Barbie Doll Ch. 01

Chas promised to see what he could do and he'd look into filing an alienation of affection suit against the woman if he could track her down and if there was enough on the videos. I told him I would bring his retainer by on Monday or Tuesday. We shook hands and I went out of his office and walked straight into his receptionist who liked to listen at open doors.

I had to grin, everything went according to plan.

While this was the first time I had met Chas in his office, he had been my 'barroom lawyer' for several months. All the things that needed fixing were legitimate things to be taken from the Roth. Some were for the house, some for Gina. The truck was for me, but that was only so I could give my car to my wonderful son going off to college since we bought one for Gloria when she went.

I stopped at the bank Monday and withdrew another ten thousand from the ROTH to cover lawyer and living expenses for the pending divorce. The bank clerk looked like she was going to create a fuss and try to stop me from withdrawing the money.

"She cheated on me." The clerk seemed a bit skeptical, "I came home early and found her in bed with her girlfriend." The woman was flabbergasted and very apologetic. I had just happened to pick the clerk with the prominent cross around her neck and various slightly religious things on her desk.

She was also kind enough to put a note on the accounts that there was a divorce pending and that an official freeze order would be coming. I told her to put five hundred in Gina's savings account before she did that and not to put the notice on the savings account so she would have some money to eat on. Another seed planted and a point scored.

Gina was served Wednesday, and Friday afternoon Cherie was served at her work.

"What's this?" Cherie asked the process server.

"That's what you get when you have an affair with another man's wife." She said on her way out the door. Chas just happened to pick a mouthy process server that had been screwed over before. My giving her permission to voice her sentiments at the time of serving didn't hurt.

Of course Gina's lawyer was hollering about the divorce papers, but when asked when he had first met Gina he clamed up, when he was told we had a weeks worth of wild sex and financial planning between the women he was steaming but controlling it.

Chas laid it out. She could agree to take the house and leave my pension alone since they were about the same value or it could go to a public trial. Gina threw a fit claiming there was more than that in my retirement. Chas laid out the statement showing the withdrawals and the reasons on the table beside the now larger equity loan balance on the house after her improvements. Gina bellowed about they weren't supposed to be paid from that. But they had been and she didn't have a leg to stand on.

When reminded if she went to court we would insist the video be played for the judge in open court she gave in. I also told her in front of her lawyer that we would put irreconcilable differences on the official paperwork, but if she ever said anything derogatory about me in our marriage to anyone, especially the kids, they would get an unedited copy of her week long escapade while I was out of town on a business trip.

"That's blackmail!" her lawyer shouted.

"That's giving her a chance to start over which is more than they were going to give him," Chas responded. "And it has the added bonus of being true and from her own mouth."

We signed paperwork and went our way. November of that year I 'sold' a tractor to Mike and was able to put back everything into my Roth that I had withdrawn that year. The fees to Chas were actually paid from what I had pulled for the various repairs prior to the end of the year, but since cash doesn't have account numbers who could really tell. It cost me a little tax money, but my retirement was all mine. It was up to the dykes to figure out if they should sell or keep the house. I never wanted to step foot in it again.

Gina did keep her word for a while on the divorce, but after an ear burning call from Gloria about my abusing her mother it was time for the truth to come out. I sent a CD to Curt to give to Gloria explaining that she wouldn't talk to me and to show her the CD of the truth of what happened.

There was a long pause, "What's on the CD dad?"

"Do you really want to know Curt?"

"Probably not but I think we're beyond that..." my son the law student.

I held my breath for a few seconds, "Your mother and someone else... in our bed." I said slowly and distinctly, not really wanting to tell my son his mother was a cheating dyke.

There was an even longer pause from his end, "I'll make sure she sees it," another pause, "Sorry Dad."

"Not your fault son..."

"Bye Dad..."

"Bye..." in all my years of shitty duties and calls, that was the hardest conversation I had ever had. I hated her all over again for forcing me to do it.

Gloria still didn't speak to me for another month, Curt said she quit speaking to Gina as well.

