The Ninth Caller Ch. 02

The clicking was ravaging through his brain as the music started. Her name is Rio and she dances on the sand..., just like a river twisting through a dusty land...

Tim and the other customers all turned to the stage. From behind the curtain, Tammy strode out confidently. She was fierce, her eyes flashing, her long blonde hair flowing behind her from the air conditioning vent blowing right over her head. She was Venus come to life.

She had not bothered getting redressed. She wouldn't need to, and as she walked forward, dragging a small inflatable pool behind her, a cheer rang out. Everyone knew what this meant. Plopping the pool down with a big wet splat right in front of Tim, she crawled inside.

She was nearly naked, this was Kentucky after all, and completely nude dancing was forbidden. But, she might as well have been completely bare. The tiny purple pasties barely covered her nipples, which were very hard and looked like they might toss off their stick-on accoutrements at any moment. Darla had given Tammy some pointers backstage, and one of those had been how to tease and stroke her own nipples into a frenzy. This not only got them very stiff, which the guys all liked, but also was meant to get herself as horny as possible. Nothing is sexier to a man than a woman who is wet, and her tiny white G-String already was soaked with her own juices before the set started. She was sure they would be fully saturated by the end.

Kneeling down into the pool, her eyes bore into Tim's. She winced, but kept focused. His pupils were yellow, YELLOW. What the fuck is that? It didn't matter though, at that moment, to her he was fucking Brad Pitt.

She popped the champagne cork, and giggled as it flew into the audience, the guys all scrambling to catch it like it was a foul ball at a Cincinnati Reds game. She paid them no attention, even the cutie who she had been grinding her tits on earlier who dove on the ground for it. She only had eyes for one man now, and that was the old man in front of her: yellow eyed, pasty, skeletal, death warmed over Tim.

Spreading her legs wide, she threw her head back in ecstasy as she shook the champagne bottle with her left hand. It was hard to keep her thumb inside, as the pressure built and built, and eventually, she let loose. A shower of cool, fizzing, pink champagne erupted into the air like a fountain and cascaded down over her luscious heavy hanging breasts. The feel of the cold bubbles running down her stomach felt like sizzling rain hitting a hot stretch of highway on a summer day. It was electric. Her pussy gushed as the champagne finished wetting what her own honey had started. Now her pubic bone and full, delectable vulva were clearly visible in her nearly transparent white G-String.

She looked up and saw Tim smile. It caused her to shudder, but still, amazingly made her even wetter. No man had ever looked at her with such intense lust before. His lips slowly curled up over his yellow and black teeth, stained by decades of coffee and tobacco. His pupils dilated fully as she could see his eyes were ravishing her body. What was he thinking now? Was he imagining that old dried up cock of his slamming into her fresh, young pussy? She saw his nostrils flare. Could he smell her? Could he smell her arousal? She could, as she was wetter than she had ever been in her life.

In one slow, continuous motion, Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out a fresh 100-dollar bill. He leaned forward, sweeping it back and forth in the air like a Matador with his cape. Tammy licked her lips, reached out with her foot and gripped the bill with her big toe. She brought it back to her chest and grabbed it with her hand, flicking each of her nipples with the corner. She moaned loudly, as she pulled her G-String out tight, and placed the crisp bill down her panties and in between her pussy lips. It felt so fucking dirty and wrong, she came instantly, and barked out a little gasp.

The other guys watching erupted in shouts and cheers. As her vision cleared and her eyes stopped crossing, her body shuddered. She glanced out into the audience and could see every guy there fully tenting their pants. She beamed in pride. She had done this. She had created this masterpiece of hard-ons. She had constructed this forest of woodies. She and she alone.

Tim said nothing, but leaned forward, his whole body looking like a spring that was tightening and tightening, winding and winding, the tension growing. Was that old fucker going to cream his pants? She could see his Khakis were tight. God, what a rush that would be!

Tammy licked her lips again, and winked as she took the champagne bottle again and shook it. It still had a little left, and she stretched her foot out and dangled it right in front of Tim's face. She could feel his hot breath passing over her wet toes, and it excited her. When he closed his eyes, and opened his mouth, she poured the bottle onto her leg, and watched as the remaining pink champagne traveled down her foot onto Tim's eagerly waiting tongue. She laughed as he started to suckle.

"Holy Shit!" Darla said to one of the other strippers as she watched from backstage. "That girl is a fucking natural! I am as proud as a mother hen!"

For the rest of the night, Tim was the star attraction for the dancers. Car payments would be made, credit cards paid up, landlords satisfied; it was a great night for all. Now 3 AM, Darla was walking with Tammy across the empty parking lot, the last of the customers having left over an hour earlier.

