Condoms and Pantyhose

Everyone urged me to start dating again, but I wasn't ready. I was hurt and bitter, and snapped at a few women until I realized I didn't like the direction I was taking, and got help.

The counselor this time was a woman. A little uneasy at first, she reassured me until I felt comfortable. So I told her about me and Anita, and how I was acting towards women in general.

"I think maybe I'm turning into a miso...misto...you know, one of those guys who hate women."

She actually laughed. "I don't think that's the case, or you would never agreed to come to me. I would have been viewed as just another bitch trying to mess up you world. Here's what I think. Even though you're divorced, you still love your wife. I also think as much as you would like to take her back, you can't. Not now, anyway. Your attitude towards women is just an offshoot of your pain. It may not seem like it, but life will get better, and you're too much of an innate gentleman to continue with your reaction to women. Sometime soon you'll realize they never did anything to hurt you and treat them accordingly. Anything else you want to talk about?"

I saw her six times. I learned that I didn't always communicate as well as I needed to, and that I was still a little immature and selfish. All things I admitted and tried to rectify. She also urged me to tell whoever I ended up with my story, including my faults, and hope that she could overcome them. If she loved me, it would be enough.

I calmed down. Four months later My boss called me into the office. There was a man there I'd never seen who turned out to be a vice president.

After the introductions and small talk he got down to the reason he was here.

"We have eleven locations in this country, and this one has the best efficiency rate of all. Being the astute man I am, I investigated, and every conversation turned to you. I'm having a lot of trouble with our plant in Alabama, and I'm not to pleased with the performance at our Kentucky facility. We want to offer you a position as a travelling trainer. We'll send you to any of our facilities who need help, to see if you can rectify the situation and make suggestions. Of course, there will be a significant increase in salary, your housing and transportation will be included, and there will even be bonuses tied to the speed of the turnaround. This is an experimental program, and we're only offering this opportunity to two people. The other guy is based in California and will handle everything on that side of the Mississippi, you get everything on this side. Think about it, and we'll give it a try if you're on board."

I was on a plane for Alabama four days later, met at the airport by a man with a company truck. We drove to the short term apartment complex that was to be my home for the next ten weeks.

The mechanical and training parts of the job were easily accomplished, and production went up immediately. I found it not to be a good working environment, the managers didn't trust their people or the maintenance staff. The second shift supervisor was a monumental pain in the ass, questioning everything, ordering unnecessary changes, slowing production down and then blaming the workers. Seven weeks in the Vice President who recruited me called.

"I see you're making progress. Good work. However, it's not as significant as I would have hoped. Any problems I need to know about?"

I hesitated, and he caught it. "Look, I didn't hire you to be a snitch. However, if something is hurting our efficiency you need to tell me, no matter what it is, be it personnel or equipment. It's part of your job description. And since you work directly for me now, you're outside the normal chain of command, so there will be no repercussions, do you understand?"

"Yes sir. Okay, you need to make some changes, especially on the second shift. It's a combative environment, and production is suffering. You need to get the management to understand they need to pull back and stop micromanaging. If the people know their jobs, there is no need to hover. Trust them, and it will pay off."

There was a moment of silence before he chuckled. "Well, I did tell you to speak the truth. Let me see what I can do."

Two days later the second shift manager was on his way to my base plant, to spend two weeks observing the operation there. Part of a new cross training experiment. To my surprise, I was made interim manager. Production went up seventeen per cent the second week. I'd like to say the manager came back with a new attitude, but he was back to his old ways in a month. I was sent back down the second month for three weeks to train the new manager.

Then I was off to Kentucky for six weeks. They were a pretty good outfit, so it didn't take long for things to improve. Word had gotten out I had the ear of my boss and bad things happened to those that didn't cooperate, so ti was a lot easier for me to get things done.

...

MY bank account was growing in leaps and bounds. When everything you needed except food was paid for, there wasn't a lot left to spend money on. I figured in another year I'd do some serious house shopping.