A few weeks after that I was in the middle of honing out a cylinder when I heard Mike whistle. I shut the drill down and looked up. "Hey Ken, somebody here to see you." I looked in time to see Gloria running toward me with open arms leaping at me. I dropped the drill and caught my baby girl, holding her as tight as I could.

"I'm sorry Daddy," I head muffled into my shoulder.

"For what?" letting her back a bit so I could look her in the face.

"For all those thing I said when Momma... when she..."

I pulled her back close, "Shhhhh, nothing to worry about."

"I take it you actually acknowledge knowing this old coot." I heard from behind us.

Gloria released her grip on me and slid down to her own two feet. "Mike, I'd like you to meet my baby girl Gloria."

She put a hand out to shake, "HI!" she turned slightly back to me, "And I'm not a baby any more."

Mike laughed, "Honey, to a father you will always be a baby girl."

Gloria just groaned.

We chatted a bit before Gloria turned to me and batted her eyes, "So where are you taking your baby girl out for dinner."

Mike chuckled and I groaned this time. "Go on Ken, that engine has been around for fifty years, another day or two won't make a difference."

"Okay," I turned to Gloria. "You want to wait down here while I run up and clean up and shower?"

"That's okay Dad, I can come up."

"Well uh..." trying to remember if I put some of my magazines back in the drawer or not.

Gloria grinned, "Dad, I'm in med school. I know where all the parts are and what there're for. And I've seen plenty of bachelor pads in college."

Mike almost fell down laughing, Gloria grinned at me. I made some kind of noise I'm sure. My baby in a bachelor pad...

Fast forward a few years.

Gloria is in her residency and Curt has a little over a year to go. Gina had to get a part time job even with Cherie moving in. Last I heard from the kids she had managed to sell the house and they were moving to Houston for Cherie's work. Seems she had a bit of a reputation for stealing women for some reason... Hmmmm

Mike and I have gotten quite a little business going with restoring tractors even if I'm only part time evenings and weekends. His talent for body and paint work and my engineering back ground and an unknown knack for old engines has started to come together. We only take on one or two at a time and they are done when they are done. Sometimes parts are easy to find, sometimes not so much. Once in a while we have to have a machine shop down the road make new parts from scratch. And since I have soooo much female companionship I usually work on tractors until I'm tired, go to bed, and start all over again the next day after work.

Oh and we never start anything without a HUGE deposit and ongoing payments when we get close to what is on deposit for that particular tractor things stop. More than once some one's eyes were bigger than their budget. The only one we ever finished without being fully paid was one we did for a guy that had his grandfathers tractor rebuilt to give to his dad. Hid dad passed away a few months before it was finished. We finished it and just presented it to him. There was no way we were going to nit pick over a few thousand dollars profit for that. Our expenses were covered and a little bit left over for the light bill, but that was all right with us.

And then there was Amy. I met Amy during a bout with my own cooking after dumping the latest gold digger and had to retreat to a local watering hole. She was a new face and nice enough looking, but not the big chest like Gina. Low cut top showing a bit of lace bra and mid thigh skirt. I enjoyed looking at her legs when she set the water down, and she had a nice wiggle to her ass as she walked away.

My cooking became worse and worse as I visited the diner more and more. Always waiting to see what section Amy was in and enjoying the view when I did trying for a corner booth for the best view when possible.

Her skirts were always above the knee, and the mid thigh one I first saw her in was the shortest she would wear at work. Tops were always revealing without being to brazen and usually letting a bit of lace show if she could get away with it. We had bantered a bit back and forth lately, with her giving me a hard time about my long dry spell lately with women. She knew part of the story about my divorce so it was just some light kidding.

That all changed the day after another bad blind date.

"Hey grumpy, what can I start you off with today?" she grinned down at me, "Coffee, tea, or me?"

I looked at her for a second, then down at her nice expanse of chest with a little bit of pink lace showing today and said back flat. "That last one sounds nice but I think Tom would have us arrested if I spread you out on the table here so I'll have to go with just my coffee."

"Oh...okay," and scurried off to get my coffee. She took my order and brought it to me without her usual chit chat.

As I was paying my bill, "Um Ken, about earlier, when I said... um..."

