My Autumn and My Winter

"Oh!" Autumn said. "Ohhhh that's...that's different...mmmmmm..."

Steve squinted, wishing he could make out what Iorich was up to. With her hair in the way he only caught brief glimpses of her glistening lips and tongue. Whatever she was doing, Autumn seemed to enjoy it.

He reached out and caressed Iorich's rear, enjoying the satiny soft feeling of her skin. She arched her back at his touch, lifting her hips in the air in a signal that could not be misinterpreted. He stepped up to the bed and positioned himself for entry, holding his shaft in his hand. Iorich's head came up from Autumn's crotch for a moment as he slid inside her. Steve gasped as she was smaller than Autumn—smaller than any other woman he'd ever been with. He could only fit himself about halfway before his crown was mashed into her quivering jelly. Steve dragged himself back out, groaning with the effort, because she had clamped down on him when he was at his deepest.

There was a bit of pain in almost every sexual episode—Steve was used to this, particularly with Autumn. However, he was honestly convinced that his and Iorich's bodies were simply incompatible. She seemed fine, her head still bobbing from her ministrations to his wife. He felt like his manhood was about to be pinched off.

Autumn had her hands knotted with blonde hair. Her brown eyes where squeezed shut, lips slightly parted as light pants escaped them. Steve continued the painful thrusting until Iorich ground her hips against his. He released, his neck arching back until he stared at the deer head on the wall. Then he was gratefully dragging his penis back out with a wet pop. The flesh looked more red than normal, but he figured he would survive the rough treatment.

Iorich continued to maul Autumn's crotch until the tattooed woman let out a piercing scream that Steve was certain had carried to the other rooms. He winced when he saw that Autumn had torn out a small strand of blonde locks in her passion, but Iorich didn't seem to mind.

"Sorry," Autumn said, awkwardly handing the lock of hair back.

"Don't worry about it," said Iorich, wiping her mouth—on Steve's shirt?

The women missed his sour expression as the blonde tossed the soiled garment onto the floor. Autumn glanced up at his sweating, furrowed face and chuckled.

"I think somebody's jealous," she said.

"Or tired," said Iorich with a whiff of her usual coldness.

"He'd better NOT be tired! I need my daily allowance of cock."

Iorich had the good grace to chuckle at the jibe while Steve grabbed Autumn by the ankles. She squealed as he dragged her to where he knelt on the bed. Iorich watched with what he took to be unfeigned interest. Entering Autumn was much easier, but she had the ability to tighten her cunt to a point where it was even smaller than the producer's. She held him tightly, making his withdrawals more stuttering than his thrusts.

Apparently watching wasn't good enough for their host. She crawled over Autumn's torso and knelt with her nether lips hovering right in front of his wife's mouth. Steve leaned forward, Autumn's legs hanging over his shoulders, and pumped his hips strongly. Iorich must have disappointed in Autumn's performance. After all, how could his wife be giving good head when she was constantly gasping and screaming out her orgasms?

Chapter 21

"I don't think this is a town, Rich."

Susan squinted at the ramshackle truck stop squatting on the side of the road. The badly faded Citgo sign had long ago toppled, so someone had simply braced it upright against a tree stump facing the road. It certainly looked like the landmark they were searching for.

"This has got to be it. Unless there's a bunch of gas stations without their signs down here."

"That wouldn't surprise me," said Susan with a chuckle. "Still, we're here, might as well check it out."

They exited the truck, shoes crunching on gravel as they approached the truck stop. Diablo clucked a bit, but it sounded to Rich like the great noble bird was simply talking in his sleep.

Sleep sounded good. They'd been on the road for two days with only fiftul naps to keep them going. If they didn't find the girl soon, he was going to have to request more time off.

Susan swung open the battered door and held it for Rich. They entered a dimly lit interior, a low bar directly in front of them. Rooms that a sign in Spanish and English declared were available at an hourly rate were partly visible down a short hallway. The smell alone discouraged Rich from even thinking about using one for the night, not to mention the fact that none of the rooms had doors.

At first he didn't spot the short man behind the bar. A friendly voice rang out, and his eyes focused on the pudgy bearded man with a lazy eye.

"Welcome," he had an accent, but it seemed a little off to Rich, like he was from Cuba or further south. "You must be the gringo wrestlers."

