

A Romance Hero Speaks Out

 Well...anyway, he speaks.

Bernard P. Bonhimmer

©2013 by Cowboy Publishing

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

© Copyright 2013 by Cowboy Publishing
Chapter One

Jared Attempts an Introduction

In the beginning, let me just take a moment and say most writers are arrogant folk. Whether the story is based on fact or fiction, they always insist on telling it from their point of view. So needless to say I, as a professional romantic hero, had _one hell of a time_ , finding a writer that would at least write a few things from _the_ _real_ point of view.

As we all very well know, the writer gets all the credit of course, but the _true_ point of view, at least in this story, is the view of the hero himself. I mean everyone knows or _should_ know, the hero is the one out there _busting_ his well chiseled ass to get it done, while the writer sips tea from an easy chair.

Well, as any hero can tell you, we at least _hope_ their sipping tea. However.... if you find yourself fighting off twenty skilled swordsmen with a damn hickory switch, then you can _bet_ your carved by the gods ass, that a little Jack Daniels is probably in the mix.

Yes sir re. Have another drink. The hero can handle it!

Okay, here we go already. Bless his heart, but my hack writer's _already_ complaining.

Just so you know early on, if complaining should ever become an Olympic sport, he will easily bring home the gold. In fact, his moaning and complaining about every little thing, is why I had to break the story up into two parts.

I tell you what folks; it took eight or ten chapters just to tell a little bit on how I came to be. I reckon I'm a pretty big deal and all that, but...

................Well, sometimes I can get a little _talkative_ myself, but I think _anyone_ needs time to illuminate their talents a little. Well, a lot...but after all this _is_ my story.

I mean what can I say? I have been around for a century and a half so I've learned _stuff_. Plus, a few readers had to kick in their two cents worth as well.

Yeah, well, those sweet _little_ readers. What can I say?

I like readers and all...but....

Just so you know....The whole reader _input_ ideal belongs to our great writer. Like I said, I like readers and all that. I guess I will also have to admit, their imagination is what keeps me real and all.... In all honesty though, I usually don't deal with all that many male readers. Well on occasions, one will be out there pretending he's like me, when he turns on the charm for the lady folk. A few others might want to show me their truck or something.

......However, when a female reader calls me in...well... _input_ on a book is _not_ what's on _her_ mind.

_Easy now_ , don't think for one second, they don't have a lot of great thoughts and ideals. Oh yeah, they can be _very_ creative. It's just that... that... well; _truthfully_ ....they don't want a lot of that stuff _written down_.

I mean anyone can understand that.

Although, I reckon saying anyone was a stretch. But just so you know. I tried to explain all that to our little writer...but he don't....

_Anyway_ , I reckon he figures all that to be small potatoes, since his _big_ worry of the moment seems to be gender correctness, and he is saying, in _any_ romance story, heroines have an important point of view as well.

See what I mean here folks? Just a few paragraphs done my way and he's already yapping.

In order to calm him a little, I will say the heroine thing is true. I know they play just as an important of a role as me, the hero. Also, I reckon any good hero needs someone out there, bitching and a moaning, while trying their dead level best, to get his expertly carved buttocks _killed_.

I mean if there is danger anywhere about, trust me a heroine will find it.

Well, I don't have to tell you a damn thing about heroines. If you can read or flip on a television, you know _exactly_ how they are. I mean they are _just always....._

All and all though, I reckon that gives the Hero something to do, when she somehow ends up smack in the middle of _four hundred_ hungry cannibals.

However, all is well that ends well, I reckon. I mean everyone knows, after the courageous hero dodges all the spears and poison arrows to save her sweet little self, things rapidly change. Her moaning is still there of course but the bitching is soon replaced with the _soft sig_ hs of afterglow.

Mercy, you folks know how all that works. Probably been in the same situation yourself.

Well, for you reader folks, I know you probably moan a lot but you would _never_ bitch at anyone. The spears and poison arrows might also be a stretch, since I figure that's pretty much hero stuff all the way. I was simply referring to the sighs and afterglow, which is pretty easy stuff.

Well hell, I reckon, writers and heroines will be my complaint for another day, but fairness has prevailed. So hopefully we can get back to _my_ story.

He is still griping it up, but this little story _is_ all about _me_ trying to say a few things. Besides, the glowing little heroine can just write her _own_ damned book. In all honesty folks, I know how important the heroine is. I mean after all, what's the point of it all, if you don't win over the little honey in the end. I just like to see how big the vein, on writer man's forehead, will get before it pops.

Don't get me wrong. I am not _even_ saying or suggesting, the little heroines can't be a pain in my well-defined buttocks. No sir re.....I mean you know how they ar......

............For heaven sakes. Now he fears, I made a much too broad of a generalization on _afterglow._ He says some females and even a _few_ male readers may feel slighted. He even says some could become upset from worry, as to why they don't experience afterglow, since it's _supposed_ to be so damn easy.

.....I don't _even_ know what to say about all that. I intended the _easy_ remark for the lady folk, but I guess male readers can glow all they want. I suppose any and all others; can just delete the word afterglow from their mind. Then, maybe..uh... replace it with, the soft snores of _sleep_.

.....Mercy, I wish he would just write down what I say. No one will _even_ care, that I didn't mention _cuddling_ in with the afterglow.

After all, it's not rocket science. I'm _simply_ trying to tell a damn _simple_ story here! Besides, I have no doubt whatsoever, that some blow hard writer, has already written about all that. Yes sir re, forty fool proof ways to improve a cuddle, and enhance afterglow.

Truth be told, they didn't/don't have the _foggiest..._ .......Some might be more likely to try and convince you, _that you_ can glow in the _dark_ though. I mean, in a writers world that's pretty simple and easy stuff too, don't cha know?

Yes sir....those writer folks just keep it coming.

Anyway, I first approached several big name writers, who had actually become successful writing about my various talents. However, when it came _payback_ time they hemmed and hawed, talked about prior commitments, deadlines and the like. Some even went so far as to tell me, _their_ muse was _lost_.

I must admit a few of them, even thought _their_ mind was _lost,_ when I explained who I was. To be honest though, some really didn't have _all that_ much to lose.

Hell, you folks read some of the crap they come up with....

Then as expected, even more of them thought _I_ had lost _my_ mind......... Well, _actually_ I _didn't_ _expect_ all that. After all, I am not the one sitting around, banging on a keyboard, while making up some off the wall scenario. Hell, I'm the one out there actually getting it done, all the while trying to make a little sense out of their _endless_ banging.

I mean... folks, you have _noooo idea_.

So all and all, the guy I ended up with is kind of a hack, but be patient folks. I reckon he does the best he can. I mean at the end of the day, what can you expect from someone named _Bernard P Bonhimmer_?

So there ya go, folks... It took a while, but I _actually spoke_ that name _out loud_.

I know. I know, you will probably shake your head. Then ask just what kind of a _crazy_ name is that. Yeah, I figured as much, since I did the same damn thing myself. Folks, to be completely honest, I thought he was just joking around when he introduced himself. However, when I detected no humor in his eyes...Well his glasses _are_ pretty thick, so it took a moment, but I finally surmised he was _heart attack_ serious.

Yes sir re. _Bernard P Bonhimmer, in the flesh._

Anyway, I _will_ tell you this much, if he were out here in the real dog eat dog world, like us hard working Heroes, he best not toss that name around too often. Well, at least not until he has confirmed everyone is sober and unarmed.

I suppose at _that_ point. If cuddling _was_ left out, it would be _down_ a notch or two on his worry list.

No really, I think he _has just such_ a list, and it's updated hourly. From the looks of things he may need to update it, even _more_ often until we get _this thing_ wrapped up.

Anyway, he is saying name bashing will be a crime in the near future, so I told him that was why I was getting it off my chest now. _Plus_ , I suspect a few readers, would have wanted me to say a little _something_ on their behalf.

Frankly folks, I don't think he has the first _clue_ about writing. He said his mother taught him all he knows about transcribing his " _articulate_ " thoughts. Although, I am not sure what kind of a _major endorsement_ he thinks that might be. She, after all, was the one that gazed upon her young son and declared, "His name shall be... _Bernard!_ "

Can you see my point there folks?

Yeah, I thought you would.

All I can tell you is, we will try and do the best we can with what we have. I know many of you deal with your own problems day in and day out. Well, it's a big world so it might be night in and night out for some folks. However, that's your little story not mine.

I guess to make Bernard smile; I better rephrase and say your _personal_ story. After all, I don't want to offend anyone, should they feel I started things off, by implying they were dealing with anything little.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot, but another thing that slowed progress a little, was the fact Bernard decided he was an _authority_ on what the _mortal_ lady folk like.

Yeah, he _actually_ told me that!

I suspect though, you can see how I might have been a little taken aback with that. I mean as you might guess, knowing what the ladies like is important stuff for any romance hero. Well...uh... all I can say, in response to such a remark, is that I've been around a long while...and done _a lot_ of in- _depth_ research on the matter. _Folks_ , I'm talking _very_ in depth stuff.....and I wouldn't _even_ _think_ of making such a bold...

..............Anyway, with all that said, I will try and get this show on the road.

Hello folks! I am just your average, _everyday_ romance hero. Well, I don't want to start out with attitude, but average could be understating things a little.

Anyway, my real name is Jared McCormack, but as you can guess I have answered to _many_ _others_ over the years. The names, as you might expect, are/were usually just good, run of the mill, alpha male names.

I stand around six foot two with my boots on. Well...I might add another inch to that, if I strut a little when my heroine looks really good. I mean you _can't_ be telling _her_ that shit. Well, at least not too damn often, or she will eventually cop an attitude.

Well, you know how all that works. Mirror, mirror on the wall....

Hey folks, trust me it can happen.

My hair is usually blonde with a few curls, and hangs to near shoulder length. Well, I say hangs, but most often it just waffles around up there. However, a finger brush back, along with the quick application of my hat, and I am good to go.

No sir re, none of that pretty boy primping for me. Well, I might touch up my mustache and goatee on occasions, but none of that _heavy duty_ stuff, which might involve wax or a _sudden yank._

I know I am a hero and all, but even you mortal folks _have to_ _know_ , that shits gonna hurt.... I am talking serious hurt.......

......Mercy, just _the thought_ of all that makes my _nuts_ tingle.

........Although, there _was_ this one heroine; well, she loved a little candle wax dripped...hey... _she_ was the _one_ doing the wiggling and squirming though.

Whoa, my writer says no one cares if some woman enjoyad the feel of hot wax, or how much she wiggled for that matter. He also said if some _men_ want to primp and look _pretty_ it's their right.

...................See how he is?

....... _I don't_ care, _one iota_ if men want to look pretty. Hell, a lot of them need to do _something_. Anyway, I just had a brief memory on the wax dripping thing. That is something I do often, but I wasn't planning on elaborating on all that. I mean anyone knows, as a good romantic hero, you just naturally encounter a lot of...of... _stuff_.

Like I said, heroines are _just always_ ....

Plus, my entire being _and_ vocabulary as well, is a compilation of things I've learned, while out busting my, hued from stone buttocks. Yes sir re. No formal education for me. All, of what I know is derived from _life stuff_. Therefore, that is why I have already asked for your patience in this story, all because I don't have some _esteemed_ _alma mater_ , in which to crow about, like some of the more _astute_ writers.

Well, actually folks.... I just threw in the last line so I could watch our little writer square his shoulders. But hell, we all know _astute_ and _writer_ in the same sentence....well, I believe ya all call that, an oxy...something or other.

Besides, my little writer learned all he knows from his momma. I guess that's why he knows so much about what women folk like.

Yeah...that's it. It has to be. I still can't believe he would...Shit, maybe he has some special talents that...

I haven't seen any yat, but I suspect any minute now, women will start trying to climb in the window. I reckon my big wonder of the moment should be, whether they will show up naked, or just strip when they get here.

Yes sir re.

Anyway, as you can likely presume, my work often takes me all over. However, when I need to kick back a little, you can usually find me _somewhere_ around Atlanta Ga.

Oh yeah, just so you know. ....... I use the word _somewhere_ , because the woman I was with went totally fuc...ballist.... a little pissed. Then _I_ in turn, became...uh... _mildly annoyad..._

Well, no sense talking about all that, everyone knows perfectly well how _all that_ shit works.

.......Looking back though, I'm not sure why _I'm_ _the one_ saying _I_ live _somewhere_. After all, _I am_ the one, who built the damn house with my own two hands. Well, with my _big manly_ hands.

Ah, what to hay. In all reality, I was away working a lot so someone else did most of the work. I just wanted to float the... the hand thing early on.

Yes sir re. A size 12 boot too.

I mean mortal men mention that kind of stuff...

....Well, writer man says all that don't matter none.

Oh... I guess the fact he's _the authority_ on all that, must have slipped my mind.

Yeah well...I can see he is wearing what looks to be a size seven or eight shoe, so _of course_ it doesn't matter.

Anyway, I'm simply trying to do a little character description here.....I know writers do that when they tell a story, so evidently it's nothing illegal.

He also says, he cleaned it up a little, but my description of a former lover getting _upset_ , was a _blatantly_ overdone.

I tell you what; I am not even sure what... _blatantly...._ means, but I tell you what, he seems to be scared shitless, when it comes to even a _mention_ of the women folks. I wouldn't think though, a professional lady's man would be so skittish....

......He says I'm not...sounding or being.... _female friendly_. I suspect that means...? .........Well hell... I _am_ friendly to the woman folks. Can you believe that? _Mercy sakes_! I'm a damn romantic hero!

He has _no_ idea of how _female friendly_ I can be. I suspect though, even if _he does_ think he has it all figured out. I believe some woman must have slapped him around......

..... Not, female friendly my ass...... I say again. Can you believe he even...I mean on occasion, I might act a _little_ reserved in the beginning of a story, but...

Anyway, he says I need to be kind since he figures all three of his readers, will probably be _of the_ feminine gender.

Feminine gender? I guess that's the same thing as the lady folks. Why to hell didn't he just say tha.....

... _.His r_ eaders?

................Whoa back now...

I can _already_ see, I need to _nip_ that shit in the bud right now, because this time around, _I'm_ the _one_ screwin... sitting astraddle of _this_ cow. Well, I _always_ am. It's just more the norm for me to be out in the middle of bum truck _nowhere_ , trying to settle down some mad as hell....... _mildly up set_ heroine.

Easy now...the cow thing...well, that _was just_ an expression folks. I have herded a few, even rode a bull or two...but...all I was trying to say was, this is _my_ little rodeo.

Mercy, before he starts to cry. Let me just say. I think the _lady folk_ are all sugar and spice and everything nice. Yeah, cotton candy and cherry coke too.

Whipped cream....chocolate cake...

I think that's enough sweetness lavished on the women folks. I guess they should be feeling pretty friendly about that.

However, a _big_ piece of strawberry cheesecake would go down _mighty easy_ right now. A good cup of coffee would be good too.

Easy Mr. Writer, I missed lunch and I like cheesecake. The other things, was just for telling _how_ sweet women are. I didn't _even_ mean, to make it sound like I was tempting them to eat all that.

Yes...I'm fully aware women like salad and carrot sticks.

........ Well, he can say what he wants about all that, but I've seen _a couple_ that could put a good sized dent in a bucket of chicken, then fight cha for the mashed taters.....

.........Folks, just hang with me for a moment. I think I need to let you know early on, why he evidently gets so panicky. With that in mind, let me briefly interrupt my introduction, so to give you a _small_ glimpse at what I am up against here.

Like I mentioned already, he insists I be fair about everything. _Sensitive_ was his word, I think. Well, that was one of about ten. I think gender _correctness_ was tossed round as well.

Yeah, we _already_ talked about, and hopefully put to rest the female friendly thing. Mercy sakes!

Oh, just in case you start to fear for his life at times. I will say up front, even though we will _never_ whittle or drink beer together, we did find _some_ common ground as time went on.

Although, I must admit we _did_ squabble a lot in the very beginning. Well, we still do, but...

Anyway, I told him early on, doing things my way was the point of doing this book in the first place. Therefore, I'm _certainly_ not here to hurt _anyone's_ little feeling and all that.

Hell, I just wanted to say a few things, without worrying about all that proper stuff. I mean, heroines are _always_ up my ruggedly carved ass, and I'm _supposed_ to be _sensitive_. Writers are a _constant_ pain, and I'm _supposed_ to let them _live_. _Then,_ I have the former lover; bless her heart. Who is probably out there, at this very moment saddling up her _broom, a_ nd I'm supposed to be...uh...

Well hell, I don't _even_ know what I'm _supposed_ to do about _her_.

I mean, everyone knows how those former lovers can be.

Then, to top all that off, as a single man now, I end up _letting_ readers draw me into their fantasy, _then_ they usually end up.... Don't get me wrong here. I mean readers, well, don't cause _all that_ much concern, and I _do_ admit to having my favorites and _all..._ but still. It just gets a little time consuming, that's all. Plus they usually have some special location they like to think on stuff...

I tell you what though. There is this one woman over Savanna way. Well, let me tell you right here and now. _She...well_ ... she's the type woman that can even cause a hero to lose his focus....... I mean to tell you, she is...

Well... writer boy says this is not the time to drift off to la la land. He also said my words were much too _crude,_ when I mentioned readers taking too much of my time.

Hell, I said it wasn't a _big concern_ so don't get me all wrong now. In fact I would be the _first_ to tell you, lovemaking on the beach is a good thing an all. It's just that, after a while...well...the damn sand, it can get _everywhere_.

I guess I can't speak for _all_ heroes, but even _carved from granite buttocks_ ain't sand resistant.

No sir re.

Plus, just for another quick example, I think peanut butter and jelly is great, _if_ it's spread on a sandwich. I also don't have anything against a German Shepard, _if_ he's a _watch_ dog.

Oh yeah, when I say watch dog, I am talking about one, that _barks_ when a stranger shows up.

Camels...well...I think they are the most _ornery critter_ on the planet. Plus, they like wondering around in even more _sand_. I guess their ass must be thoroughly sand resistant.

Well anyway, you don't care about all that.

But early on when things got a little heated in our negotiations. Bern...writer man _even_ implied _something_ about me being a _Stone Age_ male. I told him I might have been around a little while, but I thought that remark was....

He even alluded to the ideal of me taking a _sensitivity_ class.

Yeah, he actually....

Can you _even_ believe that shit?

I reckon he needs to try a little _sand recreation_ , and he would see how much time a hero spends being sensitive. It might be in a little different context, but sensitive nonetheless. I am just using sand as an example. There are many other things that can...

Oh well, I just wanted to do things my way _for once_ , but _anyway_ , he still has his teeth and all.

I tell you what though. His suggestions about that _sensitive_ stuff still makes me mad. Besides, _he_ don't know what he's talking about anyway. In fact I went a little misty eyad just a few years back, when my horse just up and killed over. I mean we were having a perfectly good day and all...

I guess though, horses have heart attacks, just like you mortal folks.

My guilt might be a little miss placed, but I felt a _little_ responsible, because on occasion, I would feed him the lettuce off my triple beacon cheese burger, but _never_ any of the really dangerous stuff. So I don't know....

Anyway, I finally gave in _a little_ , especially, when our writer fully explained, how the world had gotten so sensitive of late.

He actually worried me a little when he said, just one wrong implication, could easily send some mortal folks off for _immediate_ counseling. He even said a simple _word_ or _phrase_ could be catastrophic. Therefore, some mortal folks required _medication_ , just to look at books or scan news articles.

He said there could be _words in there_ that just...

In all honestly, this was surprising news to me since I had usually, always just went along with the writer folk. Although, I had to readily agree, my roles _have_ changed _a lot_ over the years.

I mean back in the day it was kill them all then let God sort them out.

I also understand, along with being less sensitive back in the day, the hero most often rounded up the criminals. But _now_ the hero may very well _be_ the criminal. Well, _of course_ for the most part he _is_ a _good_ criminal an all.

Writer man immediately decided the word _criminal w_ as too harsh. He said tossing around such a word, might conjure up traumatic images of serial killers and the like.

Whoa, I didn't mean to upset anyone, by making it sound as if the modern hero is/was born a crim... _misunderstood_ person.

No sir re.

I would suspect, like all misunderstood folks, he was born and lived most of his life as a decent fellow, I reckon.

Maybe, he _even_ had a horse that lived a long happy life.

Then of _course_ , as you might guess, some traumatic event come along and changed things for him. Hell, for all we know, his momma might have made him stand in the corner, or some other _mean momma_ shit.

Well, whatever the reason, he no doubt had a lot of those damn flashbacks over the years too.

Plus all the nightmares, that often woke him up sweating while he flailed at invisible shit.

Just so you know, all that's a little rough on a hero, but writers, well they salivate over those little events.

Anyway, after years of silent agony, i _t was then_ , our hero went out and stole a billion dollars and killed several hundred people, just to make things right.

Although, he did give up _some_ of the loot he stole to charity.

Plus, we have his heroin; she obviously has never really experienced true love until now. Well, the last hero she worked with was _all right_ , and she jumped his bones every chance she got... but now...mercy me... I think she's talking _soul mate_.

So it's all good, don't cha know.

But...while still trying hard to look _astute,_ writer man decided, it's _wasn't_ good, because a billion was a little too much money for _anyone_ to believe. He also hinted at the fact that most heroines and mortal women alike, are practically virgins. Plus, he said he didn't remember any story, where the body count was so outrageously high.

Well, he _did_ mention you folks had dealt with a couple of _world wars_ and all...but..... Then, there was that fateful night when all the _dead_ were living, and up walking all about. I also suspect, when the women folk start pounding on his door, they will all be virgins.

Yes sir re........Virgins everywhere.

Anyway, I told him I didn't know much about all that walking dead stuff, but I could _easily_ see how that might have turned a little nasty.

I also relented a little and said _....Okay_ , _okay_ the billion was just said for a little color, so maybe it was just a few _million_ dollars.

There you go. Can you folks, _even_ _believe_ a writer of all people, would call _anyone's_ hand, when a little tint is added.

Plus, our hero might have only killed twenty or thirty people, leading up to, and during the actual thei.... _the taking_ of what should have been his anyway _._ I really don't know why it should have been his.. but...

Well, since I am trying to be sensitive, I wasn't even going to mention this...but... the little angelic heroine, well, she took out a few folks as well. The short of it is. With all the commotion going on, before and during the robbery, she started having flash backs _too_.

The best I can tell, _her trauma_ started when she was in grammar school.

In all honesty, I suspect the classmate who everyone called little Jimmy, probably just had a school boy crush on her. Like I said earlier, I didn't go to school, but I guess you folks know how all that crush stuff works.

Then _again_ , hell, Jimmy _could've_ just been one of those _mean_ little shits. His teacher probably should've stuck his little ass in a corner. Then again, I suppose all that would have done, was set the stage for _more_ trouble down the road.

However, the fact little Jimmy pointed out a small pimple on her cheek, back in the day, cost fifteen bound and gagged security folks their life. She _is_ a real sweet heart as you know, so I suspect things would have been much different, had fate stepped in and the one security fellow _named_ Jim, had _simply forgotten_ to wear his name tag.

Well hell, as anyone _knows_ , those flash backs can get some downright _mean_ stuff going on.

Although, I guess saying it was _mean stuff_ might have been harsh. After all, it _wasn't_ _her_ fault.

Anyway, when I backed off a little on the numbers, writer man started to look all smug and shit. He even smoothed back his comb over a little.

Cleaned his glasses.

I wasn't going to say anything else about it all, but smug looks just aggravate the piss....I mean it's hard to be sensitive when someone acts like all that.

I tell you what. The mad woman I mentioned earlier, she knows exactly how to work that look so it will just rip my....

So anyway, instead of just slapping him, like _you_ or most people would've done. I held my composure, and told him the _actual robbery_ was just _small_ stuff.

I say small, because _now_ folks, we have the _getaway_ to consider. I think, along with the writers, many readers over look all that as well. I suspect though, that's only natural, because they are just _so happy,_ the little heroine is so _deeply_ and _profoundly_ in love.

Then, as we all _very_ well know, little Jimmy should never have been running his damn mouth, in the first place.

