Growing a new set of scars . . . Entry for June 1, 2007

I got about 5 inches of scraggly ends cut off my hair, can you tell from the pic? This week has really had its share of major downs, and not many ups. First off, I got bit by a tick near my knee and didn’t notice for over a day and then 2 days later went to the ER cause it was swelling and wouldn’t stop seeping.

The Doc gave me the usual antibiotics and told me to watch for a bullseye type of rash that indicates Lyme Disease, but I lucked out there. What I didn’t luck out on is the tick wound itself is now leaving an unhealthy looking mound of scar tissue on the inside of my knee.

A few days after that I was also lucky enough to get between one of my dogs and his rope while I feeding them and wearing sandals. The end result was that I got a nasty rope burn across the front of both ankles. My left ankle has only a small friction burn a little over an inch and it still hurts, but is starting to heal.

My right leg is another story. The dog sawed the rope back and forth across the front of that ankle leaving a 3-inch wound and now it looks like its getting infected. What’s worse is that it hurts like hell and I can’t wear any kind of shoes that come near it. I figured the meds I’m taking for the tick bite would help, but apparently not.

It’s almost funny cause it looks like I was in a bondage accident, but it sure doesn’t feel funny at all. I can’t wait to see how that scar turns out. Then to top it all off, that very same dog got his rope tangled up and slipped out of his collar and in his agitated state bit my friends’ son on his butt. It was entirely my fault, if I had only checked on him before leaving for a jobsite this morning it would have never happened.

I got both my dogs 3 year shots last year so I’m sure he’s rabies free, but they still have to have him quarantined for 10 days. In any case my dog Strongbad, who I love like one of my kids, has to go. I decided to take him with me when I visit my kids this weekend and leave him with my ex husband. Of course he doesn’t know I’m coming with the dog, but what else can I do?

So all this thinking of scars made me take an inventory of the ones I already have and the lessons I learned from them. Scars from falls, cuts, burns, and the memories attached. Childhood scars, Chicken Pox scars, scars from fighting. Little pieces of life leaving their mark on me. Scars of wisdom and scars of stupidity, we all have them.

Do you have any interesting scars? . . .

Moved, at last!!! . . . Entry for May 24, 2007

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Unmotivated and depressed . . . Entry for May 15, 2007

I’ve been sitting here for several days now, having a little private pity party and totally depressed. I couldn’t motivate myself to get out of bed for more than 15 minutes all day. I really hate packing and moving, but the part I hate the most is still not having a place to live.

My kids I got covered, let all 3 of them drive their Dad crazy instead of me for a while. But for myself, none of my options have panned out and am still looking into the prospect of living in a homeless shelter. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve lived in a shelter, I’m not too proud.

But I’m working and need access to the Internet in order to do my job and to download whatever documents I need. That’s the major problem, and sometimes I get calls in the wee hours in the morning to go fix something first thing that day and I need my Internet.

I’m feeling a little better now, I just got a call and now I’m scheduled for 3 jobs in the next 7 days, so that will be a nice chunk of change. I should have about half I need to get me an apartment after getting paid for those 3 jobs. Maybe by the end of June I’ll have my shit together and this depression will disappear.

That’s what I’m hoping for anyways . . .

Un-Happy Mothers Day to me . . . Entry for May 13, 2007

Why do our children test us so? On the one day of the year I’m supposed to be appreciated for giving birth and raising and loving my offspring through thick and thin, and all I got was bitching and moaning. I asked them to pick up the living room after all the mess that got left after emptying the bookcases and you still can’t walk across the floor without stepping on something.

I asked my son twice to put away the dishes and the third time I told him he blew it, and now he has to wash them. This was around 6pm, it’s now after 9 and they’re still not done. Nothing was taken out to prepare for a nice meal and every time I asked for cooperation, all I got was excuses on why they shouldn’t have to.

A few days ago I drove the 250 mile round trip just to talk to my ex husband (who has my other 17 year old twin son living with him) because I’d been trying to get a hold of him for 2 weeks with no luck. I had to finalize the details of my kids staying with him for the summer and my time before eviction is quickly running out.