"Close enough," said Susan, stepping up to the man. The inkeeper swallowed, visibly impressed with the big woman's size. "Where do you want us to unload the bird?"

"Unload?"

"Yeah, we do need to get going. This is kind of a side trip for us."

"I don't understand," the man shook his head slowly. "Chui said that Diablo had two gringo handlers."

"Handlers?"

"It's not hard, essay. A champion fighter like El Diablo knows his role, and requires no coaxing for the kill. It is truly sad that this will be his last fight."

"Yeah," Rich said "tragic. Susan, you wanna talk to me for a second?"

Rich and Susan walked a short distance away.

"What's the deal, Susie?" Rich spoke in a hissing whisper. "I thought we were just going to pick up and drop off the damn bird, now we have to go to a cock fighting ring? Do you have any idea how wretched those places are?"

"Never been to one. I think you're overreacting, Rich."

"Yeah, well, I've actually been to a cock fight, and let me tell you I feared for my life the whole time."

"Diablo won't let anything happen to us."

"Oh, won't let anything happen? Like my car getting stolen?"

Susan shrugged.

"I'm sorry about that Rich, but I'm sure he'll make good on it."

"You're sure? The only thing I'm sure about is that this trip gets worse every second! I'm down here in bum fuck Mexico acting as Don King to the Mike Tyson of chickens, and I'm not even being paid for it. Meanwhile, Crawley is back home screwing Phil in every way imaginable during the brief seconds out of the day that she's not busy hating my guts. Swear to God, I'm NEVER coming back down here again."

"I'm sorry your tampon is leaking, Rich."

"What?"

"C'mon, I'll buy you a beer. Things aren't as bad as they seem."

"Whatever, man. You didn't get YOUR car stolen."

Rich followed Susan back to the bar and they sat down. Soon he was nursing a watered down beer while the big man received directions to the cock fighting venue. It didn't sound like it was far away, but there was bad news; The fight wasn't scheduled until tomorrow.

Declining the offer of a free room—vehemently—the pair went out to the truck for an uncomfortable night. Susan went back into the hotel and borrowed linens that looked halfway clean and stretched out to sleep in the bed of the truck. Rich did his best to get comfortable in the front seat, but he had to keep his knees bent unless he wanted to stick them out the window.

"Hey, Rich," came Susan's voice through the open rear windshield. "You awake?"

"Ya think?"

She chuckled.

"I was wondering about your dad. I met your Ma years ago, but I don't recall Steve even mentioning what your dad did for a living."

Rich snorted.

"I have no fucking idea, as the asshole ran out on us when I was a year old."

"Sorry. Didn't mean to-"

"Nah, it's alright." Rich forced himself to relax. With a start he realized that he had always envied Steve for his father. "Mom used to say he was mechanic or something. If he had a job, he never sent us any money."

"I always felt bad for your ma. The way she had to work so hard all the time."

"She always used to say 'I make a man's salary'. She was worth ten of my father. At least."

"Must have been rough growing up without a dad."

"I guess. Had a hard time in Jr. High, that's for damn sure."

"Why is that? I'd have figured you for a lady killer even then."

"Those were the Icky Ricky days, and besides that I had no idea how to talk to girls. My mom just told me to act nicely and be myself. Took me years to figure out that women are fucking crazy."

"You'll get no argument from me," said Sarah with a laugh. "Of course, we're not any crazier than you men, but what kind of crazy are you talking?"

"They say that they want a nice man who treats them well, but that's a load of bullshit."

"Is it?" Susan asked, eyes narrowing to slits.

"Of course it is! Put your feet on the coffee table, and your girlfriend kicks you out. Beat the living crap out of her, cheat on her, and they stay with you forever."

"That's something of a stereotype. Still, there are women who do like jerks."

"Yeah, your momma married one."

"Ba-zing." Sarah laughed obligingly, though her eyes seemed hard. "You know, Rich, I think I know what your problem is."

"I'm sleeping in a truck stop parking lot in Mexico hoping a druglord who thinks it's Halloween year long gets my car stolen car back?"

"Uh, besides that." The big woman cleared her throat, rising up to put her face through the open window. "I think your dad running out on you, and your Ma dying young, have left you with abandonment issues."

