Under the Wild Wyoming Skies

My first few classes went well. I was about as nervous as the kids. It would be during the next several weeks that the students and I would begin to press each other's boundaries. What we said and did before either of us reacted would be determined before the first quarter was done.

The first class after lunch, I got tested again. This group of kids seemed to be a bit more aggressive. There were the usual catcalls and wads of paper being tossed about. With my back to the class, I was writing on the blackboard when I smelled cigarettes. I turned and one seat up from the back row, a curly haired kid was smoking. I walked back.

"Put that out."

He smiled at me with a shit-eating grin and looked around the room. "Not until I'm done."

I snatched the cigarette out from his lips, tossed it on the floor then twisted it out with my foot. "You're done now." I turned and headed back to the front of the class. I heard a gasp from someone, and when I turned back around, he had lit up another smoke.

"I said I wasn't done."

This time, I didn't try to take the cigarette out of his mouth. I kicked his desk as hard as I could and it tipped over taking him down with it. I yanked him off the floor and then dragged him to the front of the room. He took a swing, and I stepped back as his fist flew by. It was mine turn. I grabbed his shoulder and twisted his arm behind his back. I smashed his face into the blackboard.

"Listen! When I tell you to put a cigarette out, you do as I say. You got that?" I let go of him. "Get back to your desk."

He wiped his face with the back of his arm. I turned back to the black board when I heard that unmistakable sound of a switchblade as it flew open.

"Nobody! Nobody makes a fool of Vincent Cookson!"

So we meet. The guys at the barbershop were right. He was the student holding the knife. Several students near the front scattered from their desks. It got quiet. Deadly quiet.

"Put that down before somebody gets hurt."

"Yeah, like maybe you!"

I was no angel, and I had been in my share of knife fights. There is one rule in a knife fight, and that rule says there are no rules. We sized each other up. I kept moving, a moving target is harder to hit. He tossed the knife from one hand to the other; it was a bad move on his part. He'd been watching too many action movies. It took time for the blade to switch hands. He was right handed, because he was favoring that side. The knife was in his left hand. I didn't want to try then. Wait for the moment.

My eyes watched as the knife leaped from his right hand, and just as he opened his left fist, I landed a size ten and a half between his legs. The knife hit the floor and a student picked it up. Vin bent over, God that had to hurt. I got behind him and pushed him onto the floor then I placed my knee on the center of his back.

"I'll get you, you fucker!" Vin shouted.

"Take a number and get in line. I've dealt with your kind before."

About this time Principal Myers rushed into the room. Apparently, someone ran and told her what was going on in my classroom.

"He pulled a knife on Mister Abbey," a girl said that I didn't know.

"Vin, why?" Principal Myers asked.

"I don't like him."

She shook her head. "The sheriff will be here soon. Vin, you knew this was your last chance didn't you?"

"Fuck you and this school."

Ten minutes later, a sheriff deputy entered the room. "He's all yours," she said and turned her back as the deputy placed handcuffs on Vincent Cookson. We watched as he was led away.

*********Chapter Eight**********

Several weeks had gone by since that incident with Vin, and during those weeks, Diana and I had kind of fallen into our own routines.

It sure was good having Diana home with me. Yet at the same time I struggled with the idea that perhaps I made a mistake coming here in the first place. Maybe I should have spread Lexi's ashes and headed back to New York where I belonged. It was a thought that I can't seem to get out of my head.

Diana was a strange woman. We had been playing house, and I have yet to see her naked. It was damn odd. She would always come up with an excuse about it. It was as if she was ashamed of her body. I had tried to start a conversation about it, but nothing ever seemed to work. Although we hadn't had sex yet. I think we both enjoyed holding our bodies close to each other. I just wished it wasn't in the dark all the time. I knew deep down inside that Diana would sure like for me to fuck her. Sad thing was so would I.

It was early evening, we were outside stretching barbwire. It was hard work, and she and I had been at it most of the day. Twilight was settling in around us. We took a break from the labor, and I leaned on a fencepost and looked at the mountains in the distance. She placed her hand on my shoulder.

"You still miss her don't you?"

"I guess so. A little. I miss the city. The people. The crowds. Have you ever been to New York City?"