Plus now, she is a real looker for sure. I reckon the pimple must have cleared up without a scar. Well, without a _physical_ scar.

As you can very well guess, the hero probably looks damned good too. While armed to the teeth and wearing the latest in robbery attire.

I don't have time to get in to all that, but we know full well, there was jitters and lip biting going on.

In fact, I feel pretty sure the _both_ of them; have been thinking soul mates from the _get go_.

That's all good, I reckon, and if all that stuff perks a lot of nipples, that's even better. However, while you're sitting there feeling all _perky_ , other people aren't feeling nearly so damned good.

I mean when the getaway is in full swing. You need to un-perk at _least_ long enough, so to _focus clearly_ on what's _really_ happening.

Folks, just think about it. Once your awesome hero and sweet heroine climb into their escape helicopter and missiles start to fly, police helicopters drop out of the sky like flies.

All the while, buildings are exploding all over the place.

Also, you have to know, all that falling debris is bound to cause dozens of pile ups on the streets and freeways.

Speed boats start flying out of the water and shit. Hell, if that ain't enough. They will fly into some huge building and then _blow_ it _to smithereens!_

You must _know_ that _can't be good_ for all the people inside.

Well, some of them might be off their meds, and not care one way or the other. But others, _well_ , they in there eating carrots and cottage cheese, just trying their best to eke out a few more seconds of life.

I know, as a reader you don't worry about whether they live or die. All I'm saying is. Had those folks know our lovely misunderstood couple was coming to town. Well, they could have gone ahead and enjoyed a large pizza, with extra cheesy bread.

A large meat lover's pizza, would have been _my_ personal favorite for a last meal.... I like chicken fried steak pretty good too bu...

Anyway, not only did their carrot sticks get scattered, but in all the commotion, a stray missile took out most of the parking deck, so hell their mini-van plunged fourteen stories too.

Shit, along with all the helicopters and mini vans, I won't even try to estimate the number of crashed police cars.

Don't get me wrong here, I am not trying to take _all_ the temper out of your _nipples_ , and possibly cause them to _inver_ t. However, with all those handy police fellows, either killed or maimed. I suspect you would then, need to seriously _re think_ your action plan, if a serial kil... _miss understood fellow_ , shows up at your door, carrying a roll of plastic wrap and a jar of mayo.

_Okay_ writer man, I will make it sensitive.

Just so I don't cause additional trauma or further antagonize any _miss understood_ fellows. Let me just say, I meant no disrespect whatsoever, when I casually mentioned, the two common _off the shelf_ items above. After all, everyone knows or should know, the guy has talent. So to offer full consideration for his vast array of skills, I have no doubt; he will also be carrying a satchel with a few specialty torture tools. Tools, that were _self_ -designed and crafted by his _expert_ hands.

Anyway folks, my point is, do _you really_ think all the innocent people, just walk away from all those burning building and exploding cars? _Then_ , just shake it all _off_ and head on over to grandma's house for supper.

_Well,_ I think _not_.

_Then,_ since we _are,_ _after all_ , talking about trauma here, I think we most definitely will have to factor in the distress, which was suffered by many of the people that _did survive_ Armageddon _._

I guess, to make everyone feel _a little_ better, we will say _some_ , who wasn't mangled up _too_ bad, actually made it to grandma's place.

Although, you have to know, grandma will obviously be a little put out. After all, she cooked for ten guests and then maybe four to five actually show. It's just a guess, but I would think also, their appetites may be curbed a bit, after wading through the bloodbath.

Oh, just so you know. When I suggested the guest list was shortened and appetites suppressed. I didn't mean to _even_ _imply_ grandma didn't stir up some good vittles. Hell no, it was your handsome hero and darling heroine, who dashed cold water on _grannies little_ party.

Although, after a good meal is behind them, and they all kick back to pick the chicken out of their teeth. Who is to say the surviving guest won't start reflecting on all the major events of today. _Then_ , just maybe _they too_ start to feel a little pissed.... _traumatized them self_.

I know, _I know_ , a big meal can mellow mortal folks out and all.

A short after dinner nap is my personal favorite...but..

However, granny still might feel a little tinge of sadness, when she looks at all the empty chairs.

I think though, everyone would whole heartily agree, just how all that would only serve, to further dampen the mood of our dinner guest.

No sir re. No perky nipples at this little party.

Please though, don't take me all wrong here, because _honestl_ y, I don't believe granny was looking to start up a bunch of trouble. I mean as you well know, most grannies just aren't that way.

However, I think when she casually mentioned, how she may as well return the birthday gift; she had just bought for young Jennifer...

.....Well, I guess any reasonable _trauma victim,_ just needs that one _final little_ push.....so I guess that's why uncle John went totally berserk....

I know all that sounds bad, but bless her heart and _rest_ her soul, I don't think granny's intentions were to start any shit.

Oh yeah. Just so no grannies feel hurt or _slighted_. I know there must be some out there, who will kick some ass in a heartbeat. Yes sir re!

Anyway, _are_ you at least starting to see, where my head was at early on, when I threw out the huge count for casualties?

Plus, after committing the tragic, _after dinner massacre_ , Uncle John, the one lone survivor, is now out rounding up his own posse. Then, hell you _have to know_ , him and other newly recruited members, will go forth into the world, in order to extract _their_ rightful revenge.

Hell, even if they don't wreak havoc right away, those flash backs will eventually cause some shit to unwind.

Plus, the fifteen guards may have a family member or two, who is not at all _delighted_ , about the way everything went down.

_Anyway_ , the hero and his sweetie are now drinking Mai Tai's on some exotic island.

Oh yeah, as you can guess his honey is stunningly beautiful, especially in her bikini. I suppose at this point, the writer might even conjure you up a little, _re-perk_ love scene.

After all, you are reading a romance story, and the rise and fall of nipples is important stuff. So, in all sincerity, you know as well as I do, there was some red hot, _danger induced_ , love making going on in the helicopter during the get -away.

You can trust me when I say, as a romantic hero I enjoy the love scenes right along with you. However, with grannies entire family pretty much annihilated, I just didn't feel good about sharing all that.

But anyway, like I said earlier, it's all good. They did leave the homeless shelter a few bucks, before they split town.

Yes sir re. You got to _admire_ those compassionate ones.

I know, I know, some of you may already be feeling deprived, all because I held back in regards to the awesome love scene. But please, just settle down a little, because I just _made up_ the _entire little story_ , in order to feed into my fretting writers worry streak.

_Okay_ ....writer man. It was all a little wordy I know. But folks, it wasn't my fault. It was his _smug_ look, which _forced_ me to tell how things _really_ work. Also, I mainly wanted to _show_ , how most of his concern about _my_ story _traumatizing_ someone is badly misplaced.

However, throughout the story, I do bring up a thing or ten, which might....

But hell, all an all, I expect the body count in this story to be minimal.

Whoa! Don't take that all wrong, and stop reading already. If things start to lull a little, I am _not_ above blowing up some stuff. I will also try and find a way, so to get the blood flowing back into those scared little nipples. Just keep in mind, I am new at this writer gig so it might just be a semi perk at first...but hey!

Although, I feel _reasonably_ confident, we can pretty much do all of that, _without_ involving _granny_.

Chapter Two

Doubters Distract

.............Well hell, even though I mentioned the low level of causalities, writer boy still wouldn't give it up.

So he went on to _thoroughly_ explain, how, if a mortal person was traumatized even a little, it could take years of expensive treatment and medication to get them even _half way_ back to normal.

Now folks, didn't I just prove how well I understand all that trauma stuff. ...I just wonder, what he thought I was talking about in my little scenario.

......Well hell, I figured myself a reasonable man so I didn't want to cause a bunch of arguing...I can do that with a heroine at any given time....but I had to wonder though, what getting back to normal really means. A lot of mortals seem a little strange, if you ask me.

Mercy! He freaked and tried to strike that from the page, so I in turn, quickly tried to make it right.

_No, No_! I didn't mean " _You_!" I know all of _you readers are rock solid._ It's some of the _others_ I worry about.

He scoffed and said, by just saying, "Not you," in general, wouldn't help a damned thing. He even figured, saying that, could make things even more traumatizing, since many might assume they _were_ the " _others_."

With that wearing heavy on their mind, they could _easily_ end up with a cold compress on their head. He said it could be more tragic, maybe even cause physical injury, if they hyperventilate and fall up faint.

Folks, don't you think we already covered that? Hell, this story is about the life and times of a romantic hero. Heroines and ...uh......... _romance...._ yeah romance... _that's_ what _my_ game is all about, _not_ trauma.

Well, as you already know a heroine can get out there on occasion... but...as I said before, she normally settles right on down. Plus, she doesn't usually try and traumatize anyone but _me_.

Well, on occasion I will catch a gig with a little sweetheart, who leans toward _world_ domination....but...

Hell, you know perfectly how all that works.

...However, he finally did relent a little and said, most folks would probably survive, if their meds kick in or the paramedics arrive quickly.

I shrugged and told him, in the _overall_ scheme of things, a few minor injuries didn't sound all that bad to me. But, as you might guess, he didn't see it that way.

Mercy...I even tried to tell him _granny_ would be spared!

Hell, in order to try and get him calmed down, I also told him, even though it was _all hypothetical_ , if it made him feel better, along with granny, young Jennifer _actually_ pulled through too. She is now a happy, well- adjusted young lady, who loves sexting and posing for pictures in the mirror, with hope of finding true perfection in her pouting look.

I like the fat lip look though, and even like it better when they are wrapped all around.....

.........Hell, even that didn't move him one little bit. Then I decided shit, we may have an _early_ causality early on, if he don't calm down. After all, I had heard all about how you mortal folks will stroke out at nothing.

I love to eat so I didn't mean to even imply, stress and a _beacon cheeseburger_ , along with a lot of fried chicken is _nothing_ ...but...

Well, I figured we would need fries with that triple burger...extra catsup...light salt...onion rings...

Milk shake.

Anyway, along about this point in our discussion, I started to wonder if I should just find a damn typing class. Plus, I was still a little hungry too.

Then, I figured no, I better stick to hero stuff, so I said, okay, okay, maybe I was a little harsh when I used the word _others_. So I again rephrased and said, mortals are an _interesting_ lot indeed.

Then, he looked even more frightened, and this time folks, he even messed up his comb over. But he was finally able to pull himself together enough to tell me. Although, "interesting" has a lot of _positive_ synonyms, some might still feel they are being _singled_ out.

Some might feel they are under suspicion, or even a person of _interest_ in a crime.

Yes sir re. I tell you what. I decided I didn't know how red faced you mortals could get before you catch on fire. Although, I suspected one more order of curly fries, and this fellow could _easily_ be pushing up daises.

Anyway, I didn't know what to say about all that. I mean, I can...well... I really had no idea mortals were _so_ sensitive. Hell if that be the case, the fall out in my earlier scenario was probably _much_ greater.

Shit, since my break up with the broom cowgirl, I had been hanging with a few mortal women. Well, we have been broken up _a lot_ over the years. Like I said, she _is a_ mean one. So out of _concern_ for all the mortal women, I started to fear I had already done _a lot_ of damage already.

_Mercy_! I could have already deeply traumatized a few of them. Shit, maybe even their...uh... _kitties_ as well. Then I decided, nah, hell, as you would expect kitties always get a little spastic near the end of things....but no... they were all purring along just fine at last word.

Mortal kitties are resilient, I reckon. At least, I guess they are. I mean they always come back for more, and seem just as _rowdy_ as ever.

So yeah.. I think...yeah, they are all just fine.

Just so you know. I have to _really_ _wonder_ if it's all as bad as he says. I think his momma could have just told him some stuff....

I mean mommas _will_ do shit like that.

Well, I didn't have a momma...but I hear stuff....

So there ya go, folks. As you can see, he is/was adamant about _everything_ being correct, and like I said my list of writers was short.

Really short!

Okay... his little paper breathing bag seems to be working so I will try and move along.

Anyway, as a general rule, I work best in my jeans, while kicking up a little dust with my cowboy boots. Well, personally I think that's when I look my best too. I mean, obviously, the length, of the jeans have to be cut just right and all that. Plus, if there is a cold snap, my duster has to fit and hang just right as well.

Please, don't take the _look my best_ , comment all wrong. I am, as you will thoroughly see, an _extremely_ modest man. Although, you would have to know, if I am going to inspire lip biting and butterflies in my little heroines. I can't very well go, strutting about in a plaid shirt and knee britches.

Well, I guess all that might cause her to bite her lip a little. Although, it would likely be to _hold_ back a giggle instead of suppressing tingles. I mean you have to know, a man can't do himself any good when a woman acts like all that.

I guess, if you are a female reader, you know perfectly well how all that works. Hell, you also know damn good and well, you're not going to give it up, when a man struts about, looking like a dumb ass.

Well... if that's _pretty much_ all that keeps showing up, you might have to lower the bar...but generally speaking...

However, if western gigs are scarce, I sometimes accept other roles. It's not so bad, most often, but if a writer gets a little wild eyed. I will often get stuck with some exotic clothing and name. Folks, I am talking about a name so _squirrelly_ , when introduced to someone, I have to look away, or glance down at the fruity sandals, that often accompany the name.

No need for worry though. The name and clothing just sets me back a little. So don't take it all wrong and start to think I might, drop the ball, in a love scene. My rugged good looks are still there, regardless of the clothing, and of course my manhood is always _rock_ solid.

With that said, when the heroine slips out of her little skirt, you can rest assured. I _will_ get the job done.

Yes sir re, she will be wiggling and whimpering just like she's...

Well, you know how that all...

...Sorry folks, hold on for just one moment. I see a reader who is looking all worried and the like. She isn't dressed in beach wear, and I don't see any peanut butter on her night stand, so let me see what's up.

What? I see a doubtful expression on your face. Trust me. I will handle the heroi...

I already said the clothing has nothing to do...

Oh? You think I am full of it in general?

Well that's being pretty harsh don't you think?

Hey...we are just talking here so I don't see any need to fold your arms and look all...

_Are you saying that, just because I said I was your_ _average_ _romantic hero?_

_Well, I don't want to_ _brag_ _but I am a little above average. I mean you have to know all that. You read of my work all the time and I always get the jo...._

Well, there was that one time, several years ago. But, all that happened in my rookie days and I had no way of knowing that was coming. My writer just went off in left field....

Oh yeah, to be honest there was that one even more recent..

_Hey, stop looking at me like that. I was hungry at the time and hell; I guess a book about_ some fucker who can't get it _.... erectile dysfunction.... might have helped some of you mortals in the long...._

I mean we all know in the mortal world, shit like that happens on occa...Hell over half my time is spent helping out their lady fo...

......... _..Oh?..... So, you think I am just some made up character........?_

Then you weren't actually questioning my manhoo...?

Oh, I gotcha, you just believe I only exist in a writer's imagination?

Sheeesh...Well, that's a big relief and just so you know, writers aint all that damn imaginative. They just...

Hell, I can explain my existence easy enough. That is simple stuff. I thought you were troubled, all because I tried to be a little humble and said I was average.

Even worse, I thought you were calling, my manhood, into question. I mean, after all, I have made more heroines...

What was that?

Well, you are, talking to me and all. Is that not real?

Yes, I know, cold medication can be tricky, but I'm right here. I believe we must be in Iowa someplace. If we ain't, Manhattan has one hellava corn crop going on...

Hmm, so you don't believe heroines are real either?

I was discussing the corn... but..., trust me, they are very real.

Well, I admit all of them don't make the cut for flesh and blood like me. But I guess though, you've never had one of the little beauties try and scratch your eyes out. Then turn around an hour later and use the very same nails to rip your back to shreds, just because she feels so damned good.

Well, then again maybe you have. Things, they be uh changing mighty fas...

I mean hell, along with the nails; sharp teeth can be a concern.

...... _. I tell you what, being a good romantic hero can be risky sometimes. I mean it can be if you get a woman heated up like nature intended, and like I said, I do get the...._

Hmm... with all that in mind, I reckon I should have included fearless in my intro.

But I still don't think you need to be folding your arms and acting like all...

Then again, I know as a reader, you obviously don't see the hidden danger. You just squirm around in your chair with that hazed look in your eyes. Some might even slip a hand beneath the covers, once I cool the sweet little heroine down then heat her back up.

Okay...if you're going to blush, at least unfold your arms.

Well no. I don't do anything with candles... I just meant heating her up in the context of...

Maybe you should get some rest. I hear those summer colds can be...

...... _.No...no one actually killed granny. I've tried several times to assure everyone, of how all that was just an illustration of how some crazy assed writers..._

....Well, I didn't see that _shit_ coming. Plus I can sense others out there that...

I tell you what........I had no frigging idea I would have doubters. I never even thought about all that... After all, we just released a few advanced copies for my most avid readers.

Actually what we sent out, was what _I thought_ was the start of a pretty good little story. But, _guess who_ , insisted we needed to get a few opinions and do this rewrite.

Hell, I was almost ready to fix you up with a happy little ending.

Causality level was low, as promised. Granny was fine.

But now....?

........I mean shit; _you folks_ had no trouble believing any of my actions, in previous stories. No sir re. A big bag of potato chips and we were set.

Well, actually there was no tater chips for me. My rock solid ass was probably against the wall fighting off...

Hell, I guess the damned writers; really do have everyone convinced it's all about them. Yup, and you suck up their every word too.

Yes, sir re...

Just some made up character, _my ass_! I'm _real_ as summer sun.

I tell you what. This doubter thing is truly a shock. Like I said, I had no ideal. I mean writer man went a _little_ nuts when I explained things to him but... I think though, his sand was shifting before I even showed up.

......Yes sir re. He allowed he was a man, who was crafted from the hardest granite. Therefore, _no one_ could just walk into his _creative space_ , and say they could take control of his will and make him do their bidding. No sir re. He said along with his rock solid exterior, his inner will was like well-tempered steel, therefore he thrived on the _sheer strength_ of his will.

Well.......as you might very well _guess_ , I can't say much about all that _now_ , but after a while we _crushed_ the granite and _melted_ the steel.

Now he is smirking again, and complaining about how I sometime pause to think on things. Hell, I have to stop sometimes and ponder on things. I just can't _blurt_ out a bunch of crap like the great writers love to do. Although, I still don't know why he makes the little line of dots. It looks to me like he could just sit there till I am through thinking.

He also says the way I drop off sentence's, adds even more of the dots, and makes his page look bad. Well.....here we go. I guess I don't know what to say about all that.......I reckon sometimes when I'm talking, I just think about _something_ else before I'm done. Shit, sometimes if the subject gets complicated, I simply don't _even know_ what to say about it all.

Hell, for obvious reasons, I can't say much about it either, but sometimes you mortal folk just baffle the livin......

........While he is on a yapping roll, he has now _decided_ , since I'm the only one talking and no quotations marks are used, it may be hard for a reader to follow. He also says the way things are being done, past and present tense will likely be a problem as well. I told him I didn't know about all that. As far as I can tell, yesterday is past and today is now.....

.......I also told him he could talk, and use his little _double_ commas if he wanted too. He refrained, but sometimes I hate to even _think_ on, much less say aloud some of the shi... _stuff_ ....he comes up with.

Besides, I'm just some _made up_ yah who anyhow. I tell you what, folks!

Mercy me....I have been around so long, I don't even think about how mortals see me. I guess though, up until now everyone just assumed I was a regular guy. Although, I do have to move on occasion, in case people start to wonder why I don't get crow's feet. Well, actually mad woman is so mean, the neighbors are afraid to look at us, but the moving thing is just something I feel I should do.

Hell, regular guy or not, the readers don't usually seem shocked when I show up. They just keep doing what they're doing. Yes sir re, just keep doing what they do. Well anyway, folks in general might see me as a regular guy. Some of the favored lady folk...well...they know better.

So anyway, I guess in all reality things are _a little_ more complicated than drifting off to happy ever after, or getting whacked in the last chapter. I know that's where you folks think we all end up...but...

I do believe though, my existence could all be _readily_ explained, if Holly wood ever gets their head out of their ass, and makes a movie based on the _real facts_. As you well know, they can easily show you what takes place, when all the planets are aligned just right. As you can plainly see, they can bounce the moon and stars around like ping pong balls.

I mean it has nothing to do with me, but back in the day, you saw the tin man walking around just as plain as day. Then of course, you had the Ogre dude. I don't remember his name, but he lived off in swamp someplace.

However, I must confess early on, how I ended up here to tell you this story is _very_ simple. The truth is, it has nothing to do with the moon and stars. _Neither_ , were there any special things happening with the planets, as you folks like to believe.

I mean, there _could'v_ e been some of that shit going on, but I didn't or don't know anything about it.

I just figured, if I started out talking about the planets and such. It might impress everyone and make for a more colorful story. However, when I came to be I was twenty nine years of age, and I'm _still_ twenty nine. So I guess that is worth a bolt or two. At least it is to me. Just so you know, I don't have anything against getting old it's just tha...that... I hear heroines don't bite their lip as much, when they see a big beer belly. I guess though, that's fine and dandy, it's just........Well, I like beer and a cheeseburger myself but...

............Hell, like I said before, the writers blow smoke up your ass all day, while you suck up every word. However, my being here is so simple. Actually, I probably should have said all this in the very beginning. To be honest though, I have been putting it off, and all the while trying to think up something dramatic.

I know you mortal folks like a little flair, so several ideals _have_ crossed my mind. I was _even_ tempted; to talk about, two star crossed lovers _kissing_ at midnight on a _stormy_ night in June. Thinking that might stir up a little excitement.

The thought even crossed my mind, of maybe sending a sudden bolt of lighting up their ass, to offer a touch of dramatic _sizzle_.

I mean, Hollywood can toss just a few bolts of lightning around. Then, you folks will believe anything is possible. Vampires pop out of coffins, and dead people get up and walk. Oh yeah _people_ , now you can believe _every_ word of that shit.

So I figure Hollywood, could easily make you swallow the lighting scenario. But sadly, down here in the simple world, four million volts up someone's ass, just ain't a pretty sight.

I suppose if anyone "doubts" that little fact. Just fold your arms and look all pisse... perturbed and try it sometime. Then, you will believe everything.......Well, actually, _you_ won't need to believe _anything_ , but surviving relatives _will_.

I bet they would say, "Yep, _old Jared_ , wasn't so _full of it_ after all. He _was_ feeling a little depressed that day, because of all the doubters up his ass, and _yeah_ , his horse had died awhile back, but yes sir re, he knows his shit when it comes to lighting."

I reckon they would've mentioned a mad woman was pissing me off as well.

Anyhow, I suppose there is a hundred ways, my existence could be described, but I don't like spinning folks a load of crap. I want to keep things real because, as you can guess, when I am working, my life is often embellished a little.

Whoa... not _that_ much, like I said. I get the job done.

However, when I am off work, in order to blend in, I try to live by the same code of ethics _any_ mortal man would.

Also, to blend in, I dress, eat and sleep like any man might do. Well, pretty much like anyone. I also try, as any mortal man would, to always be completely honest and straight forward. I don't mean to say, on rare occasions, a mortal man won't go rogue and sometimes color, or embellish the truth a bit, _especially_ , when his woman or _multiple_ women are involved.

Although, other men might say, his _stretching_ of the truth is just his natural male gallantry, rising to the surface in a crisis. Therefore, the said gallantry compels him to try, at all cost, to preserve the feelings of all the fore mentioned women.

Then _again_ , I guess keeping his dick off the chop block _could_ also be a factor.

So, to thwart any and all concern of a chop block, I myself, will just go with the _simpl_ e truth. So the truth is, my mortality, and mortality of others like me, has nothing to do with the planets or lighting. Not one dammed thing, which is the least bit exciting. So are you ready for the simple facts? Actually it's not even facts, it's just a _single_ fact.

Well folks, I am here, simply because, some lazy assed writer did not finish a fucking story... So yeah! There you have it!

See what I mean folks. I kept, beating around the bush, because I hated to even tell you, since it's all so mundane. Now you can see why I almost broke the code of mortal men, and told you a lie.

I know, I know, you probably doubt one of your men would stretch the truth. I agree it's a long shot but...after all, I did say it was rare.

