out of the four of us shared.

“My God,” Andrew said once we were seated.  “They have rabbit stew, that’s what lapin a la cocotte is he explained to me.”  They all liked to explain things to me like that because I was always interested and never took offense at their assuming I didn’t know things like it.

“Well if it has been boned and comes with bread, I’ll try it,” I said.  I also made a face when The Brit made a face.  “We can’t all be world travelers,”

“Why not just tell the girl to bring you the tourist’s special,” he suggested.

“Andrew kick his ass, so I don’t have to kill him,” I said.

“If you get my Allen hurt, I’ll scratch you eyes out,” Jeremy said with a giggle.

“In that case tell your friend to stop talking down to me,” I said equally as bitchy as Jeremy.  Then I laughed at them all.  I was tapping into the below the surface humor,  See The Brit, Andrew, and I were all fair game for that rough humor but Jeremy wasn’t part of it.  I would not hurt him and I would not allow anyone else to either.  Jeremy was part of the group but he wasn’t part of The Group.  It’s just the way things were.  I wasn’t sure he realized it.  So it was best we just move on.

“So what do you want to do after dinner?” Jeremy said.

The kid just wouldn’t give up I thought.  “No offense Jeremy but I think I’m going to take Andrew home and screw his brains out.  You are welcome to come watch,” I said.

“Wouldn’t you like desert first,” Andrew asked.

“Sure Brit, get me something chocolate and sticky,” I said.

“Get this woman a chocolate tart,” Andrew ordered.

“That’s what you need,” I said with a laugh.  “What I need might be a chocolate soldier,”

“let’s not go there at all,” The Brit said.

It was about ten o’clock and everybody was getting on everybody else’s nerves.  “ We need to head on back to County Seat,” I suggested.

“Yeah, I need to get back and check on the pub,” The Brit said.  I squeezed his arm as if to say thank you for not objecting,  It the conversation continued someone was likely to loose their cool.

When we got back to County Seat about twenty minutes later we dropped The Brit and Jeremy off.  We left them with a promise, “Hey we will meet you guys at the Cafe on the Square for breakfast in the morning.” I said.

“Sounds good to me.” The Brit said.  Jeremy was noticeably quiet, which was fine with me.

When Andrew and I got back to the Box House he asked, “Do you have any more of that peppermint shine?”

“I’ve got some,” I said with a pleased smile.  I was glad he liked it.  Between us we finished half a 10oz bottle.  It was midnight when he followed me to bed.

I have to admit I was skeptical when he made a move on me.  Even so I returned his kisses and stroked his damp cock.  As I stroked it, his cock got harder and even damper.  He was feeling my vagina while I stroked his cock.  I don’t usually think like that but he had me more in touch with my less than lady side.

When he rolled on top of me I guided his cock into my pussy.  I thought of it just like that.  I am sure I was moaning the same things.  Then out of the blue he said, “Damn Sylvia, you are the best fuck I ever had.  Damn it I love you.”

“Shut up and fuck me Andrew,” I said.  “God if you love me fuck me.”  I could feel him driving into me.  He was driving to the bottom of my pussy, then I tried to pull him even deeper.  We weren’t just doing it. we were rutting like animals.  I couldn’t help it I screamed in pain when I orgasmed.  He fought to get away from me because he said I was smothering him.  I had no idea I had pulled his face that tight against my small breast.

“Son of a bitch, are we fucking or fighting?” he asked.

“Sometimes it seems like the same thing,” I said.  “Go to sleep Andrew tomorrow is another day.”

The first thing when the sun came in the next morning I slipped into my shower stall and tried to bring my dragging body back to life.  I sure hoped Andrew didn’t want to fuck.  And I thought in those words which wasn’t like me at all.  I couldn’t help it, Andrew had me all confused.

“Morning sunshine,” I heard him say.

“Before you open your mouth I do not want to hear you say that you love me again.  If you say it, I’m going to ask you to leave.  Do you understand?” I asked.

“Yeah, I got it.  So can I take a shower with you,” he asked smiling.

“I’m already finished but I am willing to stand here naked and watch you,” I said with a smile to show there were no hard feelings.

Andrew called Brit and had him join us for breakfast.  As I almost always did, I had a .22 Mag revolver in my cargo pants pockets. I liked the sleek look around town, so I wore the cargo pants with the air weight .22 magnum revolved in a pocket.   It kept me from having to wear a jacket to hide it but it made it hard to reach.

Since it was hard to get at I also carried and eight inch piece of driveway marker sharpened at one end.  I rested in a spot under my wide belt along the rear of my cargo pants.  It was the thickness of a gutter spike, but was made of plastic.  Just in case I had to go through a metal detector.  I also practiced getting it out in a hurry since it was much faster than the pistol.  Thats how I was tooled for the downtown breakfast again.