"So, how much did you make?" Darla said.

"Let's just say this," Tammy said. "I won't be walking next week!"

"Or tonight for that matter, now come on, let me give you a ride home. It isn't safe for a pretty girl like you to be wandering around in the middle of the night. Especially if you are holding so much cash."

"Don't worry about it, MOM," Tammy said jokingly. "I just live right around the corner, and I actually feel like walking tonight. I will be fine. The moon is out and I can see, and it is so fucking hot in my apartment. It is nice to stroll a bit in the breeze, you know."

"Yeah, well, I don't know about that. You really should come with—"

"Go home, Darla," Tammy said. "It is cute you are worried about me, but I will be just fine." She spun around and wiggled her ass, as she added, "you know, I have to get my steps in to keep this in shape. I don't belong to a gym, so walking is my exercise."

"Alright," Darla said, "but be careful."

"I will," Tammy said. "I will see you this weekend. I have a couple of days off, and I am going to just chill out."

"You earned it, bee-yotch," Darla laughed as she got into her car and drove away.

*****

Tim's eyes fluttered open and he took a deep breath as he woke up. The sun was bright, streaming into his bedroom at full blast through a ten-foot picture window in his bedroom. As he realized he was awake, he smiled. Fucking finally! I finally got to sleep! It worked! The system worked!

He yawned as he sat up in his bed. His bedroom was enormous, just like the rest of his house. All high ceilings and warm wood, and the view out of his window was as spectacular as the interior. Tim lived way the hell out in the middle of nowhere, just like he liked it. He picked the spot to build on thirty years earlier, for just such a reason. The mountains of rural Kentucky were a gorgeous sight to wake up to, and as Tim focused on the shadows on the slopes, he smirked. What the hell time is it?

He swung his legs out over his bed, and was shocked that his joints were quiet. Normally he sounded like a bowl of Rice Krispy's just saturated with milk when he moved. Not today. Today he was completely refreshed, and for the first time in a long time, nothing on his body hurt. He spied his cellphone on his nightstand, and he could not help but want to make a call, even if it was to gloat. When he picked it up, and saw the time, 4:30 PM, he laughed.

Holy fuck did I sleep deep!

He pressed his contact list and chose - Sponsor - Addicts Anonymous, and dialed.

"Steve..., this is Tim."

"Are you OK? Did you fall off the wagon?" Steve said.

"No, I am OK. I really am. I got close though, and I played with fire, but I resisted. I think my system will work, even though you said it wouldn't."

"Remember Tim, you need to avoid all temptation. Take me, for example. As an alcoholic, I never go anyplace I know there will be liquor served."

"But the clicking Steve, that fucking—"

"—I know, I know, but..., well, the important thing is you resisted, right?"

"I did. I think I may have the system down now. I know you don't approve of skating near the edge, but, if it works for me, hey? Why not? Something had to give, it had to give! I can live with this."

"You are playing with fire Tim, but..., you going to be at the meeting next Wednesday night? Let's talk more about it on next Wednesday."

"Never miss it. I am 400 days in, you know."

"Yeah, but, don't blow it. Don't go where there is liquor, or, whatever the hell it is you are addicted to, Tim."

"I know, I know," Tim said as he sighed. "You are a good sponsor, see you next Wednesday."

"See you next Wednesday."

Tim smiled and stood up. He knew he was taking a risk last night, but, as he paused, and he felt his gears all lubricated and humming normally, and his brain mercifully free from clicking, he knew he had to do something, and that something worked. Steve was an alcoholic. He didn't completely understand. He breathed in deeply and caught a whiff of himself. He was rank.

Well, even though it is afternoon, I guess I should shower. I smell like a dead possum.

Whistling as he strolled into his bathroom, as he turned the corner and entered, he stopped.

"Damn it! Just my luck! I fucking knew it was too good to be true."

Tim sighed, as he looked down and shook his head. There, all over the white marble tile was a huge pool of dark blood. It was everywhere. It was on the walls and the ceiling and the sink, like a bomb went off inside a live pig. The thick coppery smell hung heavy in the air, and he frowned when he glanced over to the tub. He was afraid of what he would see. His face dropped when he saw the lifeless gaze of Tammy staring up at him from the tub, her head laying neatly on her chest as her arms and legs were stacked like Lincoln logs on her stomach.

"Fuck it, but I guess Steve was right. I just have to avoid all temptation now. I guess I got too close to that edge like he said," Tim sighed. He shook his head again before he turned and walked down the hall and out his back door. Reaching his barn, he yanked the dusty blue tarp off of the machine, and pulled on the cord. The silence of the rural late afternoon was shattered by the grinding sound of the woodchipper firing up.