I also wanted my son to sign the Mother’s Day card I bought for my Mom, then thought since he isn’t in school, I could take him home and he could help me with packing while my other 2 boys were gone during the day. And besides, I really wanted him home for Mother’s Day. (I also stopped at a girl friend’s house, but that’s an adventure for a different post.)

I had taken a big tub of the kids’ books with me to drop off at my ex’s and the only bag of clothes they’ve packed so far. I had my son go through the tub to check for any of my books and he found a few, and one very special one. It was a postcard book of scenes from “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, one of my favorite movies.

One of my twins had given it to me as a present way back in grade school, and it’s now missing it’s cover, but all the postcards were still intact in the book. I was happy to see it again and took it back home with me so nothing could happen to it and I could pack it away proper.

So now here I have all three of my boys at home again, and can’t get any cooperation from them without getting a bunch of grief on the one day I was always extra nice to my Mother because I cared. But the incident that drove me crying into my room was when I found out my 15 year old son wrote BORED on the back of every last postcard in the book.

I treasured that little book and couldn’t believe he did it. He had some stupid lame excuse, but he probably did it because he thought it was one of twins’ and was just being and asshole and wanted to ruin something of theirs. But in any case he knew the book wasn’t his, even if he didn’t remember it was mine.

I don’t think I want to “celebrate” Mother’s Day anymore, thanks for letting me vent . . .

Expected and Unexpected . . . Entry for May 10, 2007

Some readers will remember my neighbor Lars from earlier posts, though I haven’t seen him in a while. Well I had borrowed a push mower from his wife the other day. Last night he drove down to see if I was done mowing my grass with it (wink wink) and we agreed to meet for “coffee” early this morning.

With that idea in mind, I got up real early this morning, partly due to the fault of one of my cats using my bedroom window as a side entrance. But that was cool, because I was awake when the phone rang. I thought “Who the fuck is calling at 5:45 in the morning?” and answered.

At first I thought no one was on the line (sometimes I get these “silent” phone calls all too often) but then I heard a voice at the end of the tunnel. It was Travis, but I could hardly hear him. I felt like that Verizon guy yelling, “Can ya hear me now?”

Even though I could barely hear, I found out that yes, his “friends” did leave him behind and he was somewhere in Arkansas. I told him he could hitchhike his way back here if he wanted, but I wasn’t coming to get him. The connection on the phone was so bad that nothing was really said before he hung up so I don’t know what’s going on with him.

Needless to say I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I readied myself for my early morning booty call. Lars showed up at around 9:30 and liked what I was wearing: bathing suit bottoms and a wife beater T-shirt and that was all. I made us both coffee and twisted one up. I always get hornier when stoned, lol.

It wasn’t long before both of us were naked and I was sucking on his above average sized dick. It may not get as hard as a 20-year-old’s, but it was definitely longer. Not that length matters much with me, except when I’m trying to see how much cock I can take without choking on it (grin).

I licked and sucked and drove him crazy with my tongue, before I couldn’t take it anymore and had to feel him in my pussy. He fucked me long and slow as I tightened down on his cock, he told me to slack off or he was gonna cum too soon, and I didn’t want that to happen.

But I rubbed my clit fast and furious until I was cumming all over that hard dick, then he couldn’t hold back any longer and slammed it into me good. I ground my pussy into that pulsing cock, drowning my heartache with a good dose of cum. I promised to bring the lawnmower back tomorrow, after I was done with it and then he left.

I wonder where Travis is tonight though . . .

Have a “Punny” Hump Day . . . Entry for May 9, 2007

These were sent to me in an email and now that I’ve gotten all that drama crap out of my system, I thought I’d try to pass on a smile or two.