The week I came back from Kentucky Billy and Zippy called me for a business meeting. One of the results of the divorce was us getting banned from the local ponds, so Zippy was having to travel to fish. Zip's Mom, as usual, made a suggestion. "So you can't make any money fishing anymore. Why don't you try making money off the bait? You don't have to spend hours sitting up at night beside a stinky pond, just sit back and watch the money pour in."

We named the bait for her in gratitude. We got a lawyer Billy's dad knew, got the formula protected, and set ourselves up in business. Momma Rosilta's Magic featured a picture of her on the front of the package. She snorted when she saw it. "This is gonna be my shot at fame, my face on the bucket of a stinking pile of crap?"

We started out small, a few local bait shops, even a few carp ponds agreed to carry it. Business was slow at first, but picked up to the point where we couldn't keep up.

Our lawyer got us a bigger building, and we found mixers through a bakery supply business, huge things capable of mixing a couple hundred pounds at a time. We were buying grits, chicken livers, and perfume wholesale. It was a little trickier with the coffee grounds, until Billy came up with the idea of donating coffee to homeless shelters and soup kitchens, in exchange for the grounds. The other three ingredients were a carefully kept secret, Zippy mixed them up in his old bait shed and delivered them to our factory in unmarked bags.

We were running two shifts now, and still not keeping up with demand. When someone found they worked as well on catfish our sales exploded. We knew we had hit the big time when Walmart came calling. We'd heard enough horror stories about doing business with them that when they told us we would have to expand and put out five times the product to meet their contract, we thanked them and politely declined, shocking them no end.

We did end up signing a contract with one of the major sporting good stores, for all of our product, for two years, with a guaranteed order for three times our production. The contract called for a three month grace period to get up to speed, and we found another building, got bigger mixers, and were off to the races. The building housed a hundred and sixty mixers capable of five hundred pound batches. It had gotten so big Zippy had long since quit his old job and was now manager. His mother came on board, quitting her old job as office manager for a law firm, and ran the business side, for about twice what she had been making.

We were an LLC, Zippy owned a third, Billy owned a third, and I owned twenty per cent as a silent partner. Momma Rosie owned the other ten per cent, if it weren't for her we wouldn't even be here, and it guaranteed her staying with us.

...

It had been a year and a half, and I was home for the first time in eight months, moving from one plant to the other as needed. I even got to cross the river, working at a facility just outside of Kansas City.

I was well known throughout the company for my fondness of barbeque, even had tee shirts from different places I'd been. I loved a mustard based sauce in Alabama, a spicy thick brown sugar tomato style in Kentucky. Every state had a different blend. And in most cases, if you traveled thirty miles in any direction, you'd find another blend that was 'the best in the world'.

I decided to go to my favorite place in the world, and wore my new Kansas City shirt. The owner almost threw me out. I had to tell him it was a free shirt, and besides, everybody in the universe knew his was the ultimate. It placated him enough to let me eat. And give me a shirt I had to promise to wear the next time I was at an out of town joint, and I had to send pictures.

I saw her come in. Anita didn't notice me, and I got to look her over pretty good. She was thinner, and her hair was a lot shorter than I ever remembered. It was more blond than I remembered, but it suited her tan. She'd always liked the sun.

She was with two girls and another guy, and rather than let it get awkward when she saw me I walked over after they had been seated. She was laughing, but it died when she looked up.

"I didn't want to disturb you or your friends, Anita. I just didn't want it to get awkward when you saw me, so I thought I'd come over and say hello. Like the new do, girl. Looks good on you. Enjoy your meal."

She touched her hair with a little smile on her lips. "Thank you, Bud. You look pretty good yourself. Travel must agree with you."

Well, when you're gone as much as I am, it came down to whether I wanted to spend my time in bars or the gym, and I never was much of a drinker. I'll let you get to your meal now. And 'Nita, it is good to see you again."

Her eyes got big when I used my pet name for her, and she nodded as I moved back to my table. Three minutes later someone loomed over me. It was her, and she was holding her plate.

"Can I share your table? We were going to get it to go, but I think I'd like to stay awhile."

I stood up and pulled out a chair for her.