"Abandonment issues?" Rich sat up himself, glaring at Steve's father. "Gee, thanks Dr. Phil."

"Seriously, dude. You think that if you care about someone too much, they'll leave you."

"Shut up, Susie."

"That's why you always go for one night stands and booty calls. If you don't care about the women you sleep with, they can't hurt you, right?"

"Ha ha, this has been very funny. Shut. Up."

"That's also why you ran down here with me. You were starting to care about Vanya, maybe even starting to love her, and so you had to get as far away as-"

"SHUT UP!"

Diablo began squawking, and Susan held up a hand in surrender.

"Sorry, but I had to do that," she said.

"Why?"

"You needed it."

"Like a damn hole in the head. I'm not pining for Sven's fucking sister, okay?"

Rich laid back with a sigh, jamming his fingers into his ears so he didn't have to hear Diablo's warbling.

** *

Steve gritted his teeth as the makeup artist applied another layer of blush to his cheeks. Apparently, he had 'severe' features, and they were trying to make him more approachable to the audience. The short version was he had to sit in a flimsy folding chair while a rotund middle aged woman scrutinized—and found fault with—nearly every aspect of his face and sought to paint over it.

He glanced at the clock on the wall. Only ten thirty in the morning. Iorich had left their bedroom after midnight and he and Autumn had collapsed into an exhausted sleep. Morning had come far too early for either of their tastes, but the shower had been a bright spot. Not only did it feature a massaging head with numerous settings, he and his wife had engaged in some sport while being sluiced clean.

He looked over to the hotel restaurant, which had been converted into a sound stage. Autumn was in there right now, recording her interview for the show. Soon it would be his turn, if they ever finished caking makeup on his face.

"Stop scowling," said the woman, gripping his chin and centering his head with an unkind jerk of her wrist.

"Sorry." Steve stifled a sigh. He had to notice that none of the other men received as much attention as he did, with their perfect cheekbones and rows of absolutely symmetrical teeth. Cody, at least, needed a layer of foundation. His orange skin was apparently interfering with the lighting.

Though he knew the interview would likely be a huge pain, he was dreading the afternoon even more. The producers hoped to film the first competition today, which would involve some sort of obstacle course. It wasn't that he was worried about the other competitors, as he was clearly the most athletic of them all.

In fact it was his knowledge of Genki Goro and the Japanese television industry in general. Images of people being rolled over by giant faux boulders so they cold have the privilege of being covered in bees raced through his mind.

Thinking of Genki, Steve found it strange that he had yet to lay eyes on the colorful host. Probably that would be remedied this afternoon.

Wonder how he knows Jiro.

Then an assistant to Iorich came out of the restaurant and barked out his name. The actual interview didn't take as long as he thought it would. Mostly, he answered the same questions posed in different ways. They wanted multiple takes so the director could choose which one best 'told the story' of the competition. They also filmed him speaking about how disappointed he was to lose the contest and how sorry he and Autumn would not be there to finish it. When he commented on the seeming prophecy, he was informed that all of the contestants were filming their 'good bye' interviews at the same time as their 'hello' ones.

That was to be expected. After all, they were going to film a show in one week that would be dribbled out to fill twelve episodes. Still, he found the proceedings far, far more contrived than wrestling.

His rumbling belly was eager for lunch as the crew took a break from filming. He smiled at Iorich as he passed by she only cooly nodded at him. Spotting Autumn coming out of the lobby bathroom, he joined up with her.

"Hey, beautiful." She turned her head and accepted his kiss on her lips.

"Hey, yourself. How'd the interview go?"

"Slow. Kept making me answer the same questions different ways."

"I know. Did they ask you if you were comfortable with your body?"

"What? No."

"Yeah, that's what I figured. Near as I can tell the men are going to participate in some physical challenges, while the women are supposed to put on skimpy outfits and look hot."

"Well, it is reality TV."

"I'm not complaining. MY ass isn't going to shimmy along a skinny pole hanging twenty feet over mucky water."

Steve nodded, remembering her swollen hands. It was for the best if he handled the rough stuff.

"Have you been able to get a good look at the obstacles?"

"Huh-uh. They've been keeping us busy."