A good pun is it’s own reword
Energizer Bunny was arrested and charged with battery
A man’s home is his castle, in a manor of speaking
A pessimist’s blood type is always B-Negative
A Freudian slip is when you say one thing but mean your Mother
Shotgun Weddings: A case of wife or death
I used to work in a blanket factory, but they folded
A man needs a mistress just to break the monogamy
Is a book on voyeurism a peeping tome?
Dancing cheek-to-cheek is really a form of floor play
Banning the bra was a big flop
Sea Captains don’t like crew cuts
A successful diet is the triumph of mind over platter
A gossip is someone with a great sense of rumor
Without geometry, life is pointless
When you dream in color it’s a pigment of your imagination
Condoms should be used on every conceivable occasion
When two egotists meet, it’s and I for and I
I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.
Police were called to a daycare where a three-year-old was resisting a rest.
Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He's all right now.
The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference.
To write with a broken pencil is pointless.
When fish are in schools they sometimes take debate.
A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months.
A thief fell and broke his leg in wet cement. He became a hardened criminal.
Thieves who steal corn from a garden could be charged with stalking.
We'll never run out of math teachers because they always multiply.
When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, U C L A.
The math professor went crazy with the blackboard. He did a number on it.
The professor discovered that her theory of earthquakes was on shaky ground.
The dead batteries were given out free of charge.
If you take a laptop computer for a run you could jog your memory.
A dentist and a manicurist fought tooth and nail.
A bicycle can't stand alone; it is two tired.
Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.
A backward poet writes inverse.
In a democracy it's your vote that counts; in feudalism, it's your Count that votes.
A chicken crossing the road: poultry in motion.
With her marriage she got a new name and a dress.
Show me a piano falling down a mine shaft and I'll show you A -flat miner.
When a clock is hungry it goes back four seconds.
The guy who fell onto an upholstery machine was fully recovered.
A grenade fell onto a kitchen floor in France, resulted in Linoleum Blownapart.
You are stuck with your debt if you can't budge it.
He broke into song because he couldn't find the key.
A boiled egg is hard to beat.
He had a photographic memory which was never developed.
His parents thought he was a budding genius, but he turned out to be a blooming idiot.
A plateau is a high form of flattery.
Those who get too big for their britches will be exposed in the end.
When you've seen one shopping center you've seen a mall.>
When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye.
Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead to know basis.
Santa's helpers are subordinate clauses.
Acupuncture: a jab well done

Hope your hump day is a happy one . . .

Memphis Blues (day 2, scene 2) . . . Entry for May 8, 2007

By the time we all pulled into the Pilot Truck Stop in Nashville all three of us in the car were pissed off as hell and I wanted something to drink. But the only alcoholic drink they had inside was beer, and I like “bitch beer” i.e. Smirnoff Ice or Bacardi Silver. But I noticed there was another gas station a half a block away, so I walked there to get me some.

I ended up buying a six pack of Bacardi Strawberry for me and Travis and Patrick, complete with little brown paper bags to drink them in. I walked back to the car and opened one up and took a long pull on the bottle. Ahhh, it went down so good, and I passed it to the guys for a sip.

That’s when the trouble started: the rent a cop from the truck stop caught me drinking and started giving us shit. He was an ex cop (the worst kind) and was even more of a prick than the real cop at the welcome center. He made me pour it out and told us we had to leave.

I poured it out and put the rest of the six pack in my trunk, and walked back into the store to talk to the security guard, and tell him we were waiting on our friends in the RV and I apologized once again for drinking on “his” lot. Things were cool again and I went back to the car, another disaster avoided.

I saw Stan and Sandy taking stuff out of the back of the Winnebago and wondered what the fuck was going on. That’s when Travis told me they were taking showers and I couldn’t believe it. Here I hadn’t gotten more than ten bucks and they wanted to waste time taking showers instead of hurrying up and getting me my gas money.

To say I was really pissed off was an understatement, I knew the security guard wasn’t going to let them sell anything to the truckers and their nonchalant attitude about my gas money had me furious. So I went back to the guard and asked him if they could be allowed to sell something to the truckers and was told flatly NO and if that’s what they were trying to do, we all had 5 minutes to get off the lot.

I went back over to Stan and told him what he said and got into a big argument with him about the gas money. I said I know Sandy’s got jewelry and a boom box and VCR with her, I’d take some of that in lieu of gas money, but she wouldn’t give up any of her stuff. The guard came over while I was arguing with them and said we had to go now.