As luck would have it on that morning the once in a hundred year event happened.  Someone starting trial for something, almost serious, in the country house.  He must have seen the writing on the wall, so he decided that he didn’t want to go peacefully. So he made a break for it.  Us locals would ordinarily learn about it form the state cable news show.  Except that Friday morning my friends and I were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It was hard for me not to know what was happening when I saw fat Joan, the female bailiff,  being herded down the granite steps of the courthouse by a man in an orange jump suit. I’m sure the pistol was just to be sure she wouldn’t resist.  He couldn’t possibly know how many dangerous civilians were having breakfast across the square.

I carried a piece of jelly covered toast with me, when I walked out to watch.  I knew that Andrew and The Brit were behind me, not to mention a couple of deputies.  “So I’m guessing he isn’t supposed to be walking behind her in an orange jump suit and carrying a gun.” I suggested. to the assembled crowd.

“Sylvia there are plenty of law enforcement types behind us, let’s sit this one out.” Andrew said.

The Brit said, “This is our home.”  Then he headed off to one side, while I moved to the other.  When we were on either side of him with about ten feet between us, The Brit said, “You know you can’t get away, so why not let the bailiff go.  She has got kids, I know.”

“What I’m gonna do is kill her, if you don’t get out of my way,” He said.

“Well that’s up to you I guess.  I won’t try to stop you leaving, but if you harm her, I will kill you.  No trial, no judge’s mercy, just an instant death sentence.” I said to him.

“Get out of my way,” the man in the jump suit said.

I looked like Just a woman in sloppy pants to him.  “I really wish you would let Joan go.  What’s your name anyway?”

“Who the fuck are you lady?” he asked.

“My name is Silvia Porter.  I’m going to be running for Sheriff.  You know come to think of it, I would be a better hostage than Joan.  I may well be the next Sheriff.  So what’s your name?”

“Don’t try to make nice to me Silvia.  Why would you trade yourself for Joan here?” he asked.

“Are you kidding? what a great campaign gag,” I said. I just knew The Brit and Andrew were waiting for him to make a mistake.

“You want it too much,” The man said.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Gerald my name is Gerald,” he said as I closed the gap between us.  “Oh alright, get on down the road Joan.”

He said that as he turned her loose.  He pointed his gun at me.  The Brit spoke to him.  He kept his gun pointed at me but he turned to The Brit.  When his eyes shifted, I removed my plastic spike from under my belt.  It was a move that didn’t worry Gerald too much.  The long orange  plastic bar was about the thickness of a number two pencil, and almost as sharp, fit my hand nicely.

I moved as quickly as possible to bury the eight inch rod about half way into his gun arm.  It is a natural reaction to drop whats is in that hand.  It would take a real pro like Andrew. not to drop whatever he held in his hand.  Gerald was not Andrew.

“You stabbed me you bitch,” he said.

“I turned to answer him, but I didn’t bother, since there were about three grown men taking turns beating the shit out of him.  “Come on guys stop it he needs a medic.” I said.

The Brit looked at me.  “He needs a new way of life.  His was the worst ‘man with a gun’ scenario I have ever seen.” he said.

“Joan are you alright?” I asked.

“Where did you learn to do that?” she asked.

“Honey, I didn’t do anything and I hope you stick with that story,” I said.

“Damn it Silvia, you have got to stop getting involved in things that are the Sheriff’s job.” Joan said.  “You keep this kind of shit up even the Sheriff will vote for you.”

About cindypress

sorry it is a mystery.
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10 Responses to sylvis 189

  1. jackballs57 says:

    Sheriff Porter does have a certtain ring to it . Thanks Beautiful sunny day here . Hope it is where you are. Jack

  2. Shooter says:

    Beautiful day in the Carolinas.

  3. Walt says:

    Sunny in KY too. However, it is dropping to 23 tonight, 11 tomorrow night and 16 Tuesday night. Stocked up on groceries last night so I can hibernate and ignore the temps.

    That’s a laugh, the Sheriff voting for Sylvia???? Added Gerald the kidnapper, however, I put him at the bottom with the other crooks since he probably won’t appear again.
    pinchem.net/stories/carniegirl.htm

  4. Barney R says:

    Cool but sunny in TX. Was 34 this morning but 72 now. I love the sound of Sheriff Porter. Keep it up Cindy, you are the greatest. Maybe it should be Cindy for Sheriff. I have to get up at 3:30 Tuesday to take my 63 Olds out for a film shoot. Maybe i can see Billy Bob Thornton when i finally wake up.

  5. garydan says:

    Posted 12/21/2013 7:30AM EST
    Well here in SW lower Michigan it is in the teens this morning and going to stay in teens as highs for another week it looks like. We are just starting to get the first “real” snowfall of the year, which is do to the lake effect off of Lake Michigan. Looks like we will be getting 10 to 12″ over the next few days. Still way below normal.

    It’s nice to see Sylvia get some decent lovin’ she enjoys, but she always seems to end up in bed with guys she didn’t really like at first.

    If she becomes Sheriff Porter, it sure isn’t going to be Mayberry RFD.

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