"No, and I have no desire to go, either."

"It's something to see. You can do about anything you want at any time of the day or night. I used to love watching the people go from here to there. The women would be dressed to kill wearing thousand buck a copy Christian Lauboutin high heels with a Hermes Togo handbag in their hands. And the men with their power suits that cost more than six months of teacher's wages trying to score another ten million dollar deal."

"You'll die before you see those things around here."

"I know. I do like that expensive business attire look that the women wore on Wall Street. They're even more ballsy than the men when it comes to making money." I looked at Diana and said, "The cowgirl look is nice, too."

She hooked her arm though mine. "I don't know what Christian Lauboutins are." She pointed to the mountains where the fading sun had turned the peaks the color of maple leaves in the fall.

"Those are my skyscrapers. Try and top those."

I placed my hands on her shoulders. "I didn't mean it the way it came out. Diana, I don't know if I'm going to stay here in Wyoming. There are things that beckon me back East."

"Like what?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe I'm homesick."

"Look around. The air is clean. All this land is yours. What did you have in New York? An apartment high up in an old building you could barely afford? Friends that only came around when they wanted something from you?"

"There's more than that. I'm not sure what or how to tell you," I said.

"I'm here. Aren't I your girlfriend? I was born here in Wyoming. This is my home. What more could you possibly want?" Diana put her tools down and turned and started to walk away. She looked back. "Wait for me on the porch."

***********

There was a chill in the early autumn air and I rubbed my hands together. She told me to wait for her and wait is what I did. My watch told me that I'd been in waiting mode for the lee side of fifty minutes. The front door opened and closed, but not with the usual slamming to which I'd grown accustomed. The wooden floor of the porch creaked and groaned from footfalls. There was a unique sound that I'd heard thousands of times before, yet my mind struggled to conjure what it could be. It seemed so out of place. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something moving. It was Diana. She walked slowly toward me, the sound was that of her shoes tapping along the wood planks. She stopped and took my hand into hers. The yellow glow from a bug bulb tinted her red hair orange. Diana wore a floral dress that came down about an inch above her knees. She wore shoes that would be a stretch to call high heels.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She wouldn't look at me and instead stared at the floor. Her right shoe toyed with a splinter on the porch. "You said you didn't know if you were going to stay here in Wyoming 'cause you missed watching the ladies come and go with their fancy clothing, designer shoes, and expensive jewelry." The corners of her eyes held small crystals of tears when she looked at me.

"Your cover girl Alexandria wouldn't have stayed here. She would have left you and went back to the city. It was in her DNA."

"What's that got to do with you and me? And why are you wearing a dress out on the porch?"

"Don't you like it?"

"Of course I do. You look great. I don't understand?"

"Please, I don't want you to go. I can be just as much if not more of a woman than your Alexandria ever was. I have dresses, too, and while they might not be as expensive as hers, I..."

She wrapped her hands around my neck and kissed me. The aroma of her perfume filled the evening air.

"Does she kiss you like I do? Does it feel the same when I'm in your arms? Am I not as soft and warm as her?"

I placed my hands on her shoulders. "No one, and especially not me, ever said you weren't a woman, and besides, the decision is mine. It's not up to you."

"I wanted you to see that I could be as glamorous as her." She slammed her fist down on the porch railing. "Damn it! How am I supposed to compete with a dead girlfriend?"

Diana placed my hand on her breast. "You need to make a decision. You need to ask yourself if the memories of a lost lover are more important in your life than a willing and able warm blooded woman that's asking you right now to stay with her."

"Diana, you don't understand."

"I understand it all. I understand it perfectly. It's like a game of Rorschach... If you think you see it, it's there. You're still in love with a dead woman."

She lifted the left side of her dress up to her waist. "Thirty bucks at Target." Then she moved her right foot back and forth as she pinched a finger full of her hose. "Payless shoes and drugstore pantyhose. I don't have expensive things to wear, but right now, right here, I will do anything you want me to do."

"Listen," I began, "You look fantastic, you truly do." I held her hands together, then I pulled her in and wrapped my arms around her tiny waist. "Ah, Diana... I'm so confused. Come back with me to the city?"