Their RV still needed a jump and a hammer to bang their starter, which of course I supplied and told them to meet us back at the Stadium in so Travis and Patrick could switch vehicles. They followed us there until we got into the parking lot then they took off in another direction.

It was unbelievable, we had to chase them down, running around circles in Nashville. At one stop light that bitch Sandy gets out of the RV and tells us to wait at the Inn until they made some money and they’d be back. Yea, right, like after all those times they tried to lose us we were going to trust them.

All this time the guys in the car were talking about them and I told them if this was how they were treating them now, they might as well bail and come home with me, cause sooner or later they were going to get left behind. They had both decided to come home with me when Sandy finally pulled over and stopped.

The guys got out and said they were leaving and started getting their shit, and I yelled back to them to get all the food I had bought too. I popped open my trunk and got a bag and gathered the food myself, all the while berating the guys in the RV for the way they were treating Travis and Patrick.

I go to put the food in my trunk and the RV took off. It was then I looked up and noticed that I was standing there alone in the parking lot, Travis and Patrick had left with them, but Patrick’s backpack was still in my trunk. So I jumped back in my car and ran after them again.

If they wanted to stay with them, that was just fine with me, but I didn’t want Patrick to be without his stuff. So I went on this wild goose chase following the RV all over downtown Nashville until finally they were stuck behind a horse-drawn carriage and I made em roll down their window.

I yelled out that Patrick still had his backpack in my trunk, but Stan said when they took off, both Travis and Patrick went walking back over this bridge, which I knew was a lie, because Travis wanted to go home with me, or so I thought.

At that point I gave up, I was mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted and still had a 2 hr trip home, so I said fuck it and took off towards the freeway. I pulled over before I jumped on the highway and got me one of my strawberry bitch beers from the trunk and poured it into my sports bottle. I chugged a little to calm me down, but wasn’t going to drive drunk.

On the long drive home, I shored up that wall that’s keeping me from feeling that pain that Travis caused me, being a pussy like that and not even having enough balls to say he was staying with them. His loss, because I know sooner or later they are going to dump him and leave him up shit creek without a paddle.

Travis-ty

Travis came into my life
On the side of the road
In leathers under the sun
It looked like a heavy load

I pulled over and he walked up
Then I saw his young, smiling face
Where are you going, I asked
And drove him to that place

I wanted him
And he wanted me
Even to a blind man
That was plain to see

(chorus)
I sit here alone again,
just holding it all in
You were my Travis-ty
of perfect lover and friend
Why did you leave me so?
All you had to do was say,
And I would have simply let you slip away


Welcome to my lair
Said the spider to the fly
When I invited him home
And he didn’t ask why

Nearly two weeks of mentoring
Sensually, sexually guiding him
In the oh so many ways of love
And not caring if it felt like sin

We knew it couldn’t last forever
But not exactly when
This vacation from reality
Would finally come to an end

(Chorus)
I sit here alone again,
just holding it all in
You were my Travis-ty
of perfect lover and friend
But why did you leave me so?
All you had to do was say,
And I would have simply let you slip away

I’m not looking forward to the day when he says to himself “She told me so” . . .

Memphis Blues (day 2, scene 1) . . . Entry for May 7, 2007

To continue on . . . all six of us spent the rainy night inside the RV waiting until morning so we could fix the broken fan belt. We were parked in a lot across from a train station and that morning’s 6:40 train woke me up. I know it was 6:40 cause I reached for my cell phone to check the time, then I couldn’t doze off again damnit!

So I lay there quite a while waiting for everybody else to wake up when some asshole pounds on the side of the Winnebago and yells “Get your asses up and park this thing right stupid!” That was the exactly WRONG thing to yell out at us after me having a sleepless night, so I yelled back “Fuck you asshole!” to the retreating back of some fat bastard in a shirt and tie.

This dickhead turns back around and goes “That’s it, you made a big mistake, I’m calling the office and taking care of you” or something like that, I was so pissed I wasn’t listening cause by this time everyone had woken up once that fat fuck started yelling.

