"Tommy"

"Tommy"

Part 1

By Dana

---------

Louis Dega and Henri Charriere discuss what for them will be their final escape attempt:

Louie: "Will it work?"
Pappy: "Does it matter?"

---------

Papillion, Nebraska, Fall 1974. Nebraska Hwy 370.

We'd just passed the water tower upon which had been painted a Butterfly in honor of the motion picture "Papillon" and were headed back to Omaha.

We'd spent the afternoon at a carnival there in Papillion. It'd been a good Sunday. The sun had set, the moon was fixing to rise. A full moon, no less.

"It's a full moon tonight, Cully."

She'd informed me as we'd headed out after church. Girl in the pew is an adorable sight. Eyes closed, hands clasped in traditional prayer motif, her lips moving, but, no sound emitted.

Then, she'd lower the kneeler, wave me up and we'd kneel together.

"What do you pray about, well actually for, youngster?"

"My parents and sister. You, Cully, I pray for you and I pray for us, that we will always be together, that our love and light will never weaken and die."

That answer was more or less what the answer always was. Always.

Afterward we'd stop and pay our respects to Father Bob. I think Girl had a thing for him.

"Cully, don't be disrespectful. He's our Priest."

"He's still a man and you have an affect on men. Devout or not. I see you, Girl."

And the Father, bless his heart did act up a bit around the girl. I didn't grudge it. He wasn't getting any, so, big deal. I'd shake his hand, she'd hug him, tight, and we'd go on into the church hall and have donuts and coffee. Always fresh and always free.

"Cully, roll down the sun-roof, I'm hot."

I had the A/C blowing, but, didn't hesitate and cranked it open.

"I'm still hot."

Girl's dress had ridden up on her tanned legs & thighs. I was watching her thru my peripherals.

She purposely nudged the dress hem up on her thighs then turned to me.

"I said I'm hot, boy."

Uh, oh, I thought to myself. She was in a mood. She could be moody, an Irish girl and all.

"Take a sip of your pop." We'd each got a fresh fountain drink before we left the carnival. Also some Carmel corn for later.

"Do you think it'd be alright if I masturbated, Cully-boy?" She'd purposely went hard on the (boy).

"Are you okay, puddin-head?"

"Don't answer a question with a question, Dale." (Dale) too came out a tad harsh.

"I'm going to masturbate whether you let me, or, not. How do you like that answer?"

"Suit yourself." I checked the rear view. A steady stream behind me, the two lane keeping all in check.

"I say I'm hot, Cully, and I'm sick of these panties!"

They were off and thru the sun-roof before I could blink. I cringed, but, braved a look once again thru the rear view. Thankfully her white panties had blown on to the shoulder. I did not brave meeting the eyes of the driver behind me.

"That's better. Cully-boy, look."

She'd brought her dress up past her waist.

"Look, boy, my thighs are tan, but, my cunt, my pussy is white. Look, Cully, look."

She rolled a bit to the door.

"My butt is pure white."

"Girl, take 'er easy."

"Which do you prefer, Culburn; (cunt) or (pussy), or, (snatch)?"

I wasn't about to answer.

"You guys are all alike."

I responded to that remark.

"Girl, you just told me not three days ago that I wasn't like most guys, that I was different. Remember? That I was special and that you loved that about me."

I saw her brow furrow.

"Oh, yeah, I do remember that."

"Now, pull your dress down."

"No! I'm going to make myself cum. And you can't stop me. And don't you even try, buster."

I lifted from the steering wheel and flattened both hands in resignation.

"I'm going to think about us fucking when we get back. I want to fuck, Cully. Fuck. Yes, fuck. I like that word."

She put her right hand in it.

"Guys say it all the time. I'm saying it now. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You're gonna fuck me when we get home and not just once, but, at least twice and I fucking mean it, Cully. Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Her right hand was moving like a trip hammer.

Her left hand shifted and gripped my thigh, the nails digging into my skin thru my favorite corduroys, gray.

Girl ignited in orgasm. Her screams shrill and pained.

"Oh, my goodness, that felt wonderful. I needed that. You were fucking me. I was on all fours with my white butt high in the air. You were long and hard, your little sack twirling about. I could feel it twirl." She giggled.

Never too distracted to bust a ball. Katie-Girl was adorable.

"I hope I didn't hurt your thigh, boy. Are you okay?"

"Sure, I'm fine."

"Are you hard?"

She reached over. "Yeah, you're hard. I should jerk it off it and throw that thru the roof."

"Cully, I need something to shove in my cunt, in my pussy, in my snatch. You got anything? I'm gonna go again. And you are not stopping me, boy."

It was a rhetorical question. She'd already found something.

"I'll use this hairbrush. I need something to fill my pussy with. I need something bigger, but, that's in your fucking pants, so, that's out. How bout a pop bottle, you're always drinking those glass Cokes. Where's an empty, big shot?"