I managed to smile at her. "Nothing to worry about Amy, just another bad first date. Wonder what the prize is if I get a hundred of them?"

"You just haven't met a good one yet." She managed to smile back at me.

I kept smiling and shook my head, "The only one I know of for sure is my daughter and she still gets on my case."

She smiled back, but another customer behind me precluded any further conversation.

Or 'relationship' changed after that. Amy was a little more attentive when I came in. Touched and bumped a bit more, even lingered over my table a bit more giving me a few glimpses of more than just the edge of those lace bras.

Later for the homecoming parade I was driving Mike's old full vision John Deere tractor behind a few of the car club entries. We were waived into position and off we went. It was pure torture to be behind the old classics with every body in them dressed up. The guys in white t-shirts and greased hair, the girls in their cotton shirts and poodle skirts. I just followed and enjoyed the view as they twisted and turned waving to the people along the road giving me the nicest profile I had seen live in a long time.

Unfortunately I had to pull off when we got to the park, the tractors were going to be on display for the weekend. We got everything set and roped off. Mike went one way with Veronica, I went toward the entrance looking for Matt to give me a ride back to the shop.

I waited and paced for about half an hour then just started walking. It was only three miles to the shop, and if I had just started walking from the beginning I would have been there by now. I had made it about a quarter of a mile when an old Chevy truck pulled over and a head popped out. I should have taken it as a sign she drove a Chevy.

"You lost or something?" It was Amy.

"Naaa," I grinned at her smiling face, "Matt was supposed to run me back to the shop but he didn't show. So it's good old shoe leather."

"He's probably following Marie around like a puppy dog. Hop in, I'll give you a lift."

I hoped in and enjoyed the view as much as the ride. Evidentially Amy was one of the girls in the old cars. Cotton shirt and poodle skirt letting a fair amount of leg show. She grinned and I watched for the few minutes it took to get to the shop.

Amy came in supposedly to use the bathroom, but more like snooping around while she could. I decided against a shower knowing she was nosing around downstairs and just put some fresh clothes on and headed back downstairs.

I found Amy nosing around the shop taking an interest in my tool cabinet.

Mike had his decorated with various centerfolds that left little if nothing to the imagination.

Mine I guess reflected my youth. I had a few copies of some nose art, and a few from one of my magazines taped inside the lid. My favorite of a brunette with her hair done up in the big curls in a super pointed lace bra with matching panties and wide garter belt looking like she was taking her stockings off front and center. The one behind it out of view was the same pose but minus everything, only her strategically crossed legs hid most of her pussy hair and NONE of her chest.

Amy saw me coming and smiled, "Not quite what I was expecting."

"So I should get some like Mike's?"

Amy bumped her shoulder to me, "Na, they suit you. Glamour instead of slut."

"Glamour huh? Never looked at it like that."

"I bet not. And just how did you look at them?"

Oh she's ornery. "More like when women that wanted to be looked at dressed to be looked at. Those that didn't didn't, and neither whined and complained about the comments and looks they got or didn't get much less sued you for checking them out."

That earned me a raised eyebrow and a grunt. "So you ready to head back in?"

"I'll meet you there, I have all the chairs and table and stuff to set up around the tractors in my truck."

"Okay, see ya there." She strolled back out to her pickup with a nice swinging of the hips, I enjoyed the view of her doing that.

I got things set up around the tractors, and Matt came back with his arm around Marie to apologize for forgetting to give me a ride. I had to grin, I'd forget about me too if I had a babe in a skimpy bikini top and daisy duke shorts clinging to my arm. And there was definitely no lining in that little bikini top!

Amy decided to stay in her top and skirt, but opted to trade the fancy shoes in for regular tennis shoes. She stopped by several times, and once when all the chairs were full she decided to stay for a bit and plopped down on my lap and pulled my arms around her belly, then snuggled in and pulled one arm up under her tits letting my forearm take some of the weight of them.

She sat there a bit, even leaning back against my shoulder giving me an unobstructed view down her cleavage seeing quite a bit of that lace bra but not any of the good parts. She seemed to enjoy squirming on my lap noting my enjoyment of the view poking her butt though.