Hey now. Let me say this quietly so I don't start a ruckus.........But just between you me and a lightning bolt, I know some mortal men will sometimes lie like a worn out coon hound. I just had to say all the other stuff, for the sake of my little nervous writer. After all _he is_ carved from granite.

With all that said. I will take another moment, to add a little more to the mundane, by giving you a little back ground on myself.

When I first came to be, I _must admit_ , things took off with a slow, rocky start.

The year was 1859 and my original writer, was Mary Beth Watson. She was a decent enough writer, I reckon. Just very young and impressionable. I say that, because, every time a young gentleman, wearing nice brogans, walked by her window. Well, she would _swoon_ and drop my story like a hot rock.

Yes sir re. Just leave me standing in the rain like an orphan child.

I guess for her, the belly butterflies were taking wing too. She probably bit her lip a lot as well. Although..... I actually don't recall that happening as much back in the day, as it does now.

Seems now days, a writer and readers as well, would rather have a woman bite her lip than have a good orgasm. Oh, just so you _know_ , as a well-seasoned hero, I still prefer she go with the _latter_. I mean when a woman goes all tense in your ar....

........I guess though. The flavored Chap Stick, of modern day, makes for a more tasty bite. I suppose that's all good, because back in the day, my love scenes were a lot less descriptive if any details were even mentioned at all. I guess everyone just had to assume what was happening, when we slipped under the covers. In fact, I guess even mentioning, _under the covers_ might have been heavy back then, so we basically just wondered off into the sunset.

Trust me though...you would have been right, if you assumed the little heroine was soon wiggling and giggling. I mean the heroine had to act all innocent and the like...but...

Hell, you know exactly how heroines are. They're always just.....

Oh well. To make things, _even worse_ for a fledgling hero. You mortal folks went _pissed_ and started a damn _civil war_. I mean to tell you now, all that made it rough on a hero.

Hell, you folks have to know, it's hard to deal with _even_ the jitters and butterflies, when a lot of shooting is going on. I just don't know why mortal folk want to scrap all the time. Shit, after a damn war, you don't even get to have make up sex. Well, a couple of generals might grin a little when they sign the peace treaty...but....

I don't mean to sound like I have a problem with a little fighting. In all _honesty_ , I often scrap with my heroine's _a lot_. _However,_ at the end of the day or maybe a week, you can bet your last dollar, there will be ten toes up and ten toes down. So at least there's method to the madness.

Looking back though, I know it was a war _that had_ to be fought. However, I was such a rookie hero at the time; it just looked to me like a great method for _population_ control. From what I could see, it was also pretty easy to get one going too. I reckon, brothers, cousins, out laws and in laws show up, maybe even hunker down for a _dinner_ on the ground....

...... Well, after _tha_ t, they just decided on the color of uniform they wanted to _die_ in. When that decision is _final_ , they just start shooting at the guy that preferred a different color.

Then, to _further_ complicate things, after the war was over, you folks had the great western movement. I guess it wasn't hot enough for mortal folks in _Georgia,_ so they packed their shit and headed for _Texas_. Hell, you know it's gonna be a _lo_ t _cooler_ there. Yes sir re.

......Yeah, I'm not _lying_ , just check around a little. Somebody is _bound_ to have written all that shit down.

_Anywa_ y, before I had to say a few things for the little doubters. I was trying to assure everyone, I will _always_ handle the little heroine, so no problem there.

My writer is still whining. He is saying, even though I cleared the cocky attitude about my clothing. I still sounded a little boastful, when I mention what would happen, once the sweet heroine comes out of her skirt.

Well, what can I say? I just didn't want to start off on the wrong foot. Maybe, even cause people to think I might leave a woman stranded. I hear that happens on occasion in the mortal world...but... hell, if you think on it, all that frustration might be what make wars more fun, who knows.

I am kidding a little, but mercy sakes, I don't know what world he hails from, but what else is a _romantic_ hero _supposed_ to do, when his heroine wants a little loving?

I know you mortal people like a little _drama_ first... but...

Mercy though, if my little sweetie is laying there naked, with heaving breast and beckoning eyes, I can't very well say, "No _thank you_ , I _already_ _had some on the way home_."

Talk about _drama_ and _trauma._ Not only for her, but the reader as well.... Yaaaaah, I can see it now. A sweet little reader is sitting there, scanning each line with big thoughtful eyes. She may even have the knack for placing _herself_ in the scene, and be experiencing the same physical and emotional pleasures as the heroine.

Then she comes across, _I already had some_ ....Flop...Whoa...back up and read _that again_. Did he really just say...

Yes sir re, the little reader would be forced to dry off those little fingers, and probably make short work of the potato chips.

.......I guess though, _the already had some_ line might work in some sort of _horror_ story, but I'm talking romance here. So gentlemen, I would _not_ try that at home.

Well, I suppose _you can_. If _shit hitting_ the fan, gets you hot.

Although, to be honest. I don't know, if _all_ mortal women are as high strung as some of my heroines. However, I would think even if a woman is of a gentle nature, a lot of questions and backtracking would be in order, before any make up sex would even gain traction.

I mean just general questions and stuff.

What!? Who? When and where? What did the _ugly_ bitch _look_ like?.................................................. _Oh Really?_! Really??...??.............for real.....Well.......really......shit, let me tell you something Mr.! _That_ sorry assed slut ain't _my friend_ no more!

I suspect a little arm folding would be in the mix as well.

Shit, even a few fist and teeth might make an appearance.

No writer man, I didn't over use the word _really_. I bet every reader in the world will understand all that. I suspect though, women folks use the _really_ word, along with _the look and pause_ that goes with it, so they can calm a little and not have to waste a day explaining to law enforcement, why they had to kill their sweetie.

Easy folks, just playing a little with all that. I know your hero/heroine is _right_ where their _supposed_ to be. If they've already had some _today_ , then _you're_ smiling too.

Yes sir re. You _know_ that's right!

Okay, let me get back at it.

My appearance is also altered many times over so that, too, is hard to describe. If my writer is female, my body is perfect with tousled hair, piercing blue eyes, rippling muscles and the shy boy grin.

Well, all that's _actually_ pretty close to home... but...I'm not allowed to say so though. Well, depending on the writer, I may sometimes be described with dark eye's...but...

She will also tell you in great detail about my _perfect_ buttocks, along with strong muscular thighs, too ensure positive thrusting. And _of course_ I am all warm and sensitive and the like, _yet_ strong and protective.

I know, _things_ _they be uh changing fast_ , but I do admit it can get a little confusing on occasion, even for a time tested hero, when you suddenly go from tears at a sunset, to opening up a _big_ can of _whip ass._

I mean you have to correct in a hurry, or even a _firm_ jaw can get softened up a little.

Writers....yes sir re, you have to love them. Well, I have _never actually_ cried at a sunset...but point made.

She, the female writer, will without a doubt, write me with the perfect cock, both in length and girth to _fully delight_ the beautiful heroines _burning_ petal of love.

There ya go.....See there _doubters?_ I _got_ this.

Anyway, as you well know, my love making technique will obviously reflect the writers _own_ desires of the moment. Stretch me or tease me, may cause cock size to vary, in order to fulfill the immediate need.

I reckon, if _all_ is right with the world, the little writer will just babble for three chapters so you know _exactly,_ what the little heroine is/ gonna/ was/might/ will be wearing.

_Shoes_ are important too.

Just so you know, the hero never gets a lot of credit for his clothes, but just for the record, I'm usually wearing jeans...well... a shirt too. Well, some heroine's like it when I take it off...

I don't even know why I even said that, you folks know how that works.

However.....if she, the writer is running on a little _dry spell_ , my heroine may quickly find herself up against the wall, with the clothing of choice, rapidly being ripped away.

While we are locked in our rage of steamy lust, three hurried fingers search and find her soaked desire. The powerful hunger, engulfing the both of us will have me almost _lift_ her off the floor, as _lust_ demands _its_ control...

Well, no need yammering on and on about all that, hell everyone reading this knows perfectly well, how those passionate wall scenes can _wet_ up a dry spell.

Although, I do suspect for the sweet little readers, the ideal number of fingers as well as strength in the _lift_ will _va_ ry.

Shit, thinking on all that, I suppose I should have added endurance in my intro as well. I tell you what, being a good hero ain't easy stuff. But as anyone knows though, after my heroine gets enough of the wall, the female writer will _no_ doubt, have me take her again soon.

Although, this time it may begin with her face cradled gently in my hands, for a soft brushing kiss. It will also be done slow and tender, and tempered with soft words and telling eyes. In reality, it will probably be a little _more_ intense than that, but hell, there you go; you folks already know _full well_ how that all works. So yeah, don't be shy just go ahead, nod and smile a little.

Then again, I suppose if you're a _female_ reader, you _know_ how it _all_ works. A male reader might prefer I just keep _nailing_ her against the wall. Yes sir re. Sink those fingers deeper and make her holler. Hell, _try four_ and see what she does!

Oh. Just so the _extra_ sensitive folk can sleep at night, there was no love petals _harmed_ or even _bruised_ in the above thoughts. Like I said, they are _resilient I reckon._

Also, just to let readers _and_ writer know, even for a _fit_ hero the wall stuff can get tiresome after a while. I will tell you something else folks, panties aren't as easy to rip as a writer might have you believe.

Anyway, if I happened to catch a gig with a _male_ writer, the muscles are usually there as well, with _less_ attention paid to my rock-hard buttocks. He will likely choose less descriptive wording, but he will also convey to you the fact, I have an _ample_ dick, so to fuck the heroine until she's kicking and a screaming.

Yeah, all that screaming and moaning...and kicking too, I guess.

......Although, I've never been _exactly_ sure, as to why mortal folk seem to love the screaming so much. Maybe it's just me, but I kind of like it when my woman is so overwhelmed, she can hardly find her _breath_. I tell you what folks, when a woman gets to that point; no verbal expressions are needed, because _her eyes_ and body will quietly whisper of _all_ you need to know.

Oh yeah....yes they will....those desire tinted....No...I won't even try, since words will never start to capture, the true feel and expressions of the moment....

Oh, okay...yeah.... like I say, it might just be me.

So scream like the house is on fire, if a lot of noise sweetens your tea?

Well, as you _can_ see, and _will_ see throughout the story, my mind can wonder a bit. Plus, I might be _starting_ on a little dry spell myself, and everyone knows _exactly_ how that can cause your thoughts drift.

I reckon too, for some folks it's always good to scream a little in order to confirm for the neighbors, you have some serious _stuff_ going on.

Although, my cock _length_ and _girth_ , as well as _endurance_ may vary, depending on how solid the male writer is with his _own_ manhood. Just so you know. If you're reading a story and the hero is described with ten _inches_ of swinging cock and a bucket of _balls_ ...then, _well_ , you will know the truth about the author.

His pickup may have _a few_ added enhancements as well.

Mercy, I tell you what folks. Writers, now they will put some _shit_ in your _shirt_ pocket.

Yes sir re.

Plus, you have to factor in the dry spell for him as well. As you well know, he will have the heroine _always_ ready for action. I know you will likely fold your arms and say, _well what's wrong with all that_? Love scenes are a _good_ _thang!_

I agree with that whole heartedly, but any self-respecting hero knows, you can't be making love when the fucking house is on fire, or smack in the middle of a damn _gun_ fight!

Well, I reckon you can, if that shakes your tree, but somebody's gonna get scorched balls or take a bullet in the ass.

Oh yeah! When I say _somebody_ , you know damn good and well whose _body_ I'm talking about.

...Writer man says I am trying to sound all brave and tough. I don't think I am doing any such thing. Shit like that, is what a hero does for heaven sakes. I would like to see how long his little _carved from jello_ ass, would hold up in a gun fight. I don't care what his heroine wants, I bet his dick would shrivel like a prune in the ice box.

But _really_ folks, how many times do you read, or even hear about the sugary little heroine, even getting _near_ a bullet? I mean, hell, she usually causes the damn ruckus, and worse case she _might_ end up with a twisted ankle or some _minor shit_ like that.

Although, I will let _you_ calculate the odds of that happening, when she takes off running toward _no_ where. All the while being chased by a dozen, mean mounted, lasso equipped bandits.

I have been at this hero thing for a long time, and for the life of me though, I _have never_ figured out where she planned on going. I guess evidently the writers don't know either, because she _never_ actually _gets_ anywhere. Writers always have her run though, so I suppose the readers might have some inside track on where she's headed....

_Okay_ , writer man, I guess a _prairie_ run and _mounted_ bandits _were_ from my early days. Now days my little heroine, usually just runs down _the middle_ of the road, wearing high heels, at _night_ , in the rain. To add even more spark to her dilemma. She may also be wearing an evening dress, that is _tight_ at the bottom so she has to take little baby steps. With all that going on, you know she can for certain out run a guy in army boots, and maybe a spot light on his head.

Well, I guess that's all true, if she _can't_ find a dark alley to explore. I reckon though, a big haunted house with only a candle for light, would be her all-time favorite.

Maybe a little wind to flicker the candle, and a few bolts of lightning can be thrown in as well. Yes sir re. That will wind a reader's watch.

Don't get me wrong here, it's not _her_ fault. Some _dumb ass_ writer sent her out there. Plus, the writers know exactly, how you folks will scoop that shit up with a silver spoon.

Well, there you go.... I bet you didn't have to bring out the calculator on that one either, in order to see who might get hurt. Plus, I didn't even mention the serial killer with the army boots, also has a car, with bright headlights. Maybe, even a four wheeler for a _more_ _in depth_ chase.

Actually though, I think the serial killer is a little mild for today's reader. After all, as a child we know he was under a lot of duress. Plus he just kills _a few_ people. We even talked earlier how he has always just been _a little_ misunderstood.

However...zombies....well, _and_ as we also discussed earlier, blowing up a city can take out a shit load...Flesh eaters.... Yeah... well.... they can be a _malicious_ bunch as well.

Vampires, I mean what is there to be said? Although, I _have to admit,_ I've worked a few of those gigs myself. In all honesty though. I usually just went _along_ with the writer, but frankly folks, a woman's neck has so much more potential _than_ lunch. Plus, even if you don't completely kill her, she is going to be weak and all, and I, personally, prefer a woman coming back at me with all she's got.

Well, all said and done, I guess at certain _intense_ points in her day, a little nip to the neck _could_ be in order.

However, I know you folks get all excited over the whole vampire thing and that's all good. So if that trips a few triggers, then just trip on.

All and all though, as you can plainly see, a hero's life isn't all _fun_ and _strawberry shortcake_.

Oh yeah, just one more thing! I bet you won't have to push very many damn buttons, if you work the odds on _my_ ass getting hurt, when I have to rescue her from her failed runs. I mean you have to know, even an ass carved by nature's own hand; will hurt when it's being bounced down the highway or dragged through a cactus patch.

Getting eaten alive pretty much sucks as well. Hell, I reckon all and all, there is no reason to complain. As a good hero, you just deal with all that stuff, I reckon. I just thought I would let you know how it all works.

Then, shit when it's all said and done. Of course, you folks will expect your long, drawn out love scene.

Let me say again, you can count on me....even if I _am_ mangled up a little.

Yes sir re, dedication to the end. The perking _shall_ go on!

Whoa, you again?

I think you better take care of that cold.

Well, I don't know why your fingers are numb.

Maybe you folded your arms too damned tigh...

No...I didn't suggest you do anything when I was here earlier. I just said some folks might slip a hand beneath the covers while they...

Well yeah, I guess it does take some folks longer than others. Plus, you have the cold and all. You should probably conserve your energy anyway. I think you're supposed to starve a cold, feed a ...well it may be the other way around...

Anyway, however you phrase it, I don't think playing with the little pleasure bud is mentioned as a remedy.

Oh. Okay then..... If that makes you feel a little better, just whack on, baby cakes. At least you have to unfold your arms to get it done.

I need to run...my writer says since we are in a hurry. I can't be offering any help...

Well, I guess but who knows? Although, I suppose the medication could slow things back somewhat. So I reckon that might cause your fingers some problems, especially if you're a determined one.

Oh, so you don't think the numbness is just in your fingers... well...uh

No, I don't want to loo....I've never dealt with a numb one anyway...At least I don't think...

I guess though, you could get a mirror and take a gander your own self. Maybe try one of those that make stuff look big. Then you can really check that little kitty out.....

Whoa back now! Don't look so ill. It was just a quick glance over while I was thinking on your problem, but I didn't think... or say a single word about your hair.

Hell, I am smarter than that!

No, please, your hair has nothing to do with why I won't have a look...hell; all kitties look different anyway. So I wouldn't know what to look....

... _..Plus, I'm right in the middl...._

Yes, I know you've been in bed for a while, and yes I am sure everyone has their favorite sick pajamas too.

Mercy!

I guess all _that_ went extremely well.

Chapter Three

This Time Jared Distracts Himself.

Anyway, if I live through the inferno, gun fights and cactus. Of course the male writer will keep me busy, admiring or fondling the heroine's full breast. I reckon all that is meant to feed the male's constant fascination with tits. Some say it might have something to do with his feeding as a child, but hell, I'm a hero, not a shrink.

Plus, _his_ momma might have told him _thing_ s too....

So anyway, he, the male writer will have me with a somewhat sensitive side, just a little more aggressive than necessary.

Just so you know, there is no, or little aggression toward the before mentioned tits.

_Okay_ ...soft mounds of womanly delight.

Although, on occasion now, I will end up with a heroin which might suggest things swing a little toward the aggressive side. Well, mortal women too.....but that my sweet friends, is a whole 'nother smoke.

...I tell you what. I was once invited in by a mortal woman, and she was all decked out in leather. Toys were _humming_ to beat the band and... I suspected she might have a whip stashed close by so....

_Okay_ writer man, I _won't_ elaborate...

Plus, I'm just dealing with words at the moment, but as you already know, there's equipment and time involved, when it comes to handling a little honey with those needs.

...I mean, if you plan on getting her done up right, that is.

Okay, writer man... Just to clarify a little, in case we have an amateur fellow reading this. I will say, almost all tits get excited with just a _little_ aggression. All I am saying here is, if you're a beginner, just leave the nipple clamps in her toy box, until you have a firmer grasp on what gets the little _princess_ ticking.

...Oh yeah! I almost forgot, but I mentioned equipment a little ways back, so if some of you fellows have a _real_ screamer on your hands, and the neighbors start to complain, you might pick up one of the mouth ball things, like the dominant fellows use on their ladies. Those things look to be pretty substantial, with a good sturdy head harness and all.

Yes sir re, daddy, if you have a rowdy one, just strap that puppy on.... I bet that will shut her down.

Sorry about getting off track, folks. I just didn't want to mislead anyone, maybe send them off to their sweetie pinching nipples, or worse acting like they are delicate as a dandelion.

But....most of you folks knows exactly what I was talking about anyway.

....Mr. knows it all, says I don't need to be telling people _anything_ , about nipples or quieting down their women. If a woman wants to scream it's her _right_. Also, how she likes her nipples stimulated....

Good word...... _Stimulated_. I like that. I will have to use that...

... _Okay_ ....fellows just pinch on. Mr. Wisdom has spoken. The ball in mouth _thing_ was just a thought too....I was just trying to help a little....the psyco....... _slightly odd fellow_ , two doors down may be teetering on the edge as it is,......just saying...but....if you _keep waking his ass up_ ....things might get testy.

I will try, for my writer's sake, to say this without sounding cocky, but most often both male and female word stringers are happy with my fighting ability. I may sometimes get kicked around a little, but at the end of the day I _always_ win.

As I've said many times and as you very well know. I will _always_ end up with enough energy left to deal with the heroines, _hot little pussy_ , as the male writer might express it, or cool down her _steamy little love port_ , for the female writer.

................I don't know why I'm even talking about all this, and it's not even a story really. At least writer man says it's not. He says you need drama along with a lot fighting and shit. He _also_ says after the fighting, a little lovemaking is good too. However, since mad woman pissed me off, I have been hanging out with mortal women a lot. I guess to be _honest_ , I enjoy hearing about some of their ups and downs, with love and life, about as well as some folks enjoy reading about mine.

I tell you what now, the women folk will tell you _some stuff,_ if you just listen _. Well,_ we will talk on that later _._

Anyway, I suppose the reason I am telling you all this, is just to express how hard it is for the average man to live up to the hero. I mean hell, all men are the _hero_ in their own world, whether his _manly deeds_ get embellished by a good writer or not.

However, I do understand the solemn fact; he may get his ass kicked every now and again.

While also, on _rare_ occasions, his concept for cooling a heated love portal may not find that sweet tickle of perfection. I also hear, on _some_ occasions, he might not leave his ship in the _love port_ long enough, therefore _frustrating_ the keeper of the port.

...............No, writer man, I have nothing against the shipping industry. I just did a little play on words. Hell, you're the one that makes me _soft pedal_ everything anyhow.

.......No, I am not making this shit up. Like I said, their women folks tell me _things_....

Anyway, to the women folk, I say, cut your man a little _slack_ because he does the best he can. _Then again,_ I suppose some could just be laz....

...Shit, at the end of the day, you can do what you want, because you're the one that has to deal with his shortcomings.

I only mention cutting him a little slack because, like I said, I hear things. I know they aren't professionals like I am, but still...Some of the shit is just...

..............Although, I think what saddens me a little, is the fact _they are_ thoroughly convin....

.........Well, no sense hurting a bunch of egos talking about all that. I do have to be careful, after all. Also, I know _your hero_ is a get you done type anyhow.

Plus, I am not here to give the owners of, trick my truck, a _damned plug_.

Mercy, just to please my writer, there were no implications made or implied, when I chose the word _shortcomings_ a moment ago.

He also says mortal men handle their women just fine.

Anyway, all I'm saying _is_ , unlike us working hero's, he doesn't have a dictionary of proper adjectives for getting his love scenes _just right_.

However, I _do_ understand how it might get a _little_ annoying for a woman. If she's almost to the top of the mountain, uh uh oh oh oh oh oh OH OH OOOH _.. uh oh...ahaaa......._ then he misses a stroke, or simply pops his cap.

Writer man says my _oh oh oh_ stuff, was a little overdone...

Plus, he said women _don't need_ someone telling them _how_ all that works. Besides, they know perfectly well how to handle that little, _uh oh_ moment.

Although...I kind of like that _, uh oh_ moment, expression.

_Okay_ , I could have gotten a little carried away with the _ohs uhs_ and all that. I just sometimes get caught up in trying to paint the pic.... Although, I don't know _where_ I might've learned _that_ little concept.

Now... he says I could've went ahead and further antagonized the shipping folks, and just said her ship was running at full steam, and then _suddenly_ ran aground.

There _ya_ go..... He just tries to piss me off...

We will get into all this a little later, but I do understand how the interruption may send you back to level ground and cause a little frustration. If so, just _deal with it_ honey, because he doesn't have a word processor with a delete button, along with a pop up telling him things are fragmented and need to be _rephrased_.

Also, in light of what I learned just today, regarding medication and how it might numb a clit....... a delicate bud of pleasure. Well, if you're a little _less_ sensitive, along with some hacking and sneezing, you might have to cut your hero, a _big_ bunch of slack. Plus, we also have the women folk that are slow climbers. I mean getting them to the mountain top, is like trying to push a _damn_ rope.

Well, there is _also_ the thing with the sick pajamas.

Bed head....

In reality though, I guess it all just depends on how horny their poor fuck is. For all I know, he may close his eyes and mount up, and then ride like a Texas Ranger.

Spurs could be a personal choice, I reckon.

Writer man assures me, mortal women _fully_ understand how to deal with short comings _and_ quick cum....

Actually, he appears to be an authority on all that....So I have to wonder.... I mean you folks must be sensing that too.

Yeah.

However, in all reality, what's done is done and what's cum has cum, so pretty much all the mortal hero can do at that point, is _grunt_ and get a little sleep.

...... I tell you though, sleep _might_ be his only option because from what I hear, a recently softened dick will _slap the spunk_ right out of a mortal fellow.

Writer boy thinks _slapping spunk_ out of a man is _rather_ harsh.

I know mortal folk is sensitive and all that, but it is what it is. Like I said, women tell me _stuff_.