So we ate, and we talked. Really talked. She surprised me when she told me she had quit the hospital and had gotten a job in an office with regular hours. The pay wasn't quite as much, but she finally had the experience everyone had wanted when she first started out, so she did all right.

She surprised me by telling me she had a therapist she met with once a month, to keep her anger issues in check and her focus clear. I told her about my sessions, which surprised her.

Anita finally got around to asking the question that must have been bugging her since she saw me.

"Seeing any one?"

I laughed, surprising her. "Not seriously. Hard to establish a romance when you're gone as much as I am. I'm not willing to subject any one to a part time relationship, it wouldn't be fair."

She smiled. "Me either. At first, with my schedule, it wasn't really possible to start dating except for people I worked with, and well, you know...'

She stopped, a bit embarrassed. I surprised her by taking her hand. "You don't need to dredge up bad memories. The past is the past, and we don't need to dwell on it. How about now? You've got normal working hours, so it should give you plenty of time.

It seemed to embarrass her to admit she had dated a few men. Realistically, I didn't expect her to become a nun. She also added she had found anyone worth more than three dates.

She changed the subject, asking about my shirt, so I spent the rest of the meal telling her about wild places I'd visited and strange things I'd eaten. Barbequed alligator wasn't that bad, armadillo not so much. Ostrich was pretty good though, as was mutton from Kentucky. She made faces as I talked and giggled at my assessments. She finally looked down at her watch.

"Shit! I'm late! I have to go. Thanks for spending time with me, Bud. It really was good to see you." Before I could think she leaned down and gave me a very nice kiss. "Call me when you're in town, I would not mind at all if you did."

I looked down after she walked out the door, seeing a business card. It was her office, and her number was written on the back. I thought about it for a while before I slipped it into my wallet.

...

We would see each other once in a while when I was home. I think she would have liked to have gotten intimate, but I just couldn't. She gave up for awhile, and started seeing another nurse from a different office.

I still traveled, still went to the gym, but I had developed a new interest, taking online classes. I wanted to be more than just a travelling trainer. When my boss found out he had the company pay for the classes, calling it an investment. I'd had a little community college, so I go my degree in Business Mgmt in two and a half years. I got the diploma in the mail, deeply aware how painful it was not to have someone to share it with.

Then my boss called me, telling me to come to corporate headquarters. He introduced me to my replacement. "You've done a hell of a job, but I know well how traveling can be on a young man. Now that you've got that degree it's time to move you along. The manager at your home facility is retiring, and the production manager is moving up. I suddenly have a vacancy in my management team, and you would be the perfect fit. You've got four months before Jack retires, but I'll need an answer in two, so I can look for someone else if you decide you're not interested. Something else to think about, the production manager is in his late fifties, so sometime down the road the manager position will be open again, and you know how I like to promote from within. Think about it, and in the meantime, Jones here is going to travel with you. I always need more trainers."

I did think about it, and decided it would be good for me. I was tired of the road. It was fun for awhile, but I liked the idea of waking up with the same roof over my head every day.

...

I almost fell in love. She was from Alabama, a brilliant redhead with a body a lot like my ex, except her breasts were a lot bigger. She was a production scheduler, and we often worked together when I was there. We got to talking about hobbies, and she revealed she loved to fish. She even had a boat.

She said it with a smirk, and I got the story out of her. Her husband, besides being a serial cheater, was an avid fisherman and had a top of the line Ranger bass boat, with every bell and whistle. When she finally confronted him, and they divorced, she gave up other things to get his boat, wanting to hurt him as much as she could. It sat for a year before she finally decided to use it, and was instantly hooked. She didn't like bass fishing, though, she fished for the monster cats in the nearby lake. Her current record was twenty-eight pounds.

I casually asked what kind of bait she used. This was before we signed with the sporting goods store, so we were strictly local. The next time I came down we made a date to take her boat out that weekend. I had brought five pounds of our bait.

Catfishing is a lot like carp fishing, it's best at night. We put in a couple of hours before sunset, and just cruised the lake. Molly caught me looking at a couple of girls on another boat, and peeled off her tee shirt, displaying a stunning set of boobs in a very small bikini top. She laughed at my open mouth.