The fucker walks back to his car and puts his headlight strobe lights on. Uh Oh, we realized then this officious little prick was a cop. But I didn’t care, he had no right to do what he did, there was another RV parked taking up four spaces in the same lot and he didn’t say anything to them.

Stan jumped out and talked to the asshole who was still yelling as he walked a way “You need to take care of your wife” and I was like “Wife? Even if I was mother fucker no one tells me what to do” but instead I yelled “Oh fuck you asshole, you’re so goddamn fat you probably haven’t seen your dick in years!”

So of course now we’re all up and getting dressed and found the nearest Napa parts store to exchange the belt. I drove one of the guys to the parts store and went across the street and bought all 6 of us coffee, out of the kindness of my pocket cause I know I can’t function without it in the morning.

We get back to the parking lot and find out that they got hassled by the parking attendant while we were gone, so we had to fix it in a hurry, this time not over-tightening the belt and causing breakage. Unfortunately the starter decided to act up and we still couldn’t start it until we took a hammer to it and the RV finally started. That all done we were back on the road again.

This time we were in search of a truck stop to pawn some shit for gas money. While they were doing that Travis was driving my car and once again held hands and made goo-goo eyes at each other when our gazes met, lol. There was a little sadness there, knowing we didn’t have much more time together, but I tried not to think about it too much. I didn’t want to get more bummed than I already was.

The trip was taking forever with all the stops, and I kept looking for stores that took Food Stamps so I could feed us all. Finally we found a salvage food store and I spent 35$ worth in groceries. We all pigged out, cause none of us had eaten from the night or day before.

Well fed now we all felt better, and on this part of the trip to Nashville, Patrick, Travis’ buddy, was riding in the car with us. Our traveling “protocol” all the way from Memphis has been that they wait for us at the truck stop exit and we drive behind them, because of some broken taillights.

I also forgot to mention that I had not taken any of my medicines that day at all and on top of the insomnia, I wasn’t feeling my best, I was wiped out actually. But on this leg of the trip Patrick and Travis talked about the change in the band dynamics, and how personalities were changing, and not for the good.

The last truck stop we were at they sold enough in DVD’s to get them over half a tank of gas, so finally there would be no more stopping. We walked away from the gas pump island and over to my car. Travis took off his gloves then leather jacket, and put the gloves back on and backed the car up to pull in behind them, and the Winnebago was gone.

We were all like “What the fuck, they were just there” and we drove around the truck stop looking for them, but they were no where to be found. We didn’t want to think it, but it was like they left us. They weren’t by the highway entrance ramp but we got on anyways.

We tried calling their cell phone but it was turned off. Luckily I had asked Stan earlier where we were ending up, and he said the same place we picked up Sandy. So Travis just drove on and after an hour we caught up with them, and passed em by waving. They knew we weren’t behind them.

So we get to Nashville ahead of them and park at the Stadium Inn, where all this started. We were all pissed off for them leaving us like that and wondered what was going on. About a half an hour later they finally pull up into the truck stop behind the hotel.

Travis and Patrick both jump out and ask them what the fuck is going on, leaving us like that, and Stan gives them this totally bullshit story everyone knows is a lie, but why? They were band mates, why did it seem like they were trying to shake us? And what about my 70$ in gas money that was still owed me?

I kept hearing bullshit “Oh you’ll get it, you’ll get it” but hadn’t seen a dime since that first 10 bucks, and I spent that much just in coffee! I was starting to feel badly used and my non-medicated mood was not helping any. Then they decide to go to another truck stop and lead us on a wild goose chase where we had to tell them to pull over and follow us.

We got in front of them and led them to the Pilot Truck Stop they couldn’t find . . .

Memphis Blues (day 1, scene 2) . . . Entry for May 6, 2007

So off we go down to Nashville, a 2-hour drive from my house. Both of us were kind of quiet and thoughtful, thinking of our pending separation, but we held hands all the way there. Once we got to Nashville, Travis wasn’t exactly sure what exit we were supposed to take, but the hotel Sandy was staying at was next door to Titan Stadium.