On that note, I'll tell you something else a dick will do, which is in a way, just the opposite of spunk slapping.

...It _might_ even _do it_ to a sensitive man.

I tell you though, b _efore_ it loses its spunk as we mentioned earlier, it can be a powerful thing. I hear it can be so powerful, it will cause a man to sometimes develop _severe_ memory problems.

_Okay_ , okay, writer man. Maybe that _doesn't_ happen to the sensitive men.

Anyway, as some of you may very well know, a hard dick can cause a _regular_ man to forget a lot of things. Well, women might _not_ know about all that, but men know _exactly_ what I am talking about. Well, not the sensitive ones...but...

......Just to make a point, I once heard of a man that had one of those little _memory losing_ episodes. I think regardless of what writer man says. He could have been, just a _little_ sensitive for all we know. My guess is, that he probably _was_. I mean shit, a lot of the women liked him for some reason. I just hope he wasn't _your_ sensitive and _warm_ fellow.

Anyway, I heard he spiked a hard on and caused him too forget he had a wife, along with _another_ sweetie on the side. Then to top it off, I hear he _even_ had a dog named Memory. Plus, he had also just planted his wife _and_ girlfriend, a Forget- me-not flower garden.

....... I tell you what though, sensitive or not, I think he should be _at least_ a little proud. I say that, because I suspect to have such a huge lapse in memory, that must have been _one raging hunk of man flesh_ , don't cha know?

..........Shit, I imagine with such a raging cock, he had to obviously take care and choose strong women, just to handle that thing _safely_.

.....Hell, I figure if it possibly slipped out of their mouth, and they lost hand _grip_ at the same time, it could _easily_ slap a flaming welt on his belly. I know that sounds like a _calamity_ of errors...but...

.......Yes ma'am re...It would no doubt draw a big red line right down the middle of his six pack. Well, it _might be_ a twelve pack, if he managed to retain enough memory to order a few double burgers.

I guess though, if you're reading this, and your man has never popped a welt on his belly, you are evidently a _strong_ woman, or you can safely assume, the _aforementioned_ gentleman wasn't yours.

........I suspect though...... if someone feels they _are_ strong, and also have good lip and hand _grip,_ but still want to _test_ things a little. Well, I reckon the next time you're down there messing around, just turn it loose and see what happens. I guess if it _wobbles_ a little, then just kind of _flops over_ you're pretty safe, I reckon. Also, if he's been out planting forget me knots, don't worry none, that's a pretty common flower I think.

_Okay_ , before I got off on _spunk_ reduction, we were talking about a ship that had run aground.

Anyway, if you can keep him awake, I am sure he will help you find your own way, so to finish what he started. If he don't, like I said already, just deal with it until you get new batteries, or until the separation papers are drawn up all proper.

Bernard, say's women _completely_ understand about all that. He also says most women are sympathetic to the cause, and therefore they are _quick shoot friendly_.

.......Well, _sympathetic_ to the _cause_ sounds a little _dramatic_ to me. I don't reckon were talking about some _major_ military or political _conflict_ here.

However, he worries some men might get offended, because I implied they are _premature ejaculators_ .....or lack sufficient spu...vigor.

To calm him a little... after he told me _what_ all that meant. I told him the above scenario was just a _hypothetical_ situation, and I know the premat...uh... _quick shoots_ seldom or _never_ happen.

_Okay, okay_ , I will clarify for his sake.

I have no doubt _whatsoever_ , _all_ men push their women to the _very_ edge of her orgasmic ability; I was just making a point, that's all. The spunk _shortage_ thing....well, I can't say much about all that. Just a law of the mortal nature, I reckon.

By the way, while I am on a roll with the good stuff, I have some _copper colored_ , gold coins for sale.... if anyone...I mean you can _ignore_ the little one cent stamp. That's just a disguise...

.........Just to further prove, I have nothing against mortal men. Hell, for that matter, being a professional hero isn't all its cracked up to be either. I already mentioned a few pitfalls, but quite often, when the words " _The End_ " are written, the sweet heroines love port may sometimes shift to low tide.

On occasion, even a slight bump or bruise, on perfect hand carved buttocks, can cause her to turn cold......

...Yeah, you read that right.

Like I said, heroines are _just always_ ... I know mortal women aren't that way though.

.....Well, I do hear a few things from their men....but...

.... I _see_ some stuff to....but...

Plus, writer man says I need to play nice...

Hey folks, it happens, female writers especially, seem to love making sweat trickle down the hero's back, and down over those _exquisite_ buttocks. The truth is, if you constantly put sweat and an ass together, you are likely to get the little heat bumps.

Folks, don't get mad at me. That's just the way shit works.

Also, when the words are flowing hot and heavy, the heroine may fawn over the hero's every ache and pain, _especially_ if he was hurt while saving or _defending_ her.

However, when the end comes the fawning may soon turn to, will you _please_ shut the fuck _up_ with your _whining_! I have pretty much, heard _enough_ about how the glare hurt your eyes, when we rode into the sunset!

That, _too,_ was _just an example_ folks. I have _never_ had that happen to me. Although, I _have_ talked with a few heroes, that _were_ booted out of happy land. Well, I also hear about others, who are trying to _escape_ on their own.

Hell, even you, as a reader may experience the same feeling, when your mate whines _constantly_ , and maybe wants you to check out the little red bump on his right nut.

However, if you see _anything else_ going on down there, which might look a little _suspect_ ....

...Writer man is making me mad! I wish he would leave me alone for just one _damned_ minute! But.....he says what's happening down there is personal, and should be left as such.

......... Shit, I was just playing a little, and then he has to chime in.

..........Besides, none of that matters to me. Hell, if someone's dick _swivels up_ , then drops to the floor like a pile of _duck shit_ , then so be it.

After all, you _and_ his momma clearly warned him, about where _not_ to put the little fellow anyway.

_Okay_!...Where not _,_ to put the _big_ fellow.

...........However, to be fair and _once again,_ appease our little typing friend. .......What I described earlier is _not always_ the case in _happy ever after_. Sometimes her love fire _keeps burning_ , while her delicate talented tongue keeps _searching_. His ample cock _stays rigid_ and his strong muscular thighs just _keep on_ thrusting, with a stroke of _true_ orgasmic perfection.

I almost forgot, but yeah, both nuts stay bump free, while his butt cheeks, designed by the goddess of perfection, _always_ hold smooth and strong.

Of course all of the above is tempered with long walks on the beach, along with deep, _meaningful_ conversation. _Lay down woman, big boy horny,_ is _never ever_ heard in happy land. I guess lay down big boy, _little woman horny_ , might be tossed around a little though. I mean, some women can be aggressive...

Just so you know. I have only a few left, so I would like to make... a once in a lifetime, _special offer_ on these coins....

Well, writer man says this is not the time or pl...

Sorry readers, I have a lady dealing with a crisis. I know I shouldn't keep dragging you into this, but I think...

Hello Marie. Where is Charlie and why are you and that strange man running around buck naked?

Oh really? Well... I didn't even know Charlie had been sick much less passed on.

When and how did it...

So this man is the washing machine repairman. But why is he running round and falling over everything?

Well, I am no rocket scientist but I pretty much guessed you were fucking, since you both are buck naked, but why is he stumbling over everything. Did you do something to scare his ass?

Mercy! He looks like he is still ready for action. I hope he don't break that thing when he falls again.

I figured you would agree.

What? Are you serious? You actually, gave him some of Charlie's left over hard on pills?

Well yeah, I think even if he wanted you to double the dose, you should have known better. You're a sexy looking woman and all, so he probably didn't need...

_Oh, you were just hedging your bet. Yeah, I guess it_ _was_ _fun for a while._

Oh?

_I am glad you shared that. As you can guess, I am really glad to hear he fucked you like a keyed up race horse. It's been a little dry spell for me, along with a writer up my ass to boot. So yeah, that certainly makes_ _my_ _day._

_True, they may_ _not_ _have caused Charlie to go blind and deaf, but I reckon those little pills, can and do have different side effects on different folks._

Are you kidding me? You think this is my fault? I don't know why the book made you extra horny. The love scenes were not even hot in that story. The heroine had a bug up...and the damn writer was nuts as Hogan's goat!

... _Plus, I see grape jam on the night stand, and trust me, that has never been mentioned in any of my love scenes._

Well, Charlie may have liked grapes, but this poor soul, hell, he may be allergic to them too.

For goodness sakes, No! I won't catch him and tie him belly up. I have done some shit in my day to appease a woman, but I ain't about to go messing with a blind man sporting a hard on!

I tell you what. You need to call for help before he hurts himself.

I know, I know... the commercials might have said get help if he stays hard for four hours.

Well yeah. Waiting for three hours and fifty nine minutes might be good if he wasn't running around blind.

You have to know he is going to eventually stab something with that thing...

_No! I already told you. I_ _will not_ _tie him up. Plus, it would be dangerous for you._

Now Marie, listen to me! You have to know, if he lives through this, he won't be a happy man when he comes around and has, blue sticky stuff all over his dick. ...Oh, you don't plan on leaving any on there, well...

Mercy me..... Well, I'm back with writer man. I finally convinced her to call for help. So maybe she will eventually get her washing machine running too.

I seldom do any mechanical work. Plus, she already had a perfectly good hard on to keep her busy. She also seemed hell bent on getting the maximum use out of it. I think it has a shelf life of at least another hour or so.

Oh yeah, those sweet little innocent readers.

...........Writer man... I _don't_ know _why_ she likes putting grape jam on.... I guess she just likes licking it off. People just think up shit like that, I reckon.

Anyway, after he pondered for a few on the jam question. He said I was being too harsh, on how mortal men handle their women. He says now a days, women _always_ just tell their man what they want. Plus, their men are much more in tune with their needs now a days.

He acts like I haven't had any in forty years. When I mentioned a dry spell I wasn't talking a decade long drought Just a couple of....hell he pisses me off. I have fuc... talked with more women then he has hair on his head...well... _that's_ not a good example. But hey...I am a romantic hero. I wonder what he thinks I do when I'm working.

_Yeah_ , he knows everything, don't you know?

...... I mean _shit people!_ I was around when women made the move to step up beside their husbands. So he doesn't need to be telling me jack, about how women can ask for what they want.

However, I will relent a little, because like I said, I am always looking to learn more about the ways of regular men. I have learned a lot, but after all, they have collective knowledge dating back to the caveman era. I on the other hand, just a few years in comparison.

Plus writer boy likes it when I say _wimpy shit_ like that.

However, in order to be sensitive toward my gender, I will say, I _meant no_ negative implication regarding carry over from the chest pounding days. So I will retract my earlier remark about _big boy horny._

Just ease on down writer boy. Nothing about _caveman_ style ever crossed my mind. I would never _ever_ imply... I enjoy selling books and all...but I would never...

.........However, I know there are a few men, which might _still_ get a little testy when their woman speaks her mind. Although, I still can never figure out exactly why, some of my mortal counter parts have a problem, admitting their women are equals, and should be walking beside them.

Mercy, I think it's better to have her up there with you, so you can see her. Hell, you don't know what's on her mind, when she's ambling along behind you.

I mean, shit, I don't claim to be a _genius_ but some things are just common _sense_. Mercy, that little piece of knowledge may seem trivial to some. But it might have played a _major_ role in keeping me alive for a century and a half!

_Besides_ , I don't want grape jam on my ass, or a broom handle _surprise_ either.

I'm grinning when I say all this, but I bet the doubters frowned on that one. Honestly though, I have _no_ idea why some men seem to fear the women folk.

While I am thinking on it. Another thing I take exception with and a serious one. Is, the mortal males that for some reason, find a problem with their woman being on top, during love making.

I know, throughout the story I talk about the women on top a lot. Don't get me wrong, I like being on top as well. I think it's just a little phase I am going through. Well, writer man suggested the _phase_ thing, and it sounds good to me. After all, _he is_ the _all_ -knowing one.

Anyway, just think about it fellows. It just makes good sense for her to be up there. For one thing, she is lighter, or you hope she is. I would imagine though, if _she's not_ , certain precautions would _obliviously_ need to be put in place.

Anyway, if safety issues are not a concern, and you have her on top, _you_ have to _do practically_ nothing. Plus, she gets it _just_ like she wants it. After all, throughout the day, she has done everything else on her own, so why should _you_ turn into captain _marvel_ at bed time.

_Well_ , I reckon if you haven't been together very long, she may still think you have a _precise_ plan when you hop up there.

...Oh, just one more thing. Mr. astute has suggested I minimize the use of _any and all_ , of my crude southern expressions. I was just joking around of course. However, with his concern in mind, I will therefore, _fully retract_ , the earlier comment regarding the separation of man and _dick_ in _any_ form, but _especially_ in the form of _duck_ shit.

Besides, he tells me a dick falling off would be stretching things a bit. So, according to him, I reckon a little swelling and redness would be the gist of it.

Well, _now_ our little doctor says you _could_ see a little dripping, but no worry it won't _splat_ to the floor.

Hell, I guess he _really_ thinks he's a fucking doctor. I suppose _everyone_ feels good about _everything_ now.

...........Shit, I suppose if it did fall to the floor, the loss of the best pleasure shaft in town, along with his _shocked face_ would be hard for his woman to bear. I suppose some mourning would be in order, especially if it was _formally_ a welt slapper.

Yes sir re. That could certainly lower the level of cheer, even for the happiest of days.

I believe writer man even conceded a little on that.

I would also think, all that might add another little drop of trauma in an _already_ traumatized world. Yes sir re, a man out trying to plant a few flowers, and there lays his dick in the dirt.

Shit, I suspect a sack of double beacon cheese burgers would be good for comforting him though. I mean, _so what_ if the poor fuck strokes out _now_.

..............What else is he gonna do?

Okay, if eyes are getting misty....I am sorry I _even_ said anything about all that.

Also, I think the cheese burgers, just might have been wishful thinking on my part.

Hell, I don't even know how I ended up here, talking about all this. It has nothing to do with...

...Then again.........well, _maybe_ I just wonder _too much_ about things, but if a dick truly went bad and _just_ _fell off_. I don't know if you should _call_ someone, or just _drag out_ the broom and dust pan.

I suspect though, the broom would suffice, along with a little more mist in the eyes. I guess a few quietly spoken; words of farewell could be in order also.

Yes sir re. _No more_ six pack slapping around these parts.

So, with all the above in mind... well... not so much the cataclysmic events just discussed.

I just meant everything in general.

Anyway, before I wandered off, I was about to tell you, how I'm thinking seriously on taking a much needed vacation, from the life of a professional hero. I think it would be good to take a little break, and learn more about the unsung heroes and what life is like for them. In fact, I have been thinking heavily on taking the vacation... as a _mortal_ man.

Yeah, can you _believe_ that shit?

I also thought learning more about their _lady folk_ might be interesting as well. Well, actually, I've _already_ learned a lot.

Yes sir re.....A lot indeed.

I'll get back on point in a moment, but just so you know, along with the perfect hero, who _on occasion,_ might irritate a mortal man.... Well...folks let me tell you something that really trips my personal trigger. My friends, that little trigger tripper is none other than the... the.... frigging _White Knight!_

I tell you _what_ now.....

Shit, I mean to tell you right here and now, even a _top notch hero_ can be left in the dirt, when those fellows ride into town.

.................Yes sir re.

Mad woman is likely buttering one up for the kill as we speak. Yes sir re. She told me she was going to find her a knight in shining armor. Writer man won't let me say how mad she was when she said all that...but...

.....teeth were _clinched_ and all. Maybe prior to that, an _oh really_ or three just might have been thrown in. Actually.... there was no might to it. I heard 'oh really' a lot! Whoa, don't get me wrong, there had been _no_ memory loss on my part, _nor_ did I go _completely stupid_ and say no thanks, I already had some.

She just....just...

Anyway, with that said, I will also try and get to the truth of that damned Knight issue. I, personally, have never seen such a great man, but maybe I can at least lay eyes on one. If that comes to pass I might even be able to get the real truth and settle that little fantasy once and for all. I suspect writers have just made up a lot of _shit._ They will spout off shit like that in a hurry!

I tell you what, _all that or not_. I am sick of hearing about all the Knight stuff.

........I would be willing to bet, mortal men are fed up too.

Writer man says not to worry about it.

However...knights _just_ piss me off....plus...writers blow so much smoke, I just feel every young damsel should know the truth, good or bad.

Well, I guess a few older damsels, might still keep their porch light on as well.

_Please_ , folks, please, before trembling hands reach out for the meds....

_Just because...._ I said the whole Knight thing thoroughly chaps my ass, even without the sweat, I _am_ _not_ going out looking for _bad_ news. I just fucking think, if the Knight isn't all he is cracked up to be. It would be a damned shame, for a hopeful damsel to wait around, and maybe put off enjoying her little _love tunnel_ to the fullest.

_Okay._..maybe put off enjoying all the amenities of womanly _love and life._

I also worry she might be a little disappointed later, if the _White Knight_ in her dreams has a strong firm armor. Then, the fucker... nice fellow that actually knocks on the door, is standing there all decked out in soft and wrinkled tin foil.

....My goodness, we _don't_ want something like that to happen.

_No, not at all_.

Oh yeah. That would be _such_ a fucking shame.

..... I mean there's even a _chance,_ he could be wearing a _shit eating_ grin as well.....I mean if his armor is weak, he needs something going on. I guess his white stallion _might turn_ a few heads, but...

Hey, folks, it _could_ happen. Well, not to _you_ of course, so slowly place the meds back on to the table. After all, I did promise my writer, casualties would be minimal.

................I think though, if the truth comes out, and all _someone_ is going to get is some middle of the road Knight; you may as well go ahead and give old Stanley, at work, a shot. At _least_ he has a damned job, and after all you _did_ think about it that one time.

The way I heard it...well the way I _surmised_ it. You were drinking, plus you were dealing with that, _nasty_ little dry spell.

Okay, don't admit it then. Just be all secretive and smug. I mean after all, it was at the company Christmas party and all.

Plus, that time of year can sometime make folks feel a little charta....

Also, let me just say, I am very sorry, your _true knight_ flew the coop and all.

I _actually_ didn't know a _knight_ would _do that_ , but shit happens, _I reckon_. I think that too is _such_ a crying shame. Yes sir re. I am absolutely _grief_ stricken.

Huh... seriously folks, who would have _ever_ thought? Hell, I figured once a knight showed up, it was belly slapping bliss ever after. I wonder if anyone else has ever lost _their_ knight. Nah, it was probably just a fluke.

Well anyway, I will shake off my sadness and say, that you very well know, good old Stanley has been thinking about it for years. Shit, in his mind he has probably bent you over his desk a dozen...well, for all we know it might've been a hundred times. Plus, every storage room, and even the picnic table out back, has probably been _fully_ utilized.

....I just happen to know for certain, _mortal women_ have a _very_ fertile imagination, so I suspect the men do as _well_.

Hell, with that in mind. He might bring a few favorite co- workers out to the picnic table, so they can admire his manly _expertise_ while they have lunch.

Just to keep your energy up. He might even ask one of the guest, to offer you a bite of their ham sandwich in between orgasms.

I suspect Stanley is just that kind of guy.

Whoa, writer man....don't _even_ start. There is no love and life involved here. _Lust_ is the one pulling _this_ wagon.

...Hell, writer man, we're just chatting a little...Like I've already said, I just like to think on stuff.

In all honesty though, even with a snack included, Stanley still _may not_ deliver up the real, heavy duty armor, in which you dream about.

......... Although, I _guess_ if the sandwich held quality ham and extra mayo, it could all help toward heading off a slump.

..................I like to add a slice of cheese myself. Maybe a thick slice of vine ripened tomato. I missed breakfast and....

Shit, since you're acting so coy about it, he may have already mounted up and saved the day.

Easy now, readers _and_ writer man, I used _mounted_ in the context of his gleaming white stallion.

Whoa, I forgot Stanley is _not_ a knight, so he may have rode in on a _Shetland pony_.

Well, the little pony may be a stretch, so we should at least bring him in on a donkey.

Sorry, I know some folks love those little pony's...and little hamsters too....

Ah, what to hell, let's go ahead and give him a horse. A donkey would have those floppy ears..... And.... after all, Stanly does see himself as a _real_ chick magnet. Don't you folks agree the flopping ears, could be a little hard on even a solid ego.

Well, hell, you do what you want about all that. I could care less about what happens with Stanley. I mean, so what, if the poor guy can't get laid in a whorehouse, with a pocket full of credit cards.

Well, unless its Christmas and a few drinks were....

My writer is breathing hard and saying I am being _unfair_ to men named _Stanley_.

_I know. I know_ ....I reckon, it's just a flaw in my personality, but stuff just won't stop popping up in my head.

I think though, if I could type a little.....

...... Shit, I don't even _know_ anyone named Stanley, nor why he can't get laid. Hell, I just reckon some men; with _any_ name can _annoy_ the women folk.

............Ah ha, _okay_ ..... _I will fess up_ , and agree, I may not know Stanly _personally_ , but over the years I have seen his type in action.

However........a reader just over the hill in Tennessee, knows _exactly_ who he is. Just a while ago she drew me her way. Then she talked for a moment, but was too shy to talk directly about it all.

I can _sense_ things though.

Yes sir re. When a woman blushes and grins just right. She may as well just raise her hand and yell _me_! _me_! _me_! I _fucked_ the _strange_ guy!

Just so you folks know. I would never be so stupid to imply, suggest or comment on a woman's thighs. I actually thought her hair looked pretty good as well. But even after my solemn promise of absolutely _no_ thigh remarks, _she still_ wouldn't say another word.

Hell her thighs looked nice and firm to me. I bet when she spread them wide, old Stanley probably thought he won the damned lottery....I bet if things had went like Stanley thought they should, even the lunch crowd would have been impressed too.

Oh well, I suspect several other readers, with or without nice thighs, may know of him also.

.................Hell, writer man just won't give it up. He says I can't talk about _some imaginary_ guy. Then, immediately say he can't get laid and a lot of women know him.

................The guy is _not_ imaginary _per say._ In fact he is very real, I reckon. He can be found in almost every office, factory, coffee shop or bar.

Grocery store...

Hell, like I said, almost all women know the guy I speak of.

Shit, some might even go so far, as too call him a pervert at times.

Although, I suspect in _most_ cases he is an okay enough guy, it's just...it's just...... women.... _simply_ _don't like_ his ass.

Well, there was that nasty rumor, regarding a stick of summer sausage in his pants...but...I don't know about all...

I figure though, even if the rumor held merit, he was simply trying to smuggle it out to the picnic table.

A little snack for everyone, I guess... I think that's just being generous.

.....Writer man,..... I tell you wha.......I _doooon't knooow_ why they don't like him. I also don't know why some of them might think he's a damned pervert! I guess though, the sausage thing might have been a clue....

I _know_ .... _I know_ , and I already established the fact, women are sugar and spice and all that nice stuff...

.............Can't you cut me just a little slack here? I was just trying to calm down from thinking on the great Knights. So I was just messing around a little with a reader. Mercy sakes!

Hell, some of the other readers have some good _stuff_ going on, but you won't let me talk about _that_ _stuff_ either.

Sorry folks, I guess he don't care if you folks get re-perked or not.

Therefore, I don't think we need to write a fucking essay on the poor Stanley matter. But I guess Stanley cant get laid, and _it's_ _just_ a guess, but it might be because he goes around, always acting like he's the world's greatest gift to the women folk.

..... Plus, he _always_ goes around acting like he's as horny as a two peckered Billy goat in a damn pepper patch! When in _reality,_ I reckon he just doesn't have what it takes...women can _sense things_ too, I guess.

I mean women don't want to hear how horny a man is, they....

...Huh?....Uh...uh.... I _don't know_ how a goat could end up with two peckers!

........I don't even know where that remark came from. It _probably_ just means someone is _extra_ horny.

No......To my knowledge, I've never even been in a damn pepper patch.

.......I guess maybe some dammed long winded writer; just put that little, figure of speech or off the wall expression in my head somewhere along...

....Well yeah, _but_ if someone says they're hungry enough to _eat a horse_. They _don't grab_ a frigging fork and head for the barn.