They went back to the second floor, which seemed to be where all their meals would be laid out. Steve munched on some barbeque ribs that were slightly too sweet for his taste and a full plate of green beans. Autumn hated ribs of all kinds and went with fried chicken instead. He tried one of her drumsticks, found it to have a yellow cornmeal batter that added a bit of tang.

Lunch went by too quickly, and soon they were being prepped for the first challenge. Apparently, Genki Goro would not be gracing them with his company today. He would not be present until the third day, which was when they were scheduled to film the opening. It seemed weird to have half the competition before they did the introductions. Then again, when they put it together in post production that would probably be fixed.

The men were separated from the women and practically assaulted by the wardrobe team. The athletic gear that Steve had brought from home was not up to snuff, as it made his butt look 'flat.' According to the wardrobe department, he had something called low buttocks. Severe features and a little kid's butt. This show was doing wonders for his self esteem.

Eventually they dressed him in a pair of semi-baggy navy blue shorts. There was a matching tank top as well, but when Steve stripped out of his own shirt they were so impressed with his musculature that they insisted he go shirtless. Vinnie claimed to have more definition than Steve, and tried to go shirtless as well, but he was denied.

Steve followed the other men out the back door of the inn and got his first good look at the obstacles they would face. From where he was, a climbing wall loomed over their heads, casting its shadow over the air mats spread at its base. When Steve tried to walk around the side to see the rest of the course, he was ordered back in line by someone in a headset he had never seen. Shrugging, he rejoined the others and waited patiently.

After a while Iorich showed up to give them their instructions. They followed her on a tour of the course, cameras filming their every move. After the climbing wall there was a balance beam that seemed so wide it wouldn't be a challenge for even a clumsy child. It stretched over a pool of water so chlorinated it stung his nostrils. Beyond the balance beam was a raised path that zigzagged through a field of mud. Long-armed rotating x-shapes with meager padding spun slowly—so slowly it was hard to fathom how they could possibly trip over them. The last challenge was a rope swing over another pool of water.

Steve felt his confidence building. None of the obstacles looked the least bit difficult, and he was willing to bet he was not only bigger and stronger than the other men, but faster as well.

They returned to the starting line and conducted more interviews. Steve couldn't think of anything witty to say, but they let him off the hook after only two takes. He had to roll his eyes at what some of the others were saying, obviously playing to an audience that was yet to materialize.

After their interviews were done, Iorich read from a cue card. It was the same speech that Genki Goro would be filming later, but they were taping the men's reactions to it now. The director made Steve stop smiling and act grimmer and more determined. All of the pretending to be what he was not was getting seriously old.

He didn't have to fake his surprise at the final caveat, however. It turned out that each of the men would be blindfolded while they ran the course. Steve exchanged worried, baffled stares with his fellows.

"How are we supposed to NOT break our necks doing this?" said Vinnie, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to stand a bit in front of Steve.

"That's the twist." Iorich showed them a headset. "Your spouses will be watching from the sidelines, giving you direction."

She gestured toward a curtained area parallel to the course. Dramatically, it dropped away with a puff of smoke to reveal the women. They were all dressed in skimpy gym gear that was color co-ordinated to the men's outfits. Autumn's tiny top showed a great expanse of cleavage, and was so tight her piercings showed through even at a distance. And her navy blue shorts...he was afraid that they were going to disappear up her rear. Then there was the camel toe...

The other women were showing just as much skin, but that didn't rankle Steve. All he knew was that his wife was up there, showing off her goods to what would be a world wide audience.

Steve arched an eyebrow as Junko Tsukake was led to the front of the stage. Her husband patted Iorich on the arm, alarm spreading on his handsome face.

"What are they doing to her?"

Junko was directed to sit down on a wooden chair. Two men moved around, strapping her wrists and ankles to the frame. Steve noted that her bare feet were thrust towards the edge of the stage.

"Just another level of challenge," said Iorich with a reassuring smile "your wives will be tickled while you're running the course."

"How are they supposed to talk to us when they're too busy laughing?" said Byron.

"I did say it was a challenge." Iorich merely shrugged at their shared incredulity. Steve remembered the Japanese version of the show called Couple Cleaver.

They want us to get mad at each other. Everything's going to be like this, trying to put as at odds with our spouses.