"I can't." She turned and looked out toward the mountains. "How can those people in New York City call themselves rich if they've never seen an eagle fly?"

We held each other without saying a word for what seemed like hours. Maybe Diana was right. I had been chasing a dream that died with Alexandria. Knowing what the boys at the barbershop had told me, God, that had to take everything she had to wear a dress tonight.

I looked into the sky and those snow covered mountains in the distance. Her body was warm and the dress felt like silk as my fingers moved along the curve of her spine. Her red hair still lingered with the aroma of the shampoo.

"Come with me," I said as I tugged her toward the front door.

I smiled at her, then pulled the screen door shut and locked the front door. I led her over to the living room and stood her in the middle. "Don't move a muscle." I turned on every light in the house. God, please keep the power on for the next few hours. I tugged one of our chairs out from the kitchen and placed it in front of Diana and then I sat down.

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

I grinned back, and reveled in the tension that had grown across her face. I could tell she wanted in the worst way to run away.

"I meant what I said outside." Her voice was a soft as a wind chime in a summer breeze. She looked at the floor.

I leaned back into the chair and locked my fingers together behind my head.

"Strip."

"You want me to do what? With all these lights on?"

All the time we've been in bed, I've had yet to see Diana naked. She'd always had an excuse, always had something around her body. Get her in the dark, and we were like teenagers necking out in a car. It was like being around a vampire, afraid of the light. She stood there with this stupid look on her face.

"Hearing problems tonight? How long have we been playing you touch mine and I'll touch yours? I'd like to see your body."

"Can't we turn the lights off? Then I'll undress for you."

"How long have we been together?" I asked.

"A month or so."

"And I've never seen your breasts."

She looked all the world like her entire life came crashing down on her.

"Strip."

Diana didn't move. I watched as her body went limp. She reached behind her head and began to work on the hook of the dress. Without saying a word, she slipped the dress out from her arms, and it dropped down to her waist. A gentle tug or two and it pooled unceremoniously around her shoes.

"Step out of it..."

Diana went to pick it up from the floor when I said, "Leave it there."

Under that dress was a beige full slip. Her hands ran across the front of her slip. Diana's seemed to shake a bit.

A spaghetti strap slipped down her shoulder. Diana's eyes were locked on mine. Her face flushed and caused her skin to turn the same shade of red as her hair. A few more tugs and the slip fell to the floor.

With her hands behind her back and her fingers resting on the clasp of her bra she asked, "Can't we do this the dark?"

"No."

Diana pulled in a long deep breath, and slowly lowered her bra from her body. Instantly she covered her left breast with her hand. Diana lowered her head.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Little-by-little she lowered her hand. For the first time since we met, I saw her breasts, and I knew now why she always wanted the lights off.

*********Chapter Nine********

There are few things that surprise me, but the sight of her left breast was a shock, and I struggled to come up with words she hadn't heard before. I went over to her, as Diana covered her left breast again, and I pulled her hand away. "It's fine."

"No it's not," she replied.

Diana was down to her shoes and a pair of dark coffee brown pantyhose that seemed to have an extra thick layer of stitching that came down two or three inches above her knees. It looked all the world like some kind of girdle or body shaping pantyhose. Diana certainly didn't have a body that needed help. Maybe that was all she could find in the store. There wasn't a Macys for five hundred miles.

"Everything comes off," I said as I returned to my chair.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you."

She reached down and lowered her hose to her shoes. The reason for the thick control top surfaced. I went over and lifted her off the floor and placed her on the chair. I wrestled with her shoes and relieved her of her hose and panties. I put her shoes back on and helped her stand. I returned to my chair and looked at the now nude Diana that stood before me.

"Are you happy?" She asked.

"Yes, I can understand."

"No you can't. How could you? I don't look like your dead model girlfriend in the nude."

All this time, Diana had hidden from me were two birthmarks. They're call wine stains named after the red wine color of the skin. She had one birthmark that covered her entire left breast. It looked as though you hit your thumb with a hammer and it turned red and purple. That's the color of her left breast. The entire breast, including the nipple, was wine red.