Well no, he doesn't _actually_ show up at a woman's house riding a donkey.

Shit, writer man. I already said he could have a _fucking horse_.

It was all hypothetical anyw.......Mercy!

.........A hamster....?

Oh, a hamster has nothing to do with a Shetland pony or anything else....I don't even know what made me think of a hamster. Although, I _do hear_ some of the _non-strange_ mortal folk, enjoy taking one of the little critters up the ass on occasion.

...I tell you what though. I do admit, I enjoy pondering on what gets folks going, but all _that_ hamster _shit_ , is well _above_ my pay grade as a hero. I suppose I should have said, hamsters _and_ shit, since I don't know how far they let the little fellow run.

Sorry folks. I should not have put you through all that Stanley stuff. It was all a bunch of hoopla, all because I was having a little fun with, little tight thighs over in Tennessee.

After all, I'm trying to put together a serious story here....

Okay, okay... I might have been a little crude while playing around. At least writer boy says so. However, miss shy thighs had that, sweet little suthin' drawl going on and all....So I just could _no_ t resist.

Hell, she probably even coached Stanley a little... Yeah, put that fellow right on down hea'. It has _truly_ been a while now, dontcha ya know. This hea lil'ol suthin' girl just needs som...oh.... Yaaaaah... you got it. Okay...uh...okay...move just a little now...yes...uh...uh......

Mercy me!...my _dear_ sweet man...are you done _already_?

................Writer man....I don't know why he just got started... She just said it was over in a flas.... Hell, I guess that could've rushed things a bit, but I didn't ask if she gave him a blow job first.

..............No, she didn't mention if he had welts on his belly or not.

Chapter 4

Jared contemplates a trip to Olde England

Shit, I see another reader, who must have started looking over a copy of her draft. She looks _really_ confused. .......... I believe the mere mention of my existence, must have made her start to question her own...

I better have a look.

Mercy me, my little story was suppose be so damned simple.... But hell, I end up with a crazy assed writer and women out there everywhere, with their arms folded...well _all of them_ aren't folding their...

Plus, we can't forget the special one, who is out there cruising around on her broom.

... _Please......please... you do exist._

... _Oh, okay so you know you exist._

Well pardon me. I was a little pre occupied...so I assumed.

Well, yes, of course I can see you.

No, you are right here and yes, your hand is still there and as you can see, all the fingers open and close just fine.

Whoa, don't panic! Your other hand is right there, it's just behind the fold of the book.

See? There it is...

Wait! You are not even reading my....

...... _Why are you even thinking about me?_

I have a lot of serious shit going on right now...

Oh you thought back on something you read yesterday...

Okay, okay, but since I am already here, go ahead and move the blanket a little and you can see your feet are there as well.

See, just like I said, ten toes and everything.

Yeah, I can see them...

Plus, they all wiggle just like they are supposed to.

Wow, you really can make them wiggle.

Hum? I wonder why the middle one wants to lay over on...

Easy now...Come on, don't worry about it.

I just wonder about stuff. I had no ideal you were self-conscious.....

So what if you can't wear summer sandals, it's not that big of...

Well, yeah, socks on the beach might be a little much.

Hey, you could get a drink named after you though!

Don't cry! It's hardly even noticeable... Besides, I bet your grandma Emma probably had one just like that. I see her picture right there on the dresser, and she looks happy as a clam.

... _.I don't know. I have never tried to fix a toe..._

Hell, maybe you could try a little tape...?

Hold on... That clear stuff won't...I think duct tape would work better. I noticed you have one of your car windows fixed with it already, so there must be some around here someplace.

Whoa! Mercy! What an a..! I didn't know you were...Wrap that blanket back around you! You're bound to catch cold...

...Writer man, I tell you what, this reader thing just isn't....

Sorry folks. That was a false alarm. Although, as a hero you can never really know, what might be happening when a reader invites you....

_Folks_ , you can simply _trust_ my word on that.

That was _one hell_ of an...There was nothing invisible there, I tell ya.

.............. I bet a hamster could run its little heart out...

....I thought she had some _really_ nice eyes though.

Really and truly, bless her heart, but in the whole scheme of things, her toe isn't that _big_ of a deal.

See there Tennessee? I was very nice when talking with a reader. Plus, with writer man making such a fuss, I would like more of the skinny on Stanley.

Maybe if Tennessee decides to pick up a copy of this re-write she will fill me in. I think I could easily convince her, just how nice her thi....

Then again....she may up and fold her arms, all because I have been joking around a little.

Well actually, she may never speak again, but I think all this talking has even made _me_ a little curious, as to exactly why our boy Stanley can't get laid. Plus, writer man is _very_ concerned, as you might very well guess.

Hell, for all we know, a few other women out there might like to know as well. If nothing else, I guess they could at least rest in the comfort of knowing, there is always a _just in case_ supply running about.

Hey! Don't smirk, sometimes when the moon is bright and stars are right, maybe even soft wrinkled armor can be firmed up and straightened. Well, early on, I suspect you might have to jack slap that shit eating grin off his face first...but...

Shit, I bet almost everyone blushed with guilt. Well, I would say, _at least_ two _of the_ three readers.

Well, I could be wrong. After all, I _am_ just a fucking made up character...but still...

Mercy, now our writer is moaning and saying I'm over using the word fuck. He also says, even the ideal of the word might be a little harsh for some readers...

I tell you what folks. I think this guy must've taken part in one of those cryogenics experiments you read about. I believe he might have been frozen in the nineteen forties and just thawed out last week. I mean, the word fuck is as common as rain.

Hell, I think now a days _what to fuck_ , is used more than, what's for super.

........For example, I worked a gig just a little while back. A gig that had me working with a heroine from New Jersey. Eighty percent of her dialogue included the word fuck. Oh fuck! What ta fuck? Ya wanna fuck? Hoollly fuck! Ohooo whaaaata fuck!

Hey, easy now writer man...no bragging here folks, just doing my job. Just doing my job!

I guess though, after listening to her for a few months that could be causing me to say it more. Writer man says I need to learn more about things, but he bitches when I use something I learn. Hell, I was just trying to fit in to the changing world, I reckon, but I will try and be nice. However..., I do kind of like watching the big blood vessel on his forehead swell, when things get a little off key.

Anyway, the _not_ so invisible woman I talked with a little earlier, was actually reading something one of those, _believable_ writers, wrote. Just from a quick glance at the cover, I think it was something about, an _invisibl_ e counterpart from a parallel universe.

Yes sir re. I can _easily see_ how _that_ would be interpreted as the _gospel_ truth.

I don't really think duct tape will fix her toe though. I bet Stanley wouldn't see the toe as a problem anyhow.

Hell, she might even go invisible if he asks. Yeah, I can see some value in all....I suppose if he went off too quick, identifying invisible body parts, could give them something to do. This little nipple went to market. This little nipple stayad home.

Well shit folks, I have a tendency to get off in left field, but I will get back at it.

I sometimes play in a few action stories along with my usual romance gigs. Like I said, I even play a vampire on occasion. Just so you know though, when you folks started getting hot when a vampire sparkles, I gave all that up. I mean there is just _some_ stuff...

My manhood is solid an all...but...

Most often, regardless of whom I portray or go back in time to visit. I just usually prefer to travel back to the mid or late 1800's.

That particular era is where I came into existence, so obviously it's comfortable for me there, and just a short trip away. Therefore, it's easy to understand the hopes and dreams of the folk, and what they were/are up against in daily life.

Admittedly, I am kind of partial to that era, so I often think of just staying there when I travel back. With all that in play, I was tempted to take my vacation there. However, there are many other places that are interesting, and as many of you well know, and some of you _feel..._ my travel abilities are unlimited.

Therefore, there are other stories to be told and as I said, I have been _thinking heavy_ on this whole _White Knight_ thing.

Well, a lot of you folks think heavily on that _as well_ ...but...

In the past, I had _often_ thought I might actually enjoy a hero gig in old England, especially during the time of actual ruling Kings and Queens, along with the _awesome_ Knights. I think there were lords and ladies there as well.....

....... I am not sure what _qualifies_ one to be called a lord or lady but....

However, I had always put off visiting that era, because of the language barrier. I was always concerned my writer might make a _typo_ and have me _yay_ when I was supposed to _nay_ , and I would end up with my damn head missing. Yes sir re, even a hero can't stand up to that kind of shit.

I mean when you're out working and getting things done. Hell you don't know, whether or not the writer _or_ their muse had a bad night or not. I mean if you're following their lead in the least, you can easily blurt out something totally brainless.

However, even _if_ the muse is _all bubbly_ ; there were still some downright _ornery_ folks in that time period.

.....Hell, a bad hair day might piss them off and get you kil...

...Well, my hair always looks pretty good. But still...

I tell you what though; according to what I have read, those people could build some real pain inflicting equipment. _Then_ , spike a good solid hard on when they used it.

I know, I know. Some of you may get excited, when you think about pain and a hard on, but trust me, when those folks cranked up their equipment, orgasms _weren't_ the intended result.

Well, the operator might've had one, but _you_ would be pretty much _fucked_.

......Well, _not_ fucked, just dead. So no perking here, my sweet little friends.

Oops, there goes _the_ word, rearing its ugly head again. I _will_ cut back though.

Also, from what I've heard, even if you were lucky and get to _keep_ your head, getting the hands or maybe even you're tongue chopped off was just common stuff. I think though, _chopped_ might have been mild treatment for a tongue. I believe they preferred to just rip it out. I mean anyone, probably knows that _can't_ be a good thing.

...........I suspect it would be hard to get a firm grip on a tongue for yanking, so I guess they developed some sort of tongue ripper...I suspect for the folks who can lick their eya brows, a good firm grip might be possible.

.......Plus, without hands or a tongue, how the hell are you going to warm up a steaming love blossom?

I mean this is sad to think about, but I know you folks believe life is all about love and companionship. Well, good meaningful conversation also. I suppose zeroing in on your soul mate early on, would be good as well.

However,...for _me_ , if any major equipment is lost or damaged, for all practical purposes, I may as well take down my shingle as a humble romance hero. Cause.... I don't give a _flying rat's ass_ what you folks _say_. You _ain't....._ you just ain't _gonna_ read no romance story about some, handless, tongueless, or worse a dickless hero.

Hell, a hero might could still be _a little_ female friendly, I guess. But that's about all it would amount to.

Shit, I suppose if all that shit happened to your _personal_ hero. I think it could very well _rip_ the soul out of a soul mate.

_So_ , are you starting to _appreciate_ my concern? At least a little bit?

....... I guess though, there might be an outside chance; a tongue or hand _challenged_ hero, could stumble around and maybe catch a gig with a heroine with a foot fetish. One that likes her little _love nest_ warmed up, with a big toe or some shit like that. Maybe even one with a deep love for giving head might score you a job.

That is, _if_ his dick didn't already scored a date with the dust pan.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mean to even _imply_ , that I don't take one of those head jobs, _even_ when things are _good_. Hell, I guess the toe thing could be taken into consider...

...........Although, I suspect a man could easily end up with a gnawed up cock. As you well know, without a tongue, his once gravelly manly voice, would be reduced to a grunt, so a woman could easily mistake _Oh, Oh_ for _Go GO_!

Yes sir re bob, danger lurks at every turn. I know _you_ folks don't see it...but...

Shit, maybe the goat with two peckers had it going on after all. Maybe our goat was packing a spare, because his ancestors originated in old England, and they could _sense_ shit too.

Yes sir re. I tell you what. I'm glad we are writing some of this stuff down.

Chapter Four

Jared meets a White Knight

Although, after much deliberation. I was pretty sure I was going to make the trip to jolly old England. However, I needed it make it _clear_ to my writer, that it would _only_ be as a vacation of sorts. I am after all a free man now, but I just wanted to confirm, I would be in control of my own destiny. Then, I would _or_ could _not_ be jerked around and put in danger, by every single whelm of a _key board jockey_.

Oh yeah. I guess it's pretty much the point of the story, but when I say a _free man_. I am referring to how I no longer have to just follow the words of a crazy writer. I say that because some of you... Well some of you _still_ think I am a _just_ a made up charac.....

...That shit _still_ makes me mad!

_Well,_ I'm free from the mad woman also. I suspect that's pretty obvious, but I just wanted to clear up the _other_ thing.

I already mentioned some of my fears in regards to old England. However, after a little more consideration I finally made a firm decision to make the trip. But only, and I mean, only, after a contract was signed with my writer, stating it was a research or vacation type thing. Plus, he is/was to write, _only_ what I verbalize in _person_ or _telepath_ to him.

Once I had all that in place, I felt like I could be in _full control_ of things.

I know everyone might think I am being overly cautious, with the contract and all. However _time travel_ , as you folks call it, can often times be tricky. A writer could easily get ticked, then try and pull me into a dangerous situation

Well actually, as I said and as you can see, I am powerful enough to _totally_ dictate to the writer, but there is _still_ an element of risk.

Like I said, earlier, you just never know what a writer might see, or how the birds are singing outside their window. Just so _you know_ , there can be huge, I mean _huge,_ mood shifts, between ravens and sparrows and heaven forbid, _buzzard_ s. Plus, if you add in a few shots of jack.....Yes sir re, a sparrow can become a falcon in a heartbeat. Well, you folks know exactly how that works.

Hell, for all I know, their muse could be all pilled up, and be seeing a lot of shit, _without_ even looking out the window.

I will try and just be a moment, but speaking of mood shifts. If as a hero, you end up signing on with a writer, and they get a little _out there_ on just a _simple_ mood shift. I tell you what, it can often be interesting, to say the least.

Also, some writers may tend run a little on the low side. However, a little depression in a writer can usually be easy enough to fix. Well, that's _assuming_ they don't have suicidal tendencies and try _jumping_ you off a bridge.

Anyway, to the readers favor, my heroine and I can usually help to edit in what's happening along the way. No hero or heroine wants to send out a blotched love scene, so we also help a little after the writer throws up his/her hands, and writes _ten toes up_ and _ten toes down._

All that would certainly make for some _perky_ stuff, don't you think.

So there you go. I think everyone should say thank you.

Well, if the sweet writer is off the meds and ends up in a strait-jacket, things might be delayed a bit.

I tell you what though, there are few things I enjoy more than messing with a little writer. Yeah, just let them get all pumped while the words are flowing fast and free. Then, just suddenly hop over in left field.

Well obviously, since I am after all a _romantic hero,_ there are several things I enjoy a _little_ more than that.

However, messing with a writer can be even better, if you end up working with a heroine, who has a sense of humor too. I tell you what; between the two of us we can have a writer scratching their head. Well, it's usually _worse_ than _head_ scratching, but for writer man's sake, I'll be gentle.

I say that, because _every fifteen frigging minutes_ , I have to assure him I won't get in his head during the off hours. Well, out of the, _creative space_ , as he calls it.

In all honesty, that's an easy assurance to give, since I don't think any of us _really_ want to know, a whole lot about all that. A skinny man hanging on the wall naked, with a purple bowtie on his balls....nah...

Although, I suspect, somebody, somewhere, somehow, might get cranked...but nah...

Some things, just _don't_ need to be _written down_.

No sir re.

However, as I started to say earlier, a writer with _drastic_ mood swings can be dangerous for everybody involved. That is true _even if_ their muse _isn't_ hallucinating. Well, there is no danger for _you_ the reader of course. I am talking about danger for my little honey and I, who are out there simply trying to do our job.

I suspect for mortal folks, there can be many reasons for changing moods. I guess it all boils down to trauma from years past. Here again I'm not a shrink, so just for conversation, we'll say the writer is recently divorced or separated. Maybe even still a little _put out_ over the fact, their personal hero/heroine went and jumped the fence. I guess it _could_ have been a knight that jumped. He does have that fancy white stallion and all. Shit, I bet he could scale a ten foot hurdle as easy as pie.

I know you folks love happy ever after. But sometimes that fence jumping shit happens. I reckon some folks just get a hankering one day, then want to go see, or feel what's lurking under a new set of armor. Shit, I _don't_ know, maybe their old armor got rusty or turned into tin foil.

.......Writer man....I know men get a hankering for what's under a new little skirt as well. I was just talking earlier about the knight and armor thing so... Mercy sakes....

Okay, okay, in order to get a lead in on the next few paragraphs, I might have stretched things just a little. Please, just put down the meds, since we all know perfectly well, a knight's armor _never_ gets rusty and his stallion _never_ jumps any fences.

I hope with that clarification, everyone has taken a deep breath and feels fairly stable.

Well, for whatever reasons the swing occurs, like I said; it can be an interesting trip for a hero and his heroine.

_Oh yeah_ , just so the _men folk_ can rest easy, and hopefully feel good about everything. In the upcoming scenario, _please know_ my lover and I have already had some good conversations. A lot of foreplay is behind us as well...

Okay, here we go. The writer is all mused up, and the words are flowing soft and sweet. Maybe a few sips of jack have been in the mix, so to momentarily take the edge off of recent events.

My beautiful lover and I are on a blanket, listening to the gentle flow of the nearby river as its sparkling waters drift slowly by. Birds in the surrounding forest recite to us a special melody; a melody composed of nature's sweet and simple love songs. All the while, the lovely woman I hold in my arms is truly, giving up to me her all.

Her body moves in perfect harmony with mine, while her hot flowing wetness offers silky smooth passage, for each deep and steady stroke of my rigid steel.

All the while, I enjoy the feel of her and take in her quiet beauty, a soft cooling breeze, a breeze laden heavy with the smell of honeysuckle and new cut hay, brushes lightly against our heated skin.

Taking note of the steady breeze and how it feels against my skin. I slow my movements, and almost fully withdraw each stroke, so the breeze can touch and cool the wetness that covers my full length.

Her eyes search mine, when she senses the change in sensation. I see a pleasure filled look of understanding when she realizes what I'm doing. So to fully absorb the moment, she draws up her legs slightly, and turns her head aside and closes her eyes. While she savors each sensation, she just lies still, so to allow my length complete freedom to slowly glide in and out of her.

After a while, she looks back at me, and the pleasure I see in her lovely green eyes, the building tension in her withering body, tells me her passions will soon yield up too me her sweet surrender. The sheer sight of her beauty before me, along with her hurried breath, the unspoken words of pleasure filling her eyes, all blends in sweet harmony to bring up my own des.....

......Whoa!....... What!......Shit!....... A grizzly bear?

My first instinct, of course, is to get the gorgeous the naked slut to safety, before her pleasure takes hold and she loses all focus...before she starts cumming like a bitch in heat, then gets what's coming to her!

Her beautiful.... shifty, man stealing eyes, reflect immediate shock. when I suddenly withdraw my throbbing rod of heated steel from within her. When, I suddenly jerk my little pencil dick out of the bitch.

After I quickly lift her in my arms, she finally sees the bear. Her full inviting... thin pale lips tense for a blood curdling scream, as I carry her lithe body.... lug her big ass toward the nearest tree.

When I have lifted her to safety, I suddenly grow more concerned for my own life when I see another bear. No! _Two_ more, _big fucking_ bears and they're heading my way and fast too!

Now, I have the naked, conniving tramp in the tree. Screaming her fucking head off. With three, hungry and angry grizzly's on my trail.

When I decide to make a naked, dick swinging dash for the river. The damn bears are so close, I can feel their heated breath on my expertly carved buttocks. I can feel their heated breath on my boney, pimpled ass.

Once I am at the river's edge, I quickly dive in and luckily hit deep water. I turn back toward the shore, only to see the bears quickly turn and scurry away. The departing of the bears allows me relax a little. I also took some solace in the fact; I didn't hit a rock when I dived in.

I decide my luck might just be changing. Plus, the picture of heavens sweet beauty... home wrecking whore, hanging in the tree has shut the _fuck_ up!

Then suddenly, I hear, and then see, why the bears decided to cut a trail. No one can say for sure, I guess......hell no one may ever really know........., but simple logic says the two story high wall of water moving my way, was obviously caused by a huge dam break somewhere up river.......

Anyway, you get the point.

Also, just so you know, even if you survive all that. A few grizzlies, cold water and fear, can certainly remove the temper from a _rigid_ shaft of man _steel_.

So there ya go. Mood swings ain't a pretty sight!

Yes sir re, you folk thought hero stuff was all _peaches_ and _strawberry ic_ e _cream_.

Okay, back on track. After a little research, I decided I would make the trip; maybe a year or so before King Edward II started a scrap with Scotland. Although, I hoped to steer clear of as much political chaos as possible, I knew I might be forced to witness at least _some_ fighting.

_Especially_ , since the folks back then, just seemed to spike a hard on, if there was a little burning and pillaging to be done. I surmised though, with all that going on, it would be the perfect place to drop in on a Knight in Shining armor, and see him getting it done.

Notice, I said getting i _t_ done. I figured it would be awhile before I might learn more of his, awesome, splendid, breath taking, superb, talents, of getting _her_ done.

Yes sir re....dick 'em deep, my metal covered friends.

I suppose I should have added in _marvelous_ and _fabulous_ , but I don't think a _man_ should be tossing those words around too often, _even_ if he graduated with honors from sensitive school.

...........Yes sir re. The mad cowgirl said she wanted her true knight. I tell you what...that shining fucker may be at my house right now, and be all stretched out on my couch...

I can tell him one thing though. He better get some damn rest or that woman will eat him for lunch. I mean she is familiar with the best... Well, writer fellow will probably smite me for sounding all cocky...but still...

As I said before, I just thought it would be good to see for myself, if the afore mentioned Knight was truly worthy of the undying adoration he receives from the women folk.

I am talking about _adoration_ so strong; it even lingers to this modern day.

Yes sir re. You mortal folks are so finicky and fad driven. Hell, I bet you quit eating beacon cheese burgers pretty soon. Then, I'll have to go back to eating chicken fried steak.

But I tell ya what. This knight thing, just keeps _on uh_ keeping on!

I mean chicken fried steak is good and all. With lots of mashed potatoes, gravy....homemade biscuits and....well, those canned ones that blow up in your hand can be pretty decent....

I still wonder how they get those things in ther.....

....Well hell...

Don't get me wrong, I know, reading and thinking about a tall, _handsome hero_ may inspire a few nipples to grow rigid, maybe even slippery up a love bud or two.

Like I said before, the dashing hero may _even_ encourage a finger, to embark on a mission of search and explore. However, when the wine glass goes empty and the exploration _cums_ to an end, the nipples soon go soft, and the _humble hero_ is soon forgotten.

Well, all that sounded a little..uh.. writterish...but you get the ideal. Actually, I think I summed all that up pretty damn go...

Yeah, I am glad were _writing this down_.

However............... I tell you folks, this damned Knight thing...well...as I said, it just _keeps_ fucking hanging around!

I don't mean to make it sound like I hold any real animosity toward, _Mr. Perfection_. I just want to confirm the son of a bitch _gallant fellow_ is all he is touted to be.

Hell, I need to also confirm he can take care of my horse. Plus, his armor may have already damaged my couch.

I know I'm sounding a little pissed....!

But still.....

Hell, I just bought that couch at a yard sale. Its _extra_ long and all...

Shit, I think _even_ you knight _loving folks_ would _readily_ agree, if the fucker is at _my_ house; he needs to _at least_ feed my damn horse.

........The fucking grass probably needs cut too.

.........He may as well, crank his brains out like I do, while trying to get my damn worthless weed eater started too.

.......Yes sir re, all that shit will reduce his damn _spunk_ level.

Okay, let me get back on track. As I alluded to before, I think the average Joe has enough to contend with, just trying to live up to what, talk shows and magazines think he ought to be. So he certainly _doesn't_ need the _added stress_ of some ancient _character_ dressed in a metal suit, always looming over his ass.

Plus, you can't forget about all of us romantic heroes, running about. I mean we can be dangerous to the common man, even if we do, on occasion get trumped by that _fucking,_ ever present white knight!

Okay, okay, I am mad and starting to _repeat_ myself. I _am_ sorry!

Well, I'm really not _all_ that sorry. I just thought that sorry stuff sounded good. I just think a man needs to say what's on his mind, especially when his woman pisses him off.