I jumped off the interstate at the first exit or so into Nashville and headed right to the nearest gas station for directions, which happened to be right on the corner. A wino bumming change in the parking lot told me to go straight on the road I got off on and I’d run right into it. I gave him a dollar for his trouble, and took off. Sure enough, it was right were he said it was.

We got to the Stadium Inn and found Sandy in the bar, drinking with some guys. Apparently her rent was paid up only until that morning, so she was hanging out on borrowed time. She told us to wait while she got her stuff from her room, and as she walked off with one of the guys she was drinking with, me and Travis just looked at each other thinking “how much stuff does she got?”

My car is pretty small, a little Toyota Paseo, and doesn’t have a lot of trunk space, so if there was too much in the way of luggage, it was going to have to stay there. Luckily for her, it all just fit, but barely. I was a little surprised that when the guy Sandy was drinking with in the bar helped her load up the car, then she gave him what looked like a deep throat kiss goodbye.

Both Travis and me looked at each other with raised eyebrows, thinking together again “This is Stan’s girlfriend?” But I figured it was none of my business, so I ignored it. The trip was going to be a long one, a little over 3 hrs, but with Travis there holding my hand all the way, I knew time would fly faster.

It was dusk when we left, and by the time it was full dark, it had started raining some off and on. When the rain was really coming down about an hour later, Sandy in the back started having a panic attack and sobbing. Apparently she “said” she was in Katrina and now being in bad weather upset her, but personally I thought she just liked being a Drama Queen.

It was hard enough to see where I was going, without having someone in the back seat telling me what a bad job I was doing driving and to slow down. I was thinking “Bitch, you need to shut the fuck up and just let me drive!” cause her attitude was really pissing me off and I could hardly see where I was going as it was.

The rain finally slacked off the closer we got to West Memphis, but she was still in the backseat curled up in the corner sniffling. We tried cheering her up, but I think she just liked the attention, so I said fuck it and just kept on driving. Travis and me were singing songs in the front seat cause the radio wasn’t working and just passed her a couple napkins for her runny nose and teary eyes and ignored her.

As we got closer there was some debate as to where the band was located. As it was, my cell phone (a Tracfone) was extremely low on minutes, so I didn’t want to call them again. I remembered him saying the Flying J Truck Stop 10 miles over the Tennessee state line, but Sandy was an ex truck driver and she was saying something different, but I drove there my way anyways.

Finally we got there and I met the rest of the band, who seemed like a bunch of pretty cool guys for the most part. Their RV battery was dead so they needed a jump-start. Lucky for them, I carry jumper cables with me all the time and I got them started.

At that point I was given only ten dollars by Stan, but he said he’d get it to me once we got there, that they were going to sell stuff at the truck stops we went through to get up some of the money. That first stab of doubt now entered my mind that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but Travis got in the car with me and off we were back to Nashville.

As soon as we drove back over the Arkansas/Tennessee Bridge (a beautiful site) they pulled into the welcome center there on the riverfront. Puzzled, I pulled over with them and we wondered what was going on. They stopped and popped open their hood and we got the bad news: the fan belt they had put on not 2 days ago had broken.

So as it turns out we were going to be stuck until morning when we could take the fan belt back to Napa auto parts for a new one. It was a good thing they kept the receipt, cause they didn’t have money at the moment for a new one.

So we sat there in a parking lot underneath some overhead railroad tracks, and watched a few of the homeless wander across the asphalt and bed down in the area for the night. Then a police car rolled into the welcome center and parked which made everyone nervous.

To forestall any legal entanglements, Stan went over there and told the cop that we were broke down, and the cop said it was no problem, we were in a public lot. There also was another RV parked nearby, so with our minds eased, we made sleeping arrangements for the night and sat around bullshitting, singing and telling jokes for a while.

Me and Travis were bedding down in the back of the trailer on the floor with a sheet across the aisle for our privacy. A similar curtain was erected, lol, across the bed where Stan and Sandy were sleeping, to a lot of jokes and ribbing for all of us from Patrick and Allen, the single guys in the group.