"You are not shoving a glass bottle up in there and I mean it."

"Okay, okay, don't get over-heated, Cul, or, you'll be over here with your panties down, off, out and your feet up on the dashboard."

She planted both feet low on the dash, slunk down in her bucket seat and inserted the round end of that hair brush into her vagina.

Her voice, then laughter came at once rich and then robust.

"Sweet mystery of life at last I found you!"

---------

Her mother, my mother-in-law by law pulled me aside remarkably soon after our wedding mass and before we headed to the reception. Yanked on the sleeve of my Air Force uniform.

"Cully, son,"......she stopped and looked to the heavens...

"Son, just be careful with Gi rl. She's a little high strung at times. Strung very high, yes, that's it. Try and not get her started crying because once you do that it's very difficult to get Girl to stop crying."

(I'd found that out, by God)

"She's a might frightful truth be told."

Whatever that meant. I waited for more, but, confirmed she'd finished. So I went:

"Sure, uh, Mrs. Cav...I mean, ma."

"You're welcome, Cully." Gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Good luck, sweetheart." Turned loose my arm-stalked away like an old Gypsy woman.

Years later I told my mother how Girl's mother had warned me.

"Well, Dale, you're no picnic, son."

Left hand she wrung in and out. Right hand wrung her clitoris.

"Oh, fuck, Cully. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" She bellowed, top of her lungs.

Faster and faster each hand raced.

'FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!"

Girl's screams at release were protracted and near wild.

I either imagined she leaned over and tried to bite me, or, didn't imagine it. I did, I imagined it.

"Get me home, spread me wide and fuck me, boy. I need a hard cock. Any will do. Yours isn't handy. Get it handy, Cully. Tromp on that pedal."

Traffic had slowed at about the midpoint.

"Looks like an accident ahead, uh, Girl."

"Both my bucket and your bucket are slippery, Cully. I'm leaking love juice all over it, honey. My whole crotch is soaked. My butt too. Stem to stern. I'm going to see if I can stick this brush up my butt."

She pulled it clear of her vagina. That's when I snatched it from her.

"You're not sticking this (I held it close to the roof opening) up your ass, damn it. We'll end up out at the base hospital with it stuck up in there. I'll be the laughingstock of SAC!"

I hung my hand down the side of the car and dropped it on the highway. It stayed down instead of bouncing up and landing inside the car behind us.

"Can I masturbate one more time, Cully? Por favor, Senor'?"

I kind of enjoyed being the level headed one for a change of pace. Usually it was her trying to talk me down from the heights of danger:

"Cully, you're not doing that."
"Cully, put that BB gun back. We're not buying it."
"Cully, we're taking that sling shot back. And I mean it. I told you no."
"Cully, you're not going there."
"Cully, now no. And I mean it."

For probably the first time in our short marriage I was the adult. I felt smug.

"Cully, look!"

Momentarily lost in my reverie I found she'd lowered the top of her dress and her breasts were exposed.

"Cully's not a tit man. Cully's not a tit man. Cully's not a tit man." Sing song/Sing song.

"You only married me for my butt. That's all you care about, isn't it? You lusted over it the moment we met and since. I caught you looking at it from day one."

Then a final refrain: "Cully's not a tit man."

She grabbed a hand off the steering wheel.

"You can spare this, we're going what about ten miles per hour?"

She burrowed in and set it right. She was accurate, it was wet in there. She moved it about.

"THERE! Right there, boy. I'm going twice, that's two times for you Air Force boys, so, just stay in contact where your baby set the fucking thing and don't lift off it, ya fucker, you. Stay the course and I'll turn your ass inside out at the house."

And one more time so I wouldn't forget and so I would remember:

"I'll move---you stay still! Go!!!!!!!!!"

Once I got the hang of it---it was easy. She grabbed my hand with her left and we road it like a bolt of lightning. She knew her capabilities and blew thru those two climaxes like cake work.

Her screams were clear and pronounced as she writhed thru her spending.

By then I'd cleared the accident, cut the A/C, and was flying thru the night, tipped the trip wire and opened the next two barrels in the straight line Six Pack of that Road Runner. It was like we'd been launched off a catapult. It always starved itself for oxygen when I performed that stunt---not-this-time, the weather had cooled enough to retard that starvation and the speedometer got buried. Now it was Girl in fright and Dale in maniacal flight."

Sobered: "Cullyyyyyyyyy."

"Sssssshhhhhh, Girl."

The flashing blood red lights mixed with lunatic white in a haywire machination caught me about ready to trip the final two barrels. I'd reached, but, had not made contact with the designated toggle. I'd been there, once, with my brother, in Cleveland, and we'd come this{}close to rolling the damn thing. We'd still be tossing and turning if not for our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Tommy, he had arrived.

(to be continued)