Anyway, I knew there had to be thousands of those sons of brave fellows out fighting battles. I guess, all the while, they are saving beautiful damsels, maybe even slaying a dragon now and again.

..........However, I had read King Edward II was a switch hitter and a little partial to one or two of his Knights. I figured that would get a little touchy, so I hoped like hell I didn't end up finding one of _his_ sweeties.

I mean hell; you have to _know_ that would _not_ end well.

What can I say? I guess a lot men dream and wait for their Knighttress as well.

_Okay_ , relax writer man, I know "knighttress" ain't no word, but just leave it alone!

Leave _writerish_ alone too! I like the sound of that.

However, _even if_ my couch is damaged and horse _is_ hungry, I still felt I should give the Knights a fair shake. So in order to get the fairest assessment possible, I just went in search of any random Knight, who might be moving about in the area of Plymouth, England in the early 1300s.

When everything was set, I finally made my silent entrance.

I felt pretty lucky and ended up well hidden in a grove of trees. I again felt lucky, when I soon saw my selected charge moving toward me on the winding dirt road. I expected him to be sitting tall in the saddle, but he was _actually walking_ and leading his horse.

Writer man says we need to get back to reader interviews. I think not. I want to _at least_ introduce everyone to a great, living and breathing, white knight. _Then,_ we will get back to talking about me, _just being some imaginary fucke..._

To tell you the truth, I don't think me sitting around, and listing to readers makes a bit a damn sense...I think he just likes.....

.......Anyway, while the knight approached, I took a moment to catch my breath and take a quick overview of myself. I wanted to make _damn sure_ I had chosen the correct wardrobe for the era. Even though the selected knight is looking all brave and shit in his metal suit. I figured a football jersey and sunglasses could still perplex the old boy a little.

To be honest...I almost wore my hat. There is just _some stuff_ a man _needs_.

Just so _everyone knows_ and understands. Had, I been on this mission and working as a regular hero. Well, I just said _regular_ for writer boy. But anyway, I would have been dressed in the _manliest attire_ possible, and no doubt riding a prancing stallion as well.

Truthfully, the clothing a lot of the men wore in this/that era all looked a little _suspect_ to me. So I might have required my writer, to give my stallion a little _side step_ with his prance. I just think it looks _a little snazzy_ when they do that. Plus, you have to sit a little taller in the saddle for _full_ effect. I guess all that might help a little, to offset _my_ nice ruffled _skirt_.

After all you just _never_ know when a _damsel_ might be _watching._

However, today I am on foot and dressed as a common peasant. After all, I certainly didn't want to clash with the super fucking hero.... gentleman I was about to meet.

....... I mean hell, you folks very well know, when _two_ self -respecting heroes get together, dick length often becomes a veiled concern between them. _Then_ , sooner or later the _shit_ will hit the fan. Well, the approaching gentleman is after all a knight, and _obviously_ out ranks some _imaginary fuck_....but still...

Anyway, this mission was _important_ to me. So I figured I would willingly let the Knight _assume_ , he was the man who was packing all the heat.

......And yes, you read the earlier line right, when I said I was currently dressed like a peasant. Oh yeah, green _tights_ and some mighty _strange_ looking shoes. Yes sir re...The lady folk _will_ ... well...I don't know _what to hell_ they'll do.

I suspect though, in a get up like this, even a handsome hero might stumble a little...I tell you what though. If I hear someone, _even remotely_ make a reference to me in some old English version of _Stanley_ ..... Shit, Knight Boy can have my couch, and all the _damsels in waiting_ can whack off until the end of time, cause... I'm _outa_ here!

With one last glance at my clothing, all seemed to be in order, so I stepped onto the road to greet, the man with the _shining armor._

Yes sir re _._

Well hell. My writer insisted as a disclaimer of sorts, this all must be said before the story continues. As you know he loves worrying, and now he worries we might say something that would discourage some damsels, who might be sitting and waiting for her perfect Knight.

Damn, I said that like it was something new. Hell, I have spent more time clarifying, and then _clarifying_ the clarified, than telling my story.

So again, to fucking _clarify_ , I will say, I know there are many _gallant Knights_ who are serving with honor, defending chivalry and the like. Yes sir re.

Therefore, _if_ you are _a woman_ looking for _such_ a man, I have no doubt. Yes, no doubt one of the _perfect ones_ will find you in the _very_ near future.

Hell, I got one riding down the road toward me...but I have to do this damn disclaimer. I bet if the _lady folk_ could see what I see, they would have to _change panties three times_ , before he even _gets_ close.

Well, three times might be a stretch. Maybe it's just twice. The third and the last time, they just leave them off and throw them in his path.

_Okay easy now_ , writer man...

I must also add. I feel _extremely_ good about the fact, that when he _does_ find you, your life will simply be _complete_. He _will_ , as you _certainly_ would expect, be _tall and handsome_ , warm and sensitive, yet strong and decisive and _quickly_ vanquish your every foe.

The _foe_ thing is writerish stuff. Bottom _line_ ladies _,_ he will kick some ass if someone messes with ya.

Anyway....moonlight kisses on the beach and walks in the rain will _always_ and _forever_ be yours. I _fully_ trust he will _always_ keep that sweet little love pot set on _simmer_. So, with that in mind, you have to _just know_ , mind blowing orgasms will _always_ and _forever_ be yours.

Yes sir re ladies, he _is_ on his way.

Oh yeah, just one more thing. In order to further assure no dreams are dampened, I will add this. _If,_ in the event I am forced to say _or imply_ , something that _you're_ Knight, or envisioned Knight would never be, or do. I will always try and give a _detailed_ description of the event. That way you can rest within the comfort of knowing, the man described is probably for someone else.

.....I actually think I did a pretty good job, when I came up with a fool proof test method to relieve all worries, regarding the six pack slapper. Therefore, I think we can breeze right through this without causing any major trauma.

Who knows, the mediocre Knight, I might be _forced_ to describe, may actually belong to the woman that works three cubicles down from you...... _After all_ , you do say she looks to be a little shy and mousy.

Ha ha.... Be still, be still... my beating heart! I just had one helluva of a thought!

...Of course, my writer won't like this, but..... Yeah....yeah, it might be pretty interesting, if the mousy chick _did_ by chance end up with _your_ _awesome Knight_.

Just picture this for the sweet little mousy chick. There is seldom a need for her to finish a sentence, because he is so in tune with her _every_ thought. She is suddenly holding hands and strolling _barefoo_ t in the rain.

_Please folks_ , just keep in mind I am just a rough around the edges hero. So with that in mind, I am fully aware the knight would go _well_ beyond anything a lowly hero could _possibly_ define.

Anyway,.....Then, they are walking hand in hand along the seashore...I think I might be repeating myself, but I'm just trying to cover all the basic 'Knightly' stuff here.

After she pats away his tears from yat another emotional sunset, they _unanimously agree_ to stay for a while longer, so to share _moonlight kisses_ by the sea.

Yes sire re, y _our_ knight in action. Remember, I'm just winging it here.

........It's just a suspicion, but I would say the odds are good they have a dog along as well. Most likely a handsome golden retriever and he, too, is simply loving life. You can see it in his every expression, as he frolics along on the water's edge, happily chasing a thrown.......

_Okay_ ...writer man...I thought that was all pretty good stuff though. Hell, I don't hold much with his tears but other than that, I think he's a decent enough guy.

Well, actually he makes me sick, but...

Anyway, as you well know, I could go on, and on, and on a little more. However, I think, even if you exclude all those standard knightly _things_. Just the mind blowing orgasms alone would have _her_ rushing off to the doctor. I mean, she'll _definitely_ have to _know_ , just _what to hell_ happened down there, that would cause her hot little love nest to _suddenly go berserk._

Nope..., our writer didn't like the mousy chick comment. He said it might imply, mousy chicks didn't normally enjoy or get a lot of orgasms. So please bear with me, _again_ , while _more clarification_ is given.

Also, I promise we will meet a knight very soon. So please, just let things simmer for a moment. Well, since the great introduction will be soon. I suppose everyone _could_ go ahead and set their nipples to pre-perk. Maybe practice ripping your panties off or something.

...........But... just _so_ everyone _knows_ ...... I _don't_ have anything at all against shy and mousy women. I have _no doubt_ they enjoy orgasms along with everyone else. All I was saying was, _if_ she, or anyone _else_ for that matter, has just been clicking along, with those little poppers, the ones that more or less just signal the deed is done.

Someone out there might even be familiar with those.

Well, for some folks, they might be strong enough to cause a little body twitch. But shit, _even_ some of those little fellows, for all we know, could _possibly_ be _self -_ induced.

Well, if that should be the case. Then you can _certainly_ imagine what would happen, if she ended up in the arms of some awesome Knight, with his magic touch and all.

So, that, is _all_ and _all_ I _meant_ when I said, things might go fucking berserk.

(Big thoughtful grin)

I still like the ideal of her getting _your_ knight though. In fact...oh yeah... I just happen to know a few things, and I didn't have to travel very far to learn them. Actually, just this morning, I picked up some news, and a good cup of coffee to boot.

_Please everyone_. I know _your_ knight is perfectly fine. He probably already has you locked in his stallion's G.P.S.

So just know for a _little while_ here, when I make reference to, _your_ _Knight._ I am only referring to _one_ special lady and _her knight_.

Plus, panties cost money so it might be good to pull back on the ripping anyway. Well hell, rip one more pair. Those blue ones have been around a while anyway. Okay...go ahead and do the pair that says Friday. I hear you already lost Thursdays and Saturdays anyhow.

Easy now folks. I was kidding a little. I know everyone's panties are right where they are supposed to be. Writer man is also whining and complaining, because I am thoroughly screwing up his new outline for the re-write. Plus, everyone is excited about reading more of the original story, so they can meet a real Knight.

.......Oh well, he is breathing in his little paper bag, so I _reckon_ he'll pull through.

_Okay_ , so all in all, it _might not_ be such _a bad thing_ for her to end up in the arms of your Knight. Well, _you_ might not think so. But anyway, I do imagine he might even take a little extra time with her, if she's truly as shy as you _suggest_.

Yeah, hmm... Just water your horse writer man. Close that top drawer a few more times or something. Oh, when you get the drawer closed all proper. I moved the picture over there a little too.

Anyway, let's just see how things might go for this shy little lady, if she is suddenly put in capable hands.

After an evening of enjoying the sunset and moonlight kisses, I mentioned earlier, the lovers finally return home.

I added that, just so the men folks could again be comforted by the knowledge, some _romance and foreplay_ , had already taken place. I know all that stuff gets time consuming for you ladies but....

Anyway, when their arms bring them close, he senses it's been a while since she has felt the touch of a man. His eyes and senses read her every expression, offering her tender kisses and slow encouraging touches, until her body and mind feels secure in the moment. Oh yes, I am talking about those experienced touches, the ones that well define the _difference_ between a _rub_ and a lovers _sensual_ caress. Where, just the brush of a _light_ palm and fingertips can set soft delicate skin to tingle.

Well, all men, and some of you ladies probably know exactly what I mean.

When he finally moves her back and prepares to make love to her. He wants to take his time with her, so he positions his body so he carries all his weight. Still sensing a slight tension within her, he slows back a bit and takes his hand and guides the head of his cock so to just separate her waiting lips. Soft kisses brush over her face, while his slow up and down movements just inside her moist folds, lets her sense the gentle and unhurried touch of him.

A quick intake of her breath confirms for him her anticipation, when the smooth tip brushes against her slippery bud.

When he feels her responding and feels the smooth wetness covering the swollen head, he knows her body is ready. Once he starts to enter her, his eyes hold hers as inch by inch his slow back and forth movement, allows her body to accept and adjust to the size of him. His every sense as a male is on high as he feels the special warmth of his woman surround him. All the while, her silky flow of wet offers him smooth passage, as his hard length slowly searches for more of her with each stroke.

When she has accepted all of him. He pauses for a moment, and allows her to feel a slight weight from his hips pressing against her. Soft kisses again touch her face and neck as she holds all of him inside her. With this pause, he savors every caress of her soft moist heat that is surrounding him. He also wants her to have this moment, so to fully absorb the emotional and physical unity between them.

While their eyes reflect the emotions of the moments, he starts to move again. His arms hold her to him, as gentle kisses continue to brush over her face. As he takes and gives pleasure, he understands the _complexities_ of the special _being_ he now holds within his arms. He knows she is willingly allowing the strength of him, to subdue and share with her the pleasures her body can offer. But he also knows, the pleasure she receives and returns to him will _only_ fulfill a part of who _she is_.

With the deep love he feels for her, he seeks to touch and _claim all_ that _she is_ , so he knows he must fully convey to her, his desire to claim her heart and mind, along with her body.

Quiet whispers encourage her, as his slow and deliberate full length strokes searches and entices the very depths of her. As his lips find hers he takes pleasure in the feel of her breast against his chest. Lifting slightly he allows just the tip of her rock hard nipples to brush lightly against his chest.

While he savors the feel of her, every look, every movement, every whisper is designed to bring her up slowly, allowing her mind, body and soul the time to find harmony with his own.

While she looks up at him, the beauty in her arousal tinted eyes whispers to him in unspoken words. Words that tell to him of her every emotion and sensation felt while two are united and now living and breathing as one. A feeling, _only_ a _true_ Knight can know and _fully_ understand.

As the lovers surrender all to their moments of sweet unity, time seems to stand still. However, when he hears her breath come more rapid and feels the tension firming her body. He knows the sweet harmony of mind and body is upon her, and will soon overwhelm her every emotion. He cradles her upper body more firmly within the strength of his arms, so to draw her closer against him, as he escorts her over the edge.

He continues to hold her tight, offering her love and sanctuary within the safety of his arms, while her mind and body slips further away to find a place of true satisfaction. A place where only she can truly know and understand. A place where indescribable pleasures possess her body, and untold emotions holds her heart. While the ecstasy tenses every muscle and steals her breath away, he pauses and holds his length firmly within her, so to enhance her moment instead of distract.

His arms continue to secure her, while the consuming pleasure locks her fully within its grasp and holds her there. His arms and the sheer ecstasy of body and mind, hold her so completely, she starts to wonder if it's ever going to release her and give life's breath back to her.

Well hell, Bernard is getting a little squirmy writing all this. So I best change the subject so he can cool down a little, and we can get on with the story.

But really now, don't you folks think that should _clearly_ prove. I believe mousy chicks _can_ get it done.

Well, in the right hands, of course.

As you might guess, the little writer downed his last swig of his cold morning coffee cup and _still_ seems _un_ happy. He says the love scene I just described is ridiculous. Mortal women, don't _even like_ that kind of stuff.

I told him it might have been a little slow for some...

Then, he said most women would trip over a man like I described, while trying to get to a bad boy that would slap them around a little.

I will admit, _that remark_ , made right out of the _blue_ took me back a little. Then I started to wonder who might have licked the red off _his_ candy. He has a pretty decent looking lady friend, well, for a guy named Bernard I guess.

So..... I had to wonder if _she too_ , might be dreaming of a metal clad...

Anyway, I told him, I didn't know about the slapping around, but the rest seemed true for many of the women folk, and it always would be.

I suppose women want a man that's always in high demand. However, when a man, or woman for that matter, is in high demand, they don't hold much reverence for their current partner. Why should they, when someone else will eagerly pick up the slack. Although, I don't reckon any of that's news. Hell, everyone knows how that works. I suspect greener pastures have been growing since time was set in motion.

I reckon all that's just a little hold over from the mortal caveman/cavewoman days. I suppose back then clinging to the strongest and fittest made sense. However, with _very few_ mammoths or pterodactyls around to smite for protection or food, it just makes for a lot of sad and confused folks.

Hey...I personally think all _that_ is a _good_ thing. I am glad women want the men, fourteen of their counterparts also want. Hell, if _all_ women lived in a state of knightly bliss. I would _for real_ be some imaginary character...if even _that much_ of me existed.

I reckon it pretty much sucks for the Stanley's of the world, but hey!

Shit, all that's above my pay grade anyway. So I need to shut _my own self_ up about all that.

However..... I assured him, over my long life I had met a lot mortal women, who seemed to grasp the _previously_ described concept of lovemaking, and grasp it _very_ well.

Plus, what I just described was only part of what can happen, when two _real lovers_ truly connect.

He said some _full of shit_ writer, just told me all that stuff.

Whoa, well pardon me sir. _Writers_ would _never ever_ mislead...

Oh yeah folks! I have _no_ doubt; there will be a white stallion parked in his driveway, very soon.

Therefore, I will keep an ear to the ground and let you know

Then I told him, the writer thing was probably true to a point. However, once I was up to speed on the concept, it was just the opposite. I've actually tried to teach a little of that, so they _won't be_ so full of shit.

I mean, at the end of the day they don't have to _learn_ much, in order to beat the preverbal, ten toes up and ten down.

Chapter Five

The White Knight

The year was 1313 and Bartholomew McGregor was having one _helluva_ of a day. I was to learn later, his trusty steed, Grover, had stepped on a stone, causing him to stumble, thus sending Bartholomew flying over his head, and on to the ground.

He also told me later, that all his friends just called him Bart.

Well, Bart was trying to walk tall but I could easily see. Walking and leading a limping stallion, was making it extremely hard to feel confident as a brave Knight.

I decided then and there, it was a good thing I dressed down so not have further antagonized his day _or_ ego.

When he was closer, I could see he had removed his Visor and Basinet, or basically his helmet. I guessed him to be around thirty years of age. He also looked to be around six feet tall, so he would pass the required height of a classic hero, so I was glad of that fact.

His eyes were deep blue and could have very well been piercing at one time. However, one of them might have gotten pierced by a sword, because one always seemed to look in the opposite direction of the other.

I mean he still has a nice suit and all. He is tall too. I don't even care, but he probably has butt cheeks so firm and perfect, you would think they were hand chiseled, from a stone taken from the wall of the king's castle.

Also, the eya injury might have been from an armor failure somewhere along the way, so I figure we can look over a battle scare or two.

After all, he was likely putting his life on the line and saving a distressed damsel anyway. I mean, you have to know there were flaming arrows everywhere. Plus, she was probably dangling from the highest, and most arrows exposed window of the castle.

I suspect damsels are pretty much like heroines, and we well know they are _just always_ ...

I say that, because even I, your _basic_ hero can get into some _deep shit_ saving a heroine. So you have to know these awesome fellows, would be facing _danger_ that is probably _multiplied_ tenfold or more.

Along the same line of thought, the one eya _could_ have been damaged by a severe burn. Although, I _don't_ think your average, fire breathing dragon could belch with that kind of accuracy, but hell you never know.

Oh yes, those awesome dragons...hum....

.......My guess _is_ that other folks have thought about it too. But I have always wondered... I mean just as _idle curiosity_ , what the big, mean looking dragon planned to do with his screaming little damsel. I reckon he had high hopes...

I guess though, I don't know his plan, because no one has ever said whether or not, he and his damsel ever found common ground.

Just for thought, I would guess he planned on making her his sex slave or something. Maybe also, he could have been hoping she would fall in love, and they would try for some decent looking children. Shit, maybe all the female dragons were just plain ugly...

Hell, who knows?

Although, I suppose no one has ever said much about all that, because no one ever knew, because the brave knight always ruined the dragon's plan.

Well, that was a mouth full. I guess that was the "because" of things, instead of the "jest" of things.

Writer man says, I am thinking too much about a fictitious creature.

_Then_ , I told him, up until a week or two ago, he thought I was just a _fictitious_ character. Shit, he almost passed out when he _fully_ absorbed who I was, and hell I'm a very peaceable man.

..........However, if he hears a scratch on the door, then gets a fire ball shot up his ass....

Hell folks, he talks _big_ shit, but I bet he still gets up on Christmas night to watch for Santa. Hell, he probably even wears a fancy looking hat like that Scrooge dude.

Anyway, I cheerfully greeted the knight with the one good eya. I told him I was a wayward soul without home or family, but always stood in constant awe of one such as him.

Yes sir re...

After more ego boosting (basically assuring him pecker length would not be a problem) persuasion and offering to be his faithful servant, he finally agreed to allow me to accompany him on his journey.

I was glad when we started walking side by side, because when facing him head on, it was hard _not_ to focus on the wobbly eya.

I even started to wonder, if the eya might confuse some of his saved damsels, while they were being all grateful. I was thinking, they might have trouble figuring out, if he was cumming or going.

After we walked a while and had established a friendship of sorts. I learned the reason he was wearing his full coat of armor today, was because he had received a summons to meet with the lord of the area.

The lord, he mentioned only by the name of Kingston.

He also said this Lord was known kingdom wide, for his often beheading of insubordinate subjects.

However, today of all days, along with his crippled horse, he had also overslept. So with everything going wrong, he figured it was very likely, his days of keeping his _head_ and _body_ together were numbered.

..........................Well hell, here we go, _head removal talk_ and I've only been here _ten_ fucking minutes.

Of course I was concerned for him _and_ me, because, like I mentioned earlier, in that era you could lose your head in a _heartbeat_.

.....................Don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about the _mental_ head losing, or tantrum that might cause someone to bring in a thirty eight, to off the _mousy chick_. Just, because fate went terribly wrong, and she ended up screaming and trembling in the arms of your Knight.

I know, I know, I should stay on point, but this keeps bothering me. I just can't get it off my mind. I'm not trying to start anything _but_ I still feel I need to be honest.

Earlier, if you recall, I threw out the hypothetical possibility of the mousy chick, ending up with your knight. I even mentioned a little of what she might feel while in his arms.

Well, like I told writer man, there is more to the story, but that is where he and I disagreed. He says we should keep it as a hypothetical scenario and leave it at that.

Besides, he suggested it was just a bunch of long, uninteresting malarkey.

However, as I said in the very beginning, I think honesty is the key. So, the truth is, she _did_ get your Knight. I say _you_ in general terms, because I won't and should not, say _exactly_ , whose knight she ended up with. Well, then again...

However, _you_ on the other hand, might already know.

Anyway, my writer is mad and said it might breed anger, all because I had to get that little tidbit of info off my chest. Shit, earlier, he even offered me some of his meds. He said I needed to let go of the anger, I was harboring toward heroines or my former lover.

I tell you what, he don't have _a clue_.

Anyway, he said we might rile other readers, who suspect someone might _already_ have _their_ Knight as well.

To stir the pot a little he said there is the slim possibility, and he did say _slim_ , but someone might suspect.... keep in mind now, he said _slim_ , but someone _might_ suspect, someone else is making it with the knight _who_ has _already_ found them.

Well hell, I knew _that shit_ would probably never happen, but to set his concern aside, I assured him there is so little competition between females, it would be doubtful if that would _ever_ be a problem.

...Well folks, good news, when he heard that, he calmed and actually brightened a little so now he is being all friendly.

However (scratching head) he is trying to sell me a treasure map, that I just watched him draw. I don't know what I said that would make him think I am _that_ damned gullible.

Whoa, now _he_ is bringing out some copper coins...

I was actually jerking his chain a little, but hell, he may _really_ have _no_ ideal, as to why women like wearing the long fingernails.

Anyway, now that he is happy and ready to type away, I will tell you the rest. A little ways back I left her (the mousy chick) with her breath taken away, as her first orgasm overwhelmed her. As all you readers obviously know there should have been more and there is, since what you read was just extended foreplay of sorts.

Well, it _might_ have gone a little beyond that.

But the truth is. The mousy chick, well, she just kept cumming, again and again in the arms of your Knight.

Yes ma'am re.

When it was all said and done she was a happy woman. I think _even with_ the _no_ competition factor in the works, I still don't want to bring up an image _that might_ somehow stir anger. So I won't even mention their two nude bodies all wrapped up like.........I will just be safe and say, when it was finally over, her face was flushed, hair a tangled mass, her body trembling from head to toe.

Sweating.

But hell, almost every woman knows that scene, all too well and _especially_ you.

I tell you what though, at the end of things, she was relaxed and laid out, just stretching _a little_ and smiling _a lot._

Writer man wanted to know why she was stretching. I told him I didn't know why. Women just do that when they feel or have just felt extra good.

However, even with everyone knowing exactly how she feels. I will still back up and talk about how she got to that point.