There was a reason for the thick control top hose, too. From her crotch to within three or so inches on her knee on her right leg was yet another birthmark. This one wasn't as deep red as the one on her left breast, but it was as wide as my palm. It looked for all the world like someone ran over her with a car and left a tire track impression on her thigh.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She covered her breast. "'Cause you would have laughed and ran from me. "

"You don't know what I'm thinking."

"Every man I've been with has made fun of me."

"I'm not every man."

She lowered her hand. "Do they hurt?" I asked.

"No, not in the least. I was born with these. My high school gym classes where hell, then came college and God, the torment I went through." She shook her head.

"Walk around the room for me?"

"Here? Why?"

"Diana, you're an attractive woman. Any red-blooded guy would love to see you like this."

I wasn't making that up. I'd been with plenty of women in my short time on this planet, and I'd been with girls that had tits the size of basketballs, and some that had boobs that looked like mosquito bites. Diana's breasts were a little on the small size, but larger than Alexandria's breasts. They're about the size of Macintosh Apples, with her left breast almost the same color. They kind of turned upward and each one had a nipple that looked so damn kissable.

Speaking of color, 'ol Homer would be interested to know that Diana's red hair didn't come from a box of Clairol.

All that physical labor she did had toned her body in all the right places. Yet, I'd bet it had been decades since she'd been out in the sun. There wasn't a hint of a tan line anywhere, and her body appeared to be as white as whitewash. If she wore the dresses like the boys at the barbershop said, she had to wear stockings or hose. My mind wondered off for a second as I recounted the story Walter said about Boyd being done in with a stocking.

She moved slowly about the room, Diana walked toward me and touched my shoulder and then walked back toward the windows, letting me watch her tight little ass as it wiggled with every step she took in her not so high, high heels. Even though Diana wasn't that tall, the short high heels she wore made the calves of both legs bulge out a bit. And when she walked away from me, Christ that red hair and tight ass— whoa—Jesus, what a sight.

When she returned to face me , she raised her foot up a bit and twisted it to and fro.

"Not exactly stilettos are they?" Diana asked.

"I like what you have on." I almost asked her if she would slip a pair of stockings on. I like seeing women in stockings, and not much else. Then I thought this is Wyoming and not New York. Women don't wear stocking out here. It's too bad. It was another reason why I might not stay there. Also, I guess in a way I wanted to see if she owned some, if she did, well... did Boyd get to see them, too?

"Just me and my shoes?"

She moved to one side of the room, turned and as she did, she flipped her hair over her left shoulder.

"As I had said before, what's good for the goose..." I began to undress and soon I was down to nothing but my socks. "Here, the full Monty."

Except for some shoes and socks, the two of us were as naked as the day we were born, and it seemed, at least to me, that a heavy burden had lifted from Diana's shoulders. She appeared more at ease, even though she was bare ass naked. Diana stood beside the end of the sofa, and gently teased the stitching on the arm.

"I suppose Alexandria did this for you?"

"Did what?"

"Walk around your apartment in the nude."

I went over to Diana and sat. I patted the cushion. "Come sit beside me."

She sat and crossed her legs in such a way as to hide the birthmark on her right thigh. I put my hand on her knee and pulled her leg back over.

"Yes, Alexandria walked about our place in the nude all the time. She told me more than once that us Americans had a hang up with nudity. As a matter of fact, it was hard to keep her clothing on. And you know what? I longed for the times when she dressed up. To me it was much more sexy seeing her with some clothing on than completely nude. You have exquisite legs you know that?"

"If you say so. I've never had a guy tell me that." She leaned back into the sofa lifting her feet off the ground. She tapped her shoes together.

We sat there for several minutes. Every time Diana would try and cover either her breast or her thigh, I'd move her hand away. I had no way of knowing, but I got the feeling that this was the first time Diana let any man see her in the nude with the lights on, for a very long, long, time.

What a pair we made. I can't make love to a woman and Diana hid in the dark.

"Let me tell you about Alexandria. Alexandria Vandershoot didn't wake up in the morning looking like Alexandria Vandershoot. That cover girl look took hours to produce. She had the perfect face, but the rest of her body, not so much. Did you ever see photographs of her in a swimsuit?"