Finally there was quiet, and I took off my sleeping shirt and was naked underneath. Travis took his pants and boxers off, and we covered ourselves with the sheet. I heard muttering from the front, so we rocked the Winnebago from side to side and I started moaning and making orgasm noises to the laughter of everyone.

Settling down for real this time, I start making love to Travis, kissing him all over his neck and chest. It was then that I sniffed it: the carpet smelled offensively like old dog. I forgot to mention they were travelling with an old miniature Wiener Dog (I don’t know how to spell that Dachshund word, lol)

It really bothered me, cause one of the eroticism’s of sex is the smells, well for me anyways. I tried ignoring it the best I could while I sucked away on his throbbing cock. Now stiffer than the railroad rails above us, I mounted his cock and tried not to rock the RV too much, but with my weight, that’s kind of hard.

So after a little too much rocking and a giggle from the peanut gallery up front, I decided to get on the bottom instead. Travis climbed on top but slowed his strokes down from his normal fast, hard pace. It wasn’t as good for either of us, since we weren’t able to let loose like we usually do.

I felt him starting to get a little soft after a while (we’re used to fucking a long time, lol) so I offered to do it “doggy style” with my ass up in the air. I reached behind me and spread my cheeks apart so he could get a better view of my pussy as he slid his cock inside me.

I tightened up my inner muscles, matching him stroke for stroke, and felt him begin to tense up as I reached in front of me and rubbed my clit and his cock at the same time. I heard him softly gasp and grab my hips tight to his as his dick spasmed in orgasm inside me.

I ground my ass into him, making my pussy swallow every drop. He bent down and kissed me on my back and on my cheek and whispered into my ear “But you didn’t cum, did you?” I whispered back that I had cum a little, just not like I usually do because I had to be so quiet.

I told him it was no problem though, I was happy and we snuggled down in the sheets and tried to go to sleep. Now that I wasn’t having sex I really could smell the dog odor back there and it was keeping me awake as Travis wrapped me in his arms in a spoon position, and I tried falling asleep.

I was having a hard time ignoring the smell, when I felt Travis seem to start crying behind me. I thought maybe he was upset at my pending departure, and that’s why he was crying. I tried to silently comfort him at first, then I asked what was wrong, but he didn't reply.

I figured it was a private thing, but turned over and held him to my breasts and felt tears dampen my nipples as I hugged him and told him it was going to be ok, whatever it was that was bothering him. I held him like that for a little while, and when he still wouldn’t answer me, I turned over and spooned with him again.

As I laid there and held the arms holding me close, I immediately noticed something odd. His hands were starting to cramp up, kind of like a praying mantis’. It was then that I remembered Travis mentioning that he used to have seizures and realized he was having one now.

It was a grand mal type seizure, cause it had been going on for some minutes before I realized it. I yelled to the front “Hey, I think Travis is having a seizure! Look, I’m naked back here but somebody throw me something to put in his mouth!” and Sandy tossed back one of Travis’ black leather fingerless half gloves and I put it between his teeth as Stan called 911 on the cell phone.

I threw on my shirt and covered his nakedness with a sheet and pulled down our makeshift curtain to let some light in and I could see what was happening to him. I lit one of the votive candles we had used earlier and got a good look at him while his whole body was seized up like one giant cramp.

Luckily I’d been around 2 other people who had seizures and knew what to do. His hands started relaxing and then I noticed he’d stopped breathing, so I took the glove out of his mouth, abstractly noticing the teeth marks in it, and started mouth to mouth resuscitation.

After that first lungfull of air I breathed into him, he gulped in a lungfull of air, his breathing reflex kicking in again. Stan was still trying to tell the 911 operator where we were when Travis started becoming coherent, mumbling “No hospital, I don’t want to go to the hospital . . .”

All of us in the RV told him he needed medical attention, and we waited, listening for the sounds of the paramedics and ambulance that would be coming soon. We opened the backdoor and moved Sandy’s huge suitcase out of the way so the paramedics could get to Travis.