When I left their lovemaking earlier, things were just getting warmed up. I can tell you this with full assurance, because any good Knight, or lowly Hero for that matter, knows. When a man holds his woman as she needs to be, her first and maybe even her second release of pleasure, is just more or less relieving the tension and satisfying her _physical_ side.

Anyway, when her breath came back to her and the waves of pleasure slowly started to subside. He knew just how to hold her and move inside her just right, so to catch her little aftershocks just perfect and keep her going.

You know the little _shocks_ I speak of. The ones that _surprise_ her, shivering and tensing her body, causing inner muscles to contract and squeeze around his cock. Then, as I said, if your/her knight moves and encourages her just right....

Now, as you well know, her body is more sensitive and the emotions all the more tender. So a knowing touch can make these orgasm's hold, as much physical and even more emotional intensity than the first one.

I am sorry I kept saying "you know" how something _feels_. My writer says I am being insensitive, _because you_ may _not_ know. Because, when _the real truth_ is told, the mousy chick _is actually_ getting the works while you patiently wait.

Although, I feel pretty _confident_ you know _all_ too well how the lovemaking all works.

I guess I should just get back to the regular story now......... _You_ have probably thrown my sweet little book in the trash by now anyway.

......Nah...You're still reading. Competition may be out the window, at least in writer man's world, but female curiosity will never die.

Ah, what to hell.... After all, without the worry of the competition factor, for all I know you may be happy for the sneaky, conniving little slut!

Whoa back, baby girl! Just telling the story here, that's all and you are just reading a story. Although, I do believe, I am starting to sense a little hostility just saying these words. Trust me, it's all good, there is after all, that mandatory waiting period to calm, before you can buy the 38 and go after the little _tramp!_

Okay, with the _comforting_ knowledge of that little safety factor, I will share just a _little_ bit more. _Besides_ I know you aren't _really_ angry. No, not at all... well maybe just a little. Although, I just _threw_ the gun _stuff_ in for a little story color.

After all, you know _a lot_ about story color.

Anyway, when he senses her physical body is almost spent, he, as a true Knight, knows it is now time to _truly make love_ to his woman. With her physical needs _fulfille_ d, he can now truly hold the _heart and mind_ of her. He will gently cradle her in his arms, knowing she has yielded up all to him. The love and trust he sees in her eyes, assures him she is forever his.

As I said, the physical pleasure and emotional unity that have brought them to this moment, has left her heart and body like a soft delicate flower. His eyes, words and gentle embrace will convey to her his love and understanding of that fact.

He will stay inside her while moving slowly, the feel and movement of him no longer meant to excite, just to pleasure and simply continue to unit them. As he moves within her, he now finds a _unique smoothness_ as her inner walls warmly surrounds him. He will savor that special feel of her, knowing it only comes when a woman has _truly given her all,_ and received all in return.

All the pleasures given and taken and the strong buildup of physical and emotional tension, has caused everything within his animalistic nature to _scream_ for release. Yet, he will not shatter the tenderness of the moments and pound her smaller, _delicate body_ to achieve his own need. Therefore, along with the sheer look of her and feel of her, he will continue to let his tender emotions bring him higher and soon take him over the edge. So he continues to hold her close so to feel, smell and taste her perspiration dampened skin, as his tender kisses brush over her face.

While he continues to relish everything about her, he savors every sensation given to him, as he slowly moves inside her beckoning warmth. When his moment is close, he still refuses to let his physical needs steal the moment, and force him to drive hard into her.

Instead, she feels the raw strength of his arms grow even more firm so to secure her in place. Although, still unhurried, she feels the power of his want, almost set his firm tense body to tremble, as his hunger demands he claim _more_ of her with each powerful stroke.

The feel of him holding her so complete and sensing he is close, she feels her own final release is becoming imminent, and her arms cling to him so to offer up to him all that she has.

While she is being taken to her final state of ecstasy, the natural cravings of a woman causes her hips to grind up against his opposing weight, to search for and receive even more of him.

She feels her smaller body almost doubled up within his surrounding strength, as he seeks to satisfy his need and want of her. While he holds her and she clings tightly to him, her building orgasmic tensions again squeeze and massage around his firmness.

Now, every physical and emotional element that defines her as a _woman,_ have come together with perfect accord. In this union of mind and body, she will draw forth every drop of seed from his pulsating length, and receive it into the very core of her, thus, satisfying a craving inside her. An instinctual craving that is old...I am talking, as old as time itself.

..............You know just what I mean about the natural craving, don't you girl. I am talking about when those deep emotions take away the conscious mind, so to let the subconscious have its due.

Well hell, I got that off my chest and you know what? It sounds like _your_ knight may be in love. Yeah, you thought you were just too damned hot for a lowly hero. Now just look! Your Knight has fallen in love with someone else.

So, how do you like _them sweet little_ apples?

Well, then again.... maybe _their_ sour apples!

Whoa...whoa... My writer is freaking out now. Saying I should never have worked a personal vendetta into his story!

........Did you notice how he _again_ said _his_ story? I told you early on how he would try and do it _his_ way.

I can type a little.... so while he is gone...by the way, he said he was going to go try and call up his lady friend, after writing about what your Knight did.

Shit, I believe _your_ knight can even heat up an obsesive compulsive.

...............................Well, I don't know what the red lines under stuff means??

Ah hell, this typing thang aint going well. Plus he don't like me messing with his stuff. Well, that's an unredstatment, but I'm getting everything underlined anyway, so I will wait till he gets off.... gets back.

...........Well, he finally made it back. He looks a little sheepish so just maybe, his woman liked what happened to the mousy chick...

Ahaaaaaa yes....... what _your_ knight did to her.

Yeah, well...... he did do the little lady up pretty darn good, don't you think? I mean, if.... you prefer the slow easy stuff, it was pretty good love making.

I know, like writer man says, many of you mortal folks don't like that kind of thing. Too time consuming he says. Plus, while you're doing all that, he says you might miss out on a better knight/knightress, who might be checking out your social page.

However....I just _happen_ to know, and know all too well, how much _one little lady_ ........just _loves_.... I mean she _just loves_ that slow easy touch. Yes sir, _Serena girl_ , when all that hair gets disheveled and those sparkling green eyes start talking.......

............Well, anyway, I bet you would not call _anyone_ mousy now. I figure her face holds a glow and smile of perfect beauty. A beauty money could never buy, nor could the best of writers _ever_ describe.

Also, my old friend, as you very well know, the words we just set in print, can _never even_ _start_ to capture the many expressions of true passion. Oh no, words just _won't_ get it done.

I am talking about the deep passions, when the love and chemistry works its touch of magic, and make for that sweet perfect flow between lovers. All _senses_ are set on high. Then, it just kind of _suspends_ you there, where _nothing_ in this world...

Oh, I forgot, shame on me, you _already_ know _exactl_ y how all that works, don't you _Serena_?

Although, I just have to wonder, just where you experienced such a connection?

............Oh? Whoa...could all that _passion have truly been felt_ at the hands of a _simple hero_?

I guess that did it! The book is for sure in the trash.

Oh yeah Serena. I ran into Sam, your favorite knight. He said he and Samantha were thinking on tying the knot. I guess apparently he doesn't think she is mousey at all.

...............................................Well hell folks, I will admit I did have a little score to settle there. What can I say though, that was just a little of our....

.......Well, At least it was, before she mounted her broom, then rode off to find her _Knight in shining armor_.

There you have it, my reading friends. You have officially been introduced to _Miss. Serena Santiago....!_ Previously affectionately known as mad woman. I told you early on though...... that woman can thoroughly piss me off...

Big time!
Chapter 6

Jared Takes Reader Input

Well, maybe I _am_ getting a little ticked with all _that_ , so I'll pause for a moment. Writer man also says I need to calm, then get a little more feedback from the draft.

I guess I should also let everyone know, even though I did mention it earlier. I _don't_ cry at sunsets and _never_ skip for _any_ reason. But like I said, I just felt the men folks would definitely have wanted a little romance going on, before the lovemaking was underway.

......Writer man is _still_ upset about the love scene. He says not only was it too long and drawn out, but I overplayad how wet the woman was. He said a friend told him if he hurried things, and took his woman while she was kind of dry, she would wiggle and moan a lot more.

_Ya reckon_?

.......Shit, I have _no_ doubt; she would do just that.....

Okay, here we go back to the readers. At least this one doesn't have her arms folded.

Well, yes there were a lot of animals back in those days; chickens and pheasants were very common I guess.

You are pretty far along in the draft. So how did you like the story thus fa...

You can't be serious. My writer freaks out with everyday slang so you would have to know, he would obviously pass out if I even mention, a handsome young peasant boy, doing anything with a duck.

Well yeah, I think ducks are nice enough, I reckon. Sure I don't doubt animals' mating is a natural thing, but so far I haven't seen much of it going on.

I am pretty much looking for a white...kn...

Well, I guess at some point a Knight might have screwed....I reckon a lot of folks had milk cows around.

Yes sir re. I bet those great knights were doing everything in sig...

Oh yeah,...now that you mention it, there were quite few donkeys and lots of goats moving about.

Yeah, I did mention the one damsel, who might want her lover to bleat like a Billy goat, although that was just a hypothetical situation.

No, no, The Billy goat with two peckers was just...Please....I was just a little aggravated at my writer when I said all that.

True....I don't see how it could work either...Like I said, I was just...

I am as baffled as you are, so I don't know what a dragon would have done with a fair maiden.

Well, yeah.....I guess his breath could really heat up a pussy....Although, I think scorched might be a little more like...

Well, I guess somewhere, someplace, there could be a farm owned by a man named Stanley... but....

Yeah, I reckon he could very well have a goat and a big pepper patch too... but...

Well, that was interesting.

But hell, I can already see I am going to encounter more of the real doubters, like the earlier one in Iowa. So with that in mind, maybe I had better back up a little and explain a couple more things.

_Mercy sakes_! I wish I had never even mentioned Stanley. I don't think a knight and a _milk cow_ would fly either. I reckon I was just still a little pissed when I said all that.

As matter of fact, I think we need to cool back on the Knight thing too. At least for a while or women folk may lose focus on the words of this humble hero. Also, like I already said, panties ain't cheap these days.

I tell you what though; I know a few of you folks like to get a little off key. Although, I still don't think the milk cow thing will gain traction, but shit, all and all you just _never_ know what folks are thinking on.

Yes sir re, you never _can_ tell.

On that note, I read some place, about how often you mortal folks think about sex. I mean you have to know with all that _thinking_ , there is some _kinky shit_ being conjured up.

The truth is, I guess you never really know what even close friends or co-workers have going on. For all you know, you could spend most of the work day naked, hanging upside down covered in lemon juice and basil.

In all reality the juice is mild stuff, I reckon. Well, the basil might be a little off the cuff, but I was simply making the case for, _you just never know_.

So _now_ , can you see why Stanley's of the world always seems to have such a good day at work? Plus, I never _even_ mentioned the picnic table, where his loyal fans can watch his every perfect move.

...Okay, let me get back to work and, true, writer man, the last couple of paragraphs have nothing to do with anything I jus.....

Okay...where were we? ...Yeah, I'll admit you skeptics might be right to _some_ extent. The writers do have us in mind, but just in a way to draw us in. If our personalities fit the part and we like the story line, then, we take it and run with it.

The writer folk, you so firmly believe in, well, they will _never_ admit that _little_ fact. They, of course, call it _their_ inspiration, stimulation, and oh yes, the all conclusive _muse_.

I think that and a few other things should clear....

Well damn, I guess it might... if I could ever say anything.......

Hello California! You seem a little...

Well, you will have to read more of the draft to see what the heroine looks like.

No, she is not here at the moment...

No, there isn't a three way in the story. Well, at least not yat.

Well, I can coax a little, but that's usually something the heroin or heroines decide on.

What's that?

Yeah, I reckon I am hung well enough to get the job done. I already cleared that up, I rec...

No, I haven't measured it lately but...

The bucket of balls was just an expression....

Well then, I guess you can just skip buying this one. I can't guarantee the heroines will even like each...

Yes, there are several ladies involved in the full story, but like I said...

Well of course they are attractive...although one was a little...

No actually, I never saw a woman that had been whipped with the ugly stick, so I really...

Although, there was some that looked a little...

Yeah, you can touch me, and then you will see I am flesh and blood just like you.

Well hell, there appears to be skepticism still coming from everywhere.

Yes sir, writer man. A re-write with reader input was a grand ideal. Plus, as I mentioned earlier, writer man won't even type, when I tell him _what_ several out there are doing _or_ thinking on.

I mean they are doing some pretty good stuff, folks. He just says other readers don't care about all that.

Although, I suspect all this back and forth might be a bit confusing for everyone. Hell, it's even confusing me. So maybe writer fellow had a point when he talked about past and present tense. With that in mind, I guess I better hold up on the overall story for a while, and explain more about how I came to be.

Shit, I can't find out anything regarding my _overall_ story anyway. It seems everyone wants to just lock in on a single page or paragraph.

Yes sir, you folks are always thinking...Hell, pay no attention to the story. Just make up _your own_ shit.

Just bear with me though, I will eventually try and head back toward old England... I guess.

We might even save a damsel or three.

Easy now, contain your excitement, a damsel or three was just a figure of speech.

I know, I know, the fancy writers would not have this doubting problem. Just keep in mind though; the writers can just _make up shit_ as they go. While _I_ , on the other hand, have to deal with _just the facts_ as they happen.

Anyway, after I lay everything out for you, things will be clear, as a rainy night in Georgia. Then, maybe I can talk freely, without having to deal with all the, _no shit_ looks.

Well, I thought the arm folding thing was a little annoying also.

Then there's Tennessee acting all shy. I mean she went all red faced, before she said ten words....Shit, she ain't hiding anything from me. Hell, we _all know_ damn good and well, Old Stanley plowed into her, like a long dick stallion going after a mare.

Whoa, before anyone starts to get wet! The previously mentioned stallion holds _no_ implications, as to how a knight might make his grand arrival.

I only threw _stallion_ in that line to hopefully deflect a little focus off a milk cow.

Folks, I had truly planned on this being a fun story, but all you doubters look _so_ damn intense. So I will try and be serious, at least for a little while. No worry though, once you fully realize I am real as summer rain, you will _certainly_ know, _all_ is right with the world.

I suppose though, I might have gotten a little intense myself, when I talked about the Serena thing. But some things just make me mad.

I didn't fold my arms though.

I bet that folding shit even pisses off _mortal_ men.

Also, I _guess_ since I'm popping in on the draft readers.... Well, I suspect that too; will _cause_ a little concern later when _this_ piece is released.

Looking back, I probably shouldn't have lost my cool and taken the time to introduce Serena, much less mention how she likes to make love. I just stumbled on the tidbit of info, regarding _her_ Knight, so I couldn't resist.

_Then_ , to distract me even more, I get all the new information from writer man, on what mortal women like and don't like. Although, I still think we hang out with women from different planets...but...I just don't want to come across as a total idiot, if there is even a remote possibility he might know what he's talking about.

Also, I hear _conflicting_ stuff from the _mortal men_ as well.

However, everyone should just relax because I am a peaceable man, so I would never...

Hell, almost all of you reading the _frigging_ draft know me anyway, so lighten up a little. Some of you even know me _very_ well.

Shit, _I need_ a little help here; after all I have helped most of you get through a dry spell or four. Well, for some it might have been a _wet spell_ and you were trying to _dry things_ u...

Hold on!

Oh yeah hold on for a moment. I believe I see someone that might remember....

Well, yeah, I was dressed differently, but that's because you were reading a story set in the old south.

I guess my hair could have been a little shorter and darker. The writers often describe us as they want...

Well, I am glad I seem, a little familiar. You, seemed to think I was, real familiar, when we met down by the lake that day.

Yes, that was me.

I sat down and leaned back against a tree. You were wearing the full length dress...and you sat across my lap. All the boats were passing by and no one knew you were moving slowly on the full length...I will confess your inner contraction felt good, when someone came by and you had to pause and fight for restrain.

Well, well, it has been a while but I thought that might jog you're...I tell you what; you have gotten a lot of pleasurable mileage off that one.

Yeah, I am happy to hear you have built a lake house there.

Well no, we can't go there now. My writer is waiting for me so I better get back.

You can still visualize things though...

Well sure, I would like to go there long enough to see your new tattoo, but really, I am working right now. My writer is one of those nervous, fingers tapping kind o...

Oh, okay...Whoa! Wow! Yeah, that is nice.

Two little kitty cats, and I can see each one has something to lick. I can also see, your thoughts of the moment... well it might be the coolness in the air. But things are sure standing right up for their little tongu....

Yes, petting the kitties would be nice...

Well, I am not blind, so yes, I can see exactly how their tails are entwined and lead all the way down....

The big cat, huh? I don't recall it being...

Okay, a figure of speech. I gotcha...reckon I may be starting to take everything literally myself.

Damn, I should know better than pop in on a reader, especially if it's someone, whom I know is always be ready for action.

Male writers _and_ readers would just loooove _that_ woman!

Yes sir, do her again daddy!

Plus, no word on the story from _her either_.

She drew me there on her past reflection, I guess, but at least she didn't call me _some imaginary_ character.

Well, maybe that's one doubter put to rest.

Please note, I just said _rest_ in the context of convinced.

Just so you know. I didn't go to the lake house. I am, as you can see, a _hardworking_ man. I just bet some of you had already started to assume, I was going to cave like a horn dog when she ripped off her shirt.

Nope, not old Jared, I am straight as an archer's arrow. I am here to tell my story, not to deep stroke a big cat. Well, it _did_ cross my mind an all...

Plus, she did mention... I believe it was something about, how nice the sunset, would be on the lake this evening.

Some folks say I need to be more sensitive, so a sunset might soften up an attitude...

Anyway, as I have said, I am a peaceable man and I would never kick your dog, and would probably even pet your kitty.

Well, if time permits I would.

Maybe I could at least provide a few positive thoughts, while you do the petting. I might watch, but that just depends...

Whoa, some of you might take the _positive_ thoughts _lightly_ , but some women, well, they know exactly how all that works. I bet some might even think it's better than trying to firm up soft armor.

Hey, no need to blush. You are _not_ alone.

Plus, I also know there are some folks, who just like their kitties left alone. No sir re. No petting, stroking _or_ licking for their little kitty.

Yap, that is one prized kitten, I reckon. So... _leave it be_!

Truthfully, I don't think _they_ hardly even play with it at all.

...............................I suspect though, a prize like that is reserved for.....for....well hell, I guess I don't know what they plan on doing with it.

Mercy, maybe they take it to the state fair or something....

............ Hell, since I'm never called in to see such a dandy kitty play. For all I know, they might have a color portrait of it, hanging above the mantle.

A few black and whites decking out the foyar....

.....yes sir re.......

However, I do know there are others that may be a little skittish as well. I suspect though, if some are being force fed before their ready, as writer man suggest...then...I guess a little _panicky_ might come into play as well.

For the most part though, I will go so far as to say _most_ kitties enjoy a little petting. They would no doubt, just arch their little back...

Well hell, you know perfectly well, how your kitty responds to light brushing fingertips. I say light fingertips because as you know, I see no need to rush things. Most kitties like a little anticipation anyway. Although, often times they will get a little overly _excited. Then_ try and _wiggle_ up, so to hurry things along.

Hell, everyone knows how their kitty likes things. So I will erase the catty thoughts and get on with it.

I will back up a little in case anyone is confused with my bouncing around. So, like I said, in the original draft, my story was supposed to be simple. I wanted to try life as a mortal, plus as you know I had a little woman trouble awhile back... Well hell, I have had woman troubles as far back as I can remember. I reckon that is true for any hero though.

Just so you continue to know the _facts._ There was never, any trouble with the kitties of the women I mention. I mean there were kitties involved, and they arched real nice and all.

Also, none of them were reclusive. Or at least they didn't act like it. I didn't notice any pictures hanging around either.

I say all that because I don't want anyone, jumping to conclusions, and all that. Then, I end up _explaining_ for an hour, as to why I couldn't get a kitty to arch.

Although, as a hero, you just never know what kind of kitty you will be petting in the next damn story.

Please don't get me wrong, the petting ain't the problem. What can get a man down, is taming the damn thing, so you _can_ pet it proper.

_That_ , my friends, is what wears a hero down. I mean once you get it tamed, it's pretty much downhill all the way. Well, over doing the burning and gun fire can create a little distraction....

Then, on occasions I can get a little too much of the wall thing. You also can have the _bear_ thing, which will occasionally cause a ruckus. I must admit though. In modern day you don't have as much of the bear stuff going on.

I reckon, now days good meds help keep everyone mellowed a little.

So all and all, I think some kitties _might_ have _actually_ been a little _skittish,_ in the _beginning_ at least.

I reckon then, a little skittish might be the norm.

However, a reclusive...well... I won't even speculate on all that. Maybe though, the little kitty might've come out for its maiden run, and it got all wet and didn't feel it wiggled enough.

I guess that _could_ after all _,_ make a kitty self-conscious.

Just so you know. Writer man looks all smug when I make reference to wet, _not_ being a _positive_ thing.

Oh well, but in regards to wearing a hero down, there will also often be back to back love scenes. Then there is the much favored wall thing, in which I mentioned earlier. As you may know, we heroes usually deal with dainty little heroines. I mean they know how to get it done, so usually they just wrap their legs around you and hang on.

Although, I bet the wall would be even more tiring for a mortal man. I mean if he hangs out with a well-nourished girl and all.

I say that, only as a mental note to remind me to be careful, since I'm thinking on living more like a mortal man.

Whoa, don't even start to sneer. All and all, it doesn't make a fat rat's ass to me, but you could screw around and cause him to throw out his back. _Then_ , you have to know, he will be off work, lying back on the couch, just whining like a son of a bitch.

.........I bet Stanley is a pretty strong guy though. I say that because earlier I suggested he hook up with our crooked toe friend. I just don't want someone hurt because of me.

Shit... I thought I had made it through a few idle thought without a bitc... hitch. However, our little writer woke up and says...

Well, you already know.

Sorry, you were wrong.

Hell, even I was wrong.

This time he let Stanley rest, but says I need to wrap it up and move on, or at least be more _sensitive_ to the _well -nourished girls._

Hey now, I think well- nourished girls are fine, and no doubt a lot of them are _wall friendly_. I was just making a point that's all. I mean it's just basic math. When you start throwing around.....

.............Just to assure everyone, I am a fair man, I see _a lot_ of very well _nourished men_ as well. Along those lines, I think any woman, be she well- nourished _or_ be she slender. If she _actually_ lets some of those big boys mount up, she _easily_ deserves some sort of metal for bravery.

Yes sir, she should frame that medal and hang it in the hall.

Well yeah, writer man. I go to the local _retail_ just like everybody else. Yes, I see things too.

.........Although,... _actually..._ I can't _recall_ ever hearing of a crushing incident. Women folks are like me, I reckon. So they keep safety in mind.

Anyway, for my doubters, I will just go ahead and say. Yes, _Romantic Heroes_ , have problems just like everybody else. I know you read about a lot of those problems, but they are the fixable ones and can be wrapped up all nice and neat, for the happy little ending.

But I tell you what. Serena, well, she can rub me the wrong way in a _heartbeat_.

But hell, you already know about all that shit.

However, in just the short time I have been here checking on the draft, I have heard a _few_ rumors. Rumors, that imply, the madwoman/ Serna, might, have even tried to get into my story.

See what I mean about her? I know you can understand, just exactly what I am going through, _and hell_ , you can't _even_ see those green eyes spitting fire.

I also know if you could, even for just a moment see her square off for a scrap. Well, even the doubters would be on my team all the way.

They would no doubt say, "Jared, well, he is one of the nicest men I know. He can pet a kitty like no other. Plus, he is quiet handsome too, but _damn_ that woman _he was with..."_

Although, in all honesty, I don't believe she would go so far, as to actually mess around with my story. After all, she and I have called it quits and like I said, the last time I saw her, she was on her way to find _happy ever after_.

...............Although, she _does_ know a few of the secrets that allow I and others like me, too, exist...

Well, that's all depressing stuff, so I'm not in the mood to worry about all that.