"Think you can keep your eyes in the boat from now on?"

"Most definitely."

We pulled into the mouth of a cove, one of her favorite fishing spots, anchored, dropped our lines in the water, and opened a beer. Forty minutes and three beers later she got bored. The boat had very nice, oversized upholstered fishing chairs, and she climbed into onto my lap and wiggled around, surprizing the shit out of me.

"I think we need to take this opportunity to get to know each other better, don't you?"

I was all for that, but made a token protest.

"What about the fish?"

"Fuck the fish. I got the drags set, we'll know if we get a bite."

One thing led to another and I soon had her top off, feasting on her thick nipples as she squirmed. I came up for air and asked her if the bikini bottom matched the top.

"It sure does. I'd show it to you, but I'm not wearing it. The only thing under these shorts is me. Wanna see?"

I sure did. She stood up, facing away from me, and shimmied out of her shorts. Her ass was everything I hoped it would be, firm and full. She looked over her shoulder and grinned. "You're overdressed."

I was out of my shorts in seconds, hard as a rock. She looked back again, said "nice," and dropped back down into my lap, impaling herself. We both let out a loud sigh. It wasn't quite dark, seems she was a bit of an exhibitionist. Not that I minded, but I did point out a few boats in the area. She slipped her bikini top back on. At casual glance it looked like she was just sitting on her boyfriends' lap.

Then she started wiggling, rotating her hips and sliding back and forth until we were both breathing hard. Then she started rising up an inch or two and dropping down. getting faster and faster. I could tell she was close when the drag on one of the rods started clicking. Then it started screaming.

She ignored it until she screamed out in orgasm, rising off me and grabbing the rod before sitting back down. With me firmly encased inside, she started trying to pull the fish in. I was enjoying the gyrations when she screamed again, coming off me fighting the rod, bent almost double. "Grab the net! Grab the net!"

It took her another thirty minutes to get it close enough to the boat to net. I took one look, dropped the net, and grabbed a gaff. I got it hooked and we put a few more in it to make sure it didn't get off.

"Holy fuck that thing is huge! I bet it weighs fifty pounds!"

Then she looked down and giggled. "Sorry, baby. But I promised, I will make it up to you." I surprised her by nipping a very firm ass cheek. She squealed, laughed, and reached for me when another rod went double. We caught eight fish in ninety minutes, the smallest a mere nineteen pounds.

We motored slowly to a marina, one famed for it's scales. The guys nearly flipped when she showed them the fish she would like weighed. Eight fish, the biggest weighing sixty-nine pounds, a new lake record. They kept that particular fish in a specially designed live well until the state could send someone out to verify. The marina would get a lot of attention as people came to ogle the fish for the next two days. Molly got a writeup in the local and state papers, an article in the state wildlife magazine, and a television interview. I got a mention as her fishing companion. When asked what bait she used, she only said it was a commercial bait that could be bought anywhere, and she was just going to let people figure out which one on their own.

She did indeed make the interruption on the boat up to me, and in subsequent visits she made sure we rocked the boat BEFORE we baited a hook.

She was funny, sexually exciting, a good conversationalist, and damn easy on the eyes. I was just about ready to ask for a more exclusive relationship when she cancelled a date, and I saw her at a restaurant later with another man, and the way they touched each other let every one know they weren't strangers. I didn't see her at all that weekend or the following week at work, she had taken some vacation time.

The next month she was all over me, and noticed how cool I was. She sighed. "You saw me, didn't you?"

"Yes. But don't sweat it, we hadn't made commitments.I would have preferred to hear it from you, but it's okay."

"Look, I'm sorry. Brad(ever notice how many guys with the name Brad are connected with cheating? Someone should do a paper on that.)is my regular boyfriend. He's been out of the country for almost a year doing contract work, and he got unexpected time off. We'll eventually end up married. He knows how much I like sex, and I know he won't do without either, so we reached an agreement. Whatever we do, whoever we see while we're apart is none of our business and we don't need to know. You're a lot of fun, Bud, and you're almost as good as Brad technique wise. I'd like to keep seeing you, his contract isn't up for another eight months."