The next few visits were almost as friendly, and there was a few more buttons undone on the last visit. "So what are we having supper? Corn dogs or Bar-B-Q?"

The thought of Amy nibbling on a corn dog went straight to my crotch. "I think some Bar-B-Q sound wonderful."

I should have went with the corn dogs, watching Amy enjoy her pulled pork sandwich was arousing, and the big drop of sauce in her cleavage made me realize how long it had been between 'girlfriends'. Her grin when she wiped it and licked it off her fingers said she knew EXACTLY what she was doing.

A few weeks later after enjoying my dinner watching Amy work, she slipped something in with my check. I looked down to see the back side of a Polaroid. I glanced around to see if anybody was looking, then slowly turned it over. It was Amy, dressed in a sweater and poodle skirt, but with a very pointed bra and letting some stocking top, I hope, show like the picture on the side of my tool box.

I had to go home and relieve a little tension staring at her picture in that outfit. I taped the picture up inside my tool box but kinda out of sight. Made me grin when I looked at it. I was just beginning to be able to look at Amy at the diner without getting a hardon when she presented me with another upside down Polaroid with my check. I didn't think twice about turning it over assuming it was another 'glamour' picture like the first one.

What I saw made me start choking on my coffee. It was the same outfit and pose... almost. The sweater was missing and she was now showing a nice old fashioned pointed bra containing a not insignificant chest as she was lowering her skirt letting the top of her panties begin to show. I looked at her walking away, she looked over her shoulder and winked at me. If I hadn't just choked on my coffee I probably would be choking on it again.

Now I'm not a decrepit old man, but never in a million years would I have expected a beautiful thirty eight year old woman would take an interest in a guy coming up on his fiftieth birthday. The shirtless retro polaroid in my hand suggested I could be wrong about that. Either that or Mike was playing a REALLY sick joke.

"Hey Ken, see something you like?" Amy asked as she leaned over to top off my water. She stayed bent over turning to look at me letting her shirt gap open in front of my face. I looked down her shirt to see an old fashioned pointed bra. I looked back and forth a few times, then looked her in the eye as she stood up. "Want something to nibble on?"

Amy giggled as I looked between her chest and the picture, then walked away with her ass swinging like she was trying to shake her skirt off. I think I could rule Mike out...

The next few weeks Amy made a point of changing the subject any time I got anywhere near the subject of her outfit or even close to retro lingerie. But she did seem to be taking quite some pleasure in wearing white pocketless tops and leaning back enough to let me know she was wearing one of those retro bras under it. Pink, yellow, white, white lace... was that a shadow of nipple I saw behind that lace?

That torture lasted a few weeks before the next polaroid was slipped into my check. I did NOT flip this one over quickly.

OH MY FUCKING GOD! Amy standing in front of a beige back drop, turned enough to see the seams running up the back of her stockings while those white lace encased pointers were in PERFECT profile. I knew they were stockings for sure this time because the skirt had went the way of her sweater and was completely gone.

I looked up to see Amy standing against the kitchen door in almost the same pose as the picture. It went up next to her other pictures in my tool box lid. Okay, not right away, I had to put it under a magnifying glass first to see if there were any details I had missed.

If those weeks were torture I don't know what to call the days after that picture. Whenever I came in she would trade tables away from me. I could watch her ass wiggle and her chest jiggle from a distance but that's it. I took it for ten days and switched restaurants, the pictures went into the bottom drawer under my engine manual. No more games from Amy.

The biggest pain was the new restaurant. The old place was a true restaurant, the new one was more like trying to be a sports bar. TV's on the wall, rowdy youngsters by the middle of the afternoon, good luck trying to hear yourself think after seven...

"Hi Ken."

I looked up to see Amy, "Hi Amy." I went back to my chili, one of the things they did better here. She sat down across from me, still wearing the pointed bra she had been teasing me with. I looked at her every so often between bites.

"Are you mad at me Ken?"

I looked at her finishing my bite, "Mad, no. Disappointed maybe, but not mad."