Maybe It Was Memphis

For Danny
The warm water rushes over Craig’s head and down his naked shoulders and back. He flexes he long lean muscles, letting the heat seep into his tired bones. He’s too old to be doing this job he thinks to himself as he lifts his face into the shower steam, this really is a job for a kid; a teenager. Twenty five years ago he could not have imagine himself doing this job all day at his age. No back then he was still a young man with a young dreams of fortunate and glory. Like all other twenty two year olds he was ten feet tall and bullet proof. But after two and a half decades of hard living he found himself here in the backwoods of nowhere, his glory used up, a back that ached, callous on his hands and nothing to show for it but a beat up old pick up truck, broken down house, and a pair of old cow boy boots. He felt more wronged than Job.
With a sigh he begins to lather the hard muscles of his chest and for a moment his mind plays a cruel joke on him and he entertains the notion that it is her hands his body. It is all too easy for him to close his blue eyes and imagine the feel of her soft fingers trailing up his arms, exploring the firm biceps that long years of hard work built up. A smile plays at his lips as he thinks about how he could tantalize her with the strength of his body. He bets none of those big city college boys will look as good as he does when they get to be his age. In his mind’s eye he continues to let her fingers discover him as takes her in his arms and slowly pulls her close to him whispering her name over and over.
Lust sings out in his brain as he thinks about how those delicious curves would fit against him with nothing between them; to wrap his arms around her, to slide his hands down her bare shoulders and back. Before he knows it he is rock hard. I am certainly too old for this he thinks as his hand wraps around his rebellious member. But he must have relief. If he cannot have her in person then at least he can have her in the privacy of his fantasy.
She was new in town, visiting friends she claimed. Just a mere slip of a woman, but all curves with flashing green eyes and flowing red hair that perfectly caught the Indian summer sun in its flowing locks. The thought of his hands tangled in her hair makes him grow even harder than before. What he wouldn’t do to posses her, to crush his mouth against her lips, feel the heavy weight of her breast in his hands, her legs sliding up to wrap around his waist. Oh god he was going to drive himself mad thinking about her this way.
He knows that she is a woman way out of his league. He knows he is probably old enough to be her father, just a washed up cowboy. She is so young and pretty; and smart to boot, how could she know anyone in this one horse hick town he can not imagine but here she was; stopping in to get gas every other day always with a friendly smile for him and telling him that she thought that full service gas stations were a thing of the past and had not seen one since she was a little girl.
He doesn’t think of her as a little girl but as a full-grown woman. Wants to think of her as warm and willing and spread out beneath him; his face buried in her hair. He wants her arms wrapped around him, her soft voice letting out little moans near his ear as he nuzzles her neck and shoulders, nips at her collar bone and works his way down to feast on the twin mounds of her breast. He would take one velvety soft nipple in his mouth laving it to a hard peak with his tongue and yet softly caresses the other with his thumb, over and over till she pleaded with him to come back and kiss her lips again.
Why did she have to be so nice to him? Not that the other women in this town were mean to him. They all treated him kindly, esp. during the winter when it snowed and they didn’t have to get out of their nice warm vehicles to pump their gas. But they were all married or good Christians ladies, or both. There was nothing like this exotic little tropical bird who seemed to have gotten lost in the hills of Tennessee.
She always seem to have a private smile just for him and thoughts of kissing those pert lips while having her pressed up against, those full breast crushed against his chest while he buried himself deeply inside her as she matched his passion stroke for stroke was almost too much for him too bear. He leaned his head against the shower wall, thinking of how he would kiss her hard while he made her come, catching her moans in his lips. His own release shuddered through him at the thought of pleasing her.
As the water washed away the evidence of his lust he whispered her name, “Amber.”