I stood outside the door in the parking lot in a light rain wearing only my nightshirt and barefoot, when the fire truck first arrived. I stepped aside and let them do their work, breathing a sigh of relief. I bummed a cigarette from one of the guys and smoked it, trying to calm down from the adrenaline rush.

Next the ambulance arrived and out came these two guys who were really beefy and hot looking. One of em had these cool flames tattooed up from his wrist. I know, not an appropriate time to be checking out the men, but I needed distraction from the stress I just went through.

Finally, against the paramedics medical advice, Travis didn’t go to the hospital and I had to sign as a witness that this was his choice. I wanted him to go to the hospital, but he absolutely refused. I think he was worried cause he’s got a warrant in the state and didn’t want to take the risk of going to jail.

So we all lay back down for the night, and by this time it’s 3am. I’m emotionally exhausted by now and when we lay back down, I started crying on Travis’ shoulder. He held me and kissed my hair and told me he was fine and there was nothing to worry about, and how much he loved me.

But I worried anyway and only got about an hour’s worth of sleep . . .

Memphis Blues (day 1, scene 1) . . . Entry for May 5, 2007

From my last few posting, you’ve read about TJ whose real name is Travis, my “flavor of the month” as someone calls him, and how he got separated from the band he’s in called “Rodeo Country”. For over a week his band members have been trying to get back from Oklahoma on to Nashville in an old Winnebago RV that keeps breaking down

Also the drivers keep getting pulled over and hassled by the authorities since no one driving has a valid license, which is where we enter this tale. Travis got a phone call from Stan, the lead singer and leader of their band, saying they were stuck at a truck stop in West Memphis Arkansas and couldn’t drive off without a licensed driver or they’d be taken to jail.

Stan asked if it would be possible for me to drive out there and Travis could drive them back to Nashville where Stan’s girlfriend was going to take over as driver. Since it was after the first of the month, I did have money in the bank. But I told him I didn’t have any cash to spare since I have to move somewhere by May 21st and the drive there and back would cost me around 70 bucks.

That’s when he told me that they could pay me when I got there, so I said OK. At least I would have that 5 hour drive to spend with Travis before we had to part, even though I admit, I was kinda ready for him to leave by then. We had established a relationship of sorts, but I still had a problem with all his “white” lies.

Checking out Yahoo Maps online, I saw that I could also drive through Nashville on my way to West Memphis and pick up Stan’s girlfriend Sandy and take her with us. That way I could have Travis drive me back to Nashville instead of driving myself alone.

While Travis was still on the phone, I started sucking his dick (we were still in bed naked when the call came in) and replied to a question that it was kind of hard to talk with my mouth full, lol. I’ve always loved to fuck with my partner sexually to see how long they could stand it before having to hang up.

I sucked Travis good and hard, I wanted to get in one more fuck before we had to shower and leave. His cock was at full attention and he was still on the phone when I mounted him. I yelled at the guys on the phone that Travis had to go, he was about to get laid again, and they hung up.

Mmmm, I was soaking wet and ready to ride when I climbed on his cock. Holding me by my hips, he thrust up fast and furious, just the way he knows it makes me squirt all over his cock. I was cumming loudly when I reached down and started rubbing my clit too, and got wetter still.

Pretty soon my knees were too weak to keep me up in that position, and I laid flat on my back, pulling my knees up and apart as he slid that rock hard young cock inside me. Seconds later I was flooding his dick again with my pussy juices, I could feel it dripping down to my ass.

Moaning loudly, I came and came again, squeezing his cock tighter and tighter with my pussy muscles. I grabbed him by the hair and thrust my hips up too, fucking him harder. I could tell he was about to cum, when I grabbed him by the ass and he came almost immediately. Pulsing my pussy muscles, I drained every last drop of cum from his dick.

Getting up, we took our showers and I packed in my little backpack a little blanket and a sleeping shirt just in case I had to spend the night in the car. That was a distinct possibility if it got too late for me to drive home without being too tired. Travis left a goodbye message on the phone to the kids, and I left them a message saying where we were going.

That all taken care of, we were off to Nashville to pick up their driver, Sandy . . .