I mentioned it early on, but I don't _really_ think a broom was actually involved as her means of travel, then again...

Plus, she is a little on the prissy side, so she would _never_ brave the days of old. Shit, I don't even think they had those nail places back then. I guess they may be one and the same, but I never saw any of the places that paint toe nails either.

No hair places either...

Writer man is _still pitching a_ bitch, all because I used her name. I don't know why though, unless he's afraid she will show up in his creative space, and frizz up his comb over.

Oh, just for the record, _creative space_ is _his_ words _not_ mine. I reckon that is where he thinks up fancy words like _ejaculation_.

I suppose when he is all alone and thinking on words like ejaculation. He probably ponders things like _masturbation_ as well.

Maybe he calls it research, since his momma wanted him to be a doctor. Then _again_ , he might panic when and if he achieves satisfaction, thinking his dick is _sick_ and throwing up everywhere.

Well... that's a pretty depressing thoughts as well....

Anyway, _that_ ideal made him reach for his little paper breathing bag.

Yes sir re. It all can certainly make a man want to follow a cat's tail. Yes sir re. Plus, I do like a sunset on the water. But I reckon almost anybody would.

I tell you what though, relaxing in writer man's creative space really isn't so bad. I can just kick back on the couch and pull my hat down over my eyes.

I like that, because I don't have to watch him sweat and fret, about every little thing I say.

Although, I can see right now, I may have been on the wrong end of things all along. In all honesty, this is much better than being out there busting my well chiseled ..............

........ Yes sire re, if I could type. I could sit here all day and make up shit. If I get a little bored, I could make some _rookie hero_ hang himself. ... Although, it might be more fun to let him get his heroine half way to heaven's gate, then have a mad gorilla show up.

....Then again... hell...I don't know about all this being so nice, cause I aint seen a heroine around here nowhere.

Hell, I've only seen one mortal women and that was writer man's woman. I didn't talk with her though. I've just saw her drop him off a time or two.

She does have a pretty nice truck.

I think though. If I hung out here a lot, I would definitely have more women moving about. A man just never knows when he might get a hankering for some..... _some conflict_.

.......Yeah conflict......

I think though, since he insist I keep explaining things, I believe I could tell my story better, if I could put my boots up on the couch. I tried that _already_ , but I believe I would have encountered less _ha do_ , while saving two heroines and their pet monkey.

Whoa readers!.....The pet monkey should draw no exciting implication. It was just another of my, off the cuff expressions.

Mercy! The more I think on it, I should have gone and helped the little kitties lick those full firm nipples! I tell you what. I am usually not that big on large tattoos. But the way she had the body of the kittens setting on each side of her rib cage. Then, set so their heads were resting on each of her breast...... Their little tongues were just lapping...

All that off set with a lot of long blonde hai....

.................I wonder why her husband don't keep her...Come to think of it, she never ever mentions hi....

Shit, she may have worn the poor fucker out. I personally, have never put _her_ against the wall, but I have no doubt that would suit her to a tee..... Although, _she_ would likely be the one suggesting you try _four_ fingers, just to _see_ what happened.

Well anyway, _hell,_ I always thought I lived a simple life...Then all you doubters suddenly pop up and remind me of things.

Plus, I need to get along with my story. I was actually doing okay in old England.

Then of course Mr. Comb over wanted a rewrite

I guess you know or can plainly see how well, all _that_ _shits_ working out.

Mr. Comb over assures me, _he_ knows how a story _should_ be done. I guess if you're trying to read all this, you can see how all _that_ _shit's_ working out too.

With that in mind, I have to wonder if I should even go back to old England. I mean when you go that far back in time, it's a pretty tough gig.

Besides, no one seems to care about the whole story.

Yeah, just milk cows, and goats packing two peckers. Well, there _was_ the three way question. That might hold some merit though.

Bart was a pretty decent fellow too. Oh hell, I forgot. _I am_ , trying to save some panties so I won't say any more about all that.

I guess some of you might need a pair for work.

Well, unless you want to _give_ your local Stanley a little _shake up_.

Plus, I myself would like to continue my trip, so to confirm all the hoopla surrounding the great knight. I guess I'll ponder all that, while I lay back on this couch.

Although...... I do think I'm making headway with a few doubters. I suspect if I twiddle my fingers awhile longer and explain a little more, they will come around.

I tell you though; this couch feels pretty dang good, considering I was sleeping on a sheep skin in beautiful England.

.........I tell you what. I may not have all the in and outs, of you mortal folks figured out, but I _do_ know _how_ a lot of you _think_ about things.

With that in mind, I bet just because I mentioned tattoos and a sunset, I suspect for the most part, you folks think nipple licking is pretty much all I think of.

"Just like a _damned man_!" Some might even say.

Nope, you are wrong.

Besides, we _all_ know nipples need a little nibbling as well. So I often ponder on that some too. Don't get me wrong here. It not something I obsess about...I just....

..........................Well, I may be just a damned man, but just so you know, along with my modesty, I am a very _deep_ and _complex_ _man_.

I just say all that, so you can go ahead and erase any and all thoughts along those shallow lines. Although, I have heard some of the mortal men can be a little _shallow_. _They_ of course, dispute that _analogy..._ but...I hear stuff.

If you will recall, I did mention, the natural beauty of a sunset on the water. I thought that showed a little diversification on my part.

You have already heard of my _great_ endurance.

I also, told you about the danger of getting my dick gnawed, while I am visiting old England. Well, that kind of thing can happen here at home, but anyway, I think that shows you of my _forethough_ t.

...This couch makes me feel like taking a nap.

Speaking of forethought and _gnawing_. I know here in modern times, if a woman gets a little aggressive while taking a cock in her mouth, you can get soothing cream and all. However, back in the old era, I reckon they just dealt with it.....I suspect there was a lot of jagged teeth back then too. In fact there was a lot with _no_ teeth.

I just wonder.......

I guess though, the men of that era could have wrapped the tender little/big fellow in some sort of...

Then again, the _great_ Knights, well hell, they probably had some kind of _special_ ointment, no doubt.

..... Probably some _unique_ blend, derived from the left gonad of a _fucking_ grizzly bear, or some _heavy duty_ shit like that.

Yes sir re.

I mean you have to know. Those awesome fellows would have been _forced_ to have a plan in place. I think if you go around snatching damsels from the jaws of death and... hell, I think even if teeth weren't a problem, the friction alone would be intense.

Don't ya reckon?

......No, scratch the friction thing. He would _no doubt_ have her so excited. Her thighs and legs would be drenched to her knees, just because he showed up.

Yaaaaah shit! Them fellows are truly awesome, don't ya know.

Laying around on _my_ couch and shi...

Anyway, I already know, the broom riding comment, I made earlier will come back to bite, likely on both well defined cheeks. I suspect though, that shows you of my _unrelenting_ courage.

...Shit, I don't even care about Serena. She can wear her knight's dick down to a toothpick for all I care. _He_ just better save enough soup to mow the damn yard, though.

Anyway, after a little thought. I reckon, it might actually be fitting, to slow my story and tell you a little more about myself. Since, after all, in _this_ story, the hero _is_ dictating to the writer.

Well hell, I said, _slow_ the story. That's a little _much_ , considering we are standing still at the moment.

So anyway, it's all kind of backwards anyhow. Plus all this reader _input_ keeps knocking back the original part.

I don't think writer man even cares, just as long he gets his little re-write. I am _even_ starting to wonder if he really wants people to know the truth.
Chapter 7

Waiting on Reader Input, Jared Thinks on _Stuff_

Hell, he didn't have much to say regarding my conspiracy theory. However, he panicked when I uttered the word backward.

He says that could cause reader _conflict_.

Whoa... nooooo shit! ....Welcome to _my little_ empire.

I guess though, I better move my hat and sit up. Heaven forbid any conflict should _ever_ arise.

Yes sir re. That's the way it should be, Zero tolerance for the little readers and their conflict.

Hell, I don't even know if the _zero_ line makes sense. I just learned that term a while back, and wanted to use it someplace. The writer I was working for at the time, also like the words _further expound_ , and trust me, _he_ could _expound_.

Therefore, I will _further expound_ on the backwards scenario so we can hold, with _zero tolerance_ for _reader_ conflict.

Please know, when I suggested things are going kind of _backwards_. I was referring only to _how_ this story _is_ written, _between_ the hero and the _writer_. I don't mean to, _even_ imply _everything_ is written backwards.

Good grief, I have never even been near a turnip truck, but if a love scene come into play, I would never _even_ suggest you first have afterglow while cuddling. Then intense lovemaking, foreplay and earth shattering kisses, along with conflict, lip biting _then_ butterflies and _hello_.

I mean shit! You have to know, as writer man suggested, something like that would, no doubt, confuse the most discerning reader.

I think jitters should have been in there someplace. I reckon, since _I am_ a professional, I should have all that down pat. I guess though. I will need to ask my next heroine exactly how that works. I mean after all, she's the one _who handles_ all that.

Well, I reckon any mortal woman could clear up that issue as well. I guess in the short term, you can just think it through, and maybe get it right in your own mind.

Just please know. I meant no ill intent.

I knew I should have gone to the lake house. Yes sir re. I could be over there, just getting all over those nipples. Then later on, stroke the big cat until it meows.

Just so you men know, lake house woman don't worry _all that much_ about _meaningful_ conversation. She just a _get er done_ type woman.

_Okay, okay_ ... Although, right now I'm not prepared to go out on a limb and say _if jitters_ occur, before _or_ after, the butterflies.

.............Hell, I guess in some cases, they might start the whole thing. Then hang on right through the intense lovemaking and cuddle time.

Shit, for all I know, they may be what causes _men_ to get that deer in the headlight look.

Nay, almost all women still shiver and tremble during the cuddling, but I don't like to think of that as jitters.

I like to think, she is just enjoying those little body shivering _aftershocks_.

Well hell, everyone knows _exactly_ how that works.

Although, there is a chance I might have been off point on the headlight look as well. Although, I don't _even_ worry about that look myself.

However, I hear it can and _often does_ , scare the _living dog shit_ out of a mortal man when he feels it coming on.

I don't even know why I said that. Ladies, if your man does you up right, _let him_ look at you anyway he wants. Shit, if _he_ gets a little jittery. Then, at least you will confirm where _they fit_ in the _scheme_ of things.

Writer man says I need a lot more training as a mortal man, because _mortal women_ are the ones, sporting the, _preverbal_ headlight look.

After he cleared me up on the look, he also, just reminded me of how sensitive and delicate women are. He says any and all mention of the head light look, could cause anger, maybe even tears.

....Hell, I was actually fielding around that famous look, but he _woke up_ and opened the lid anyway.

So to cover his wise ass, I know women are sweet and soft and feel things more deeply than men. They also do a lot more thinking than men. Along with all that thinking also comes a lot more wondering.

Hell, they may even wonder why, the asshole is lying on the couch, when he knows perfectly well, she has been wondering what the bedroom would look like, if the walls had a lighter coat of paint. Well, then again the room is pretty sunny as it...Then again the drapes don't matc...

Plus, the kitchen floor needs new....

Weed eating needs to be finished.

However......, when writer man says they are delicate and sensitive...

............First off, he has yet to meet my former little honey pot.

..................Secondly, I think mortal men _grossly_ underestimates their women folk. I touched on this a little in the original story. Although, I do agree, women think about things different, so some may _very well_ get upset about how I say things.

..........However...The delicate part, well I won't back up much on that one.....well, their skin is softer and their hair smells good, and their eyes are....and their legs are smoother and...

I reckon when you actually _verbalize_ it, they might be a little...

...Nah, all and all, I think they are just pretty damned _tough_..... Plus, I didn't know they liked to be _dry_ fucked loved until just a bit ago. I think that adds even more _charge_ to the word _tough_.

Hell, with that in mind a lot of mortal men _and_ women, may actually _need_ the grizzly gonad ointment. I guess the lady folk might prefer a milder blend, maybe something from a koala bear. I think those little fellows look pretty sensitive and all.

Anyway, I won't even elaborate on how women can bring a screaming little mortal on to the planet. Neither will I _expound_ upon, _how after all that_ trauma, _why_ they would _ever even_ _consider_ , letting a man get within a country mile of them. I tell what, speaking of a country mile, a delicate little woman can move her hips to one side, then hang that grinning _or_ screaming little fellow up there, and just keep on a going.

Like I said earlier, I _am_ a peaceful man, but if the roles were reversed _and a woman_ hooked me up with all that impending pain and work, _then_ just _casually dozed_ off to sleep.....well..... I suspect the _casualty_ count for this story would _rapidly_ rise...

Oh well, I am the last one to be even talking about all that complexity. Shit, I don't even know where Mars is located, or that other planet either.

Although, _I have_ , observed a few other little things along the way.

Well, I best refrain from saying too much, or some of the men folk might end up on stronger meds.

Like I said, I don't _know much_ about the planets, so I will stick with what I _do know_.

Therefore, I will make one more small comment on the delicate nature of women. But there is a chance, this may offend a few folks as well. I guess especially the ladies that enjoy those little popper orgasms. Please, please, I know that works for you and that's great. Just keep right on _uh_ popping.

But _then_ .... there are _the other_ women. Those who, if in the _right_ hands can have those intense, full body wringers just as fast as you help her bring them up. I am talking about where her mind and body works in conjunction and...

Well, we touched on that, in my little story a while back. Plus, most of you ladies know _exactly_ what I am talking about here.

I mean, _even_ if writer man _says_ you _don't._

Anyway, this so called _delicate_ woman can do that heavy lifting for hours _, then_ .....just _get up_ and start _cleaning the damn house_.

Yeah. I aint telling no lie.

I mean she may rest for a little while first. Maybe drink a bottle or two of water...but...

This is just a side note, intended for the rookie men folk, but if she decides to talk, when she is in this mellow state. _Fellows,_ I would take note of _every_ word she says. Hell, you might save yourself a trip to mars or that other planet.

Just saying...

Shit, she might keep you so worn out; its okay with her if you take a nap during the day. I _know_ that's shooting for the stars but....

_However_ ....the next time she requires your services, if she wants you to take her hard and dry. Then, _well_ , just _disregard_ _every_ fucking word I just said.

Whoa, I caught something before writer man. So I hope I didn't _upset_ someone already. Earlier though, I most likely stumbled big time, when I used _house cleaning_ as an _example_ of her endurance. For the sake of equality let me say, for _all_ I know, she could very well get up, change the oil in her truck, or fire up the old John Deere and plow _forty_ acres.

Anyway, my point to it all is. I think just a few of those intense body wringers, in a short span of time would kill a _non delicate_ man, _stone cold dead._ I am talking heart stopping, mortuary slab dead.

Hell, you know that's true, because just _one_ will put him into a deep sleep. Folks, I'm pretty sure that would take spunk slapping, to a _whole nother_ level.

Yes sir re.

Well I did promise low causalities...

So......

Okay, to keep my causality count low and for the sake of delicate, let's say he _does_ _live_ through all the intensity of the orgasms, and just _ends_ up in a mild comma.

We will have his _delicate_ little woman sitting lovingly by his bedside. I mean you know she is there, just worried to death about her big ole brave man. I also suspect she is looking all sweet, maybe a little angelic with her hair held back with just a simple clasp.

When _he finally_ comes around, her smile and touch to his cheek gently welcomes him back to her. _Note_ the spelling in, _comes_ around, or he might _misunderstand_ and pass out again.

Anyway, after he fully gathers his wits, she will lean in with her usual lovable smile and comfort him. _Then_ , after a while...well maybe after an hour or two, she will quietly ask if he remembers the sweet love making, which put him here.

I suspect his memory may be a little vague so he probably won't relapse at the thought, and he will likely just smile and nod with understanding. I suspect though, the good drugs may be enhancing the smile a little, so all and all, he may _not_ be as strong as he appears.

For his sake though, even with the drugs, I would suggest she continue to hold the sweet gentle smile, when she tells him, as a result of all their sweet, sweet loving, he will deliver them a seven and a half pound cannon ball in just a few months.

BILLY BOB HORTON

1976------2013

Okay, okay, back off writer man.

Please folks, don't panic....That, was _all_ just another one of my _hypothetical_ situations. To my _knowledge,_ no mortal man has ever passed on, nor has one ever been rendered comatose due to an onslaught of orgasms. I was just pointing out how easily, _delicate_ and _strong_ can sometimes be _misconstrued_.

...Well writer man says if I don't get the jitter issue resolved. Some serious reader will be kicking around ideals, for the wording on _my_ tombstone.

He also mumbled, something about me going soft on the ladies.

I am not doing any such thing. Women piss me off, just as much as ever. I just say things _as I see it_. Hell, like the mortal men _always_ say. I love women and love them often as I can.

It's just the _one_ woman that _really_ rips my cord!

Hell, I should be at a lake house right now, making a mortal woman shiver and tremble so hard; she would get up and _build_ herself a damn _house boat_.

_Okay_ .... since I don't want to further confuse, we best just scratch the jitter thing, altogether.

...Soft on women my ass! Actually, I am so fed up at the moment, hell; I may forego the cuddling next time I am with a woman. So we can just scratch the jitters and drop out the whole idea of cuddling as well.

That stuff should prove I am not going soft.

Yeah, just get her done, then get on my horse and ride away, and leave her whimpering and trembling. Yes sir re, the new me in action. Although, I still can't wrap my thoughts around the dry fuck though.

Shit, I guess he don't fully grasp, just how bad women can piss me off.

Well, it's as I said a moment ago, just _a_ woman _._

_Well, hell_...heroines can be a pain in the ass sometimes too.

_Then, in all honesty,_ there have also been a few mortal women that just always...

...Shit, I recall back in 72, I left the commode seat up. You would have thought the fucking planets reversed. I'm talking Mars and _all_ the others. Well, _she_ said _I_ left it up.... She had _flowers_ and shit painted on it..... We _were_ smoking some pretty decent stuff though....... I still firmly believe I was pissing in the garden, and I still contend, her ass got wet from sitting in the bird bath. Things were a little hazy I admit, but she kept _swearing_ she didn't _even_ have a garden, much less a bird bath.

Women will lie to ya though.

Oh well, I reckon I do have a mellow moment sometimes when thinking on the women folk. But since _I am_ experimenting with being mortal... yeah, just screw all that mellow crap. Hell, I don't think mortal men worry too much about all that. Shit, I even heard one fellow say, he had just recently approached his woman and suggested the ideal of logging pre-cuddle time.

Hell, in the busy mortal world, I suppose that might make sense. I think _more_ so, after what I have learned just today.

I guess though, unlike me and my _new image_ , the mortal fellow was _at least_ a _little_ sensitive.

He said, for example if the pre-game show was dull, why not grab your woman and rack up some advanced cuddle time. Then, later, after he has done his manly deed and she was all smiles, he could just go right to sleep, since he already has the _cuddling credits_.

Actually, I haven't talked with him since his _divorce,_ so I don't know _exactly_ how all that worked out.

......Anyway, I cleared all the backward stuff as writer man suggested, because you have to know, if a _diehard_ romance reader, even _suspected_ , the entire _romantic_ scene was described backwards. Well, writer man says their head would likely explode, right then and there.

Like I said, I am a _peaceable_ man. So I certainly don't want to cause all that.

Plus, I bet when a head explodes it would make one _hell_ of a mess. Yeah, some poor soul would have to clean all that shit up. I bet brain matter on the ceiling would be a bitc...

....This couch is getting more comfortable by the moment.

I guess on a positive note, if a lot of heads blew up, it might make good _reading_ for some of you, more morbid folks. I suspect we could even bring in a few flesh eaters for a little snack.

I tell you what; it would feel so good, if I could just put my feet up and stretch my legs all the w...

......Anyway, I suppose the backward romantic scenario, might be easier to tolerate, if it were an _alcohol induced_ romance. Just use a little caution along the way and don't confuse the, stomach butterflies, with the stomach roll that _usually_ accompanies the need to _throw_ up.

Well, I suppose also, it might add a little bit _more_ zip to the stomach roll, if the alcohol was a little off the mark, when _it selected_ the hero/heroine you _woke up_ with.

Well, forget I even made the _off the mark_ , comment. That could cause teeth marks on your arm.

Well, my writer doesn't like the word _ugly. So_ we best just keep _off the mark,_ in the line. _Even_ if it does provoke the thought of the, _proverbial_ arm chewing.

I know that seldom happens to anyone. I am just thinking out loud, while I wait on the doubters to get deeper into their draft.

...I'm sure no one has chewed up arms.

.................. However..... I do sometimes wonder about folks that wear long sleeves all year around. It gets down right hot here in the south. So you, have to know their _hiding_ something.

I guess in some cases the long sleeves make sense though. Showing up at a mortal job interview with chew scars, would obviously shout. " _I make bad decisions_!"

.......On the _other_ hand, chew marks might prove you saw the error of your ways early on. After fucking ugly, you at least made a gallant effort to get the hell away quickly.

I suppose the long sleeves on a first date would be good as well.

Although, in reality, teeth marks might be an _excellent_ ice breaker. I guess especially if it's a blind date and either _or_ both parties are _off the mark_ a little. What better way is there to say, ugly people need love too. Just buy me a couple drinks and we'll set this _ship to sail_.

No offense Tennessee, no offence. You _are_ a cutie, no doubt.

I don't know, but if you're a little shy about the marks. It might help some, if you just fess up and tell everyone up front. You were knee walking _drunk_ , when _all_ or _most_ of the bad decisions were made.

I am sure that would make everyone feel, a little better about it all.

Hell, the silver lining might be, _old Stanley finally gets laid_!

No credit carded needed, and yeah, even in a state other than Tennessee too.

Really and truly, I reckon I'm still just a _made up_ character, but I think we're making a little headway, toward getting Stanley laid more often. Hell, he may be sitting a straddle of a _big_ white stallion before it's over.

I suspect he might even be hauling a couple of sausage sticks in his saddle bags. Although, I guess _now_ they would be to keep his energy up.

Just a little side note on doing Stanley. I doubt you can remember much about it anyway. But if you do happen to have a few vague memories _and_ old Stanley _was_ involved.... Well, since he probably hadn't had any in a while, that may have been why he suffered _or will_ suffer from pre...ej... well you know, just kind of got started.

Please...I say that, not to sound negative but to offer up a little encouragement. So I think with a little experience behind him, he will probably do better next time you get drunk. I don't know that for a fact or any....

....... Then hell....... Who really knows, in reality he may be one of those, serial quick shooters.

..........Whoa, then again..... Stanley may be just fine; it might be all because _your_ little kitty, is just _that dammed hot_.

Shit, half way _in_ may be all _any_ man _can stand_.

Hell, if that be the case, Stanley may, as I said be just _fine_. He might just be _hot kitty_ challenged.

I mean if anyone doubts my words, you can take hot kitty out and road test her a little. At least you will know...

Keep in mind, all that was just idle suggestions. It's all good.

I tell you what, if things work out, Stanley may not _only_ reach White Knight _status_. He may be soul mate material as well.

Oh well, just so I don't hurt any feelings. I know a few teeth marks would probably be fine. I suppose it never hurts to show off the fact; you have put a little _experience_ on your resume.

Plus, your sweet little granny will be proud as a peacock.

All that is beside the point anyway, I don't care if you wear long sleeves or not.

I tell you what folks; these doubters have thrown me off my game.

Plus, I'm a little sleepy.

My writer, _who_ _also_ loves the word _expound_ is _even_ scolding me for babbling on and on.

Hell, while I wait for the opinions on my draft, I have to talk about something, so I don't know why _he's_ complaining.

Shit, if I was back in England, I might have already saved a damsel by now.

........Yes sir re. I could be kicked back on my sheepskin, just loving life. I suppose if my saved damsel was on the _frequently_ saved program, she would know her way around a sheep skin.

Plus, I am trying to be creative; after all I'm resting back on the couch again, and _I am_ in the creative space.

Just so you know, a moment ago he gave me a towel to rest my feet on. I also _believe_ pretty much of what I am saying is _valuable stuff_.

I don't know for _whom_ it might have value...but hey...

Hell, I can't go home and rest while taking a break from my travels. Mad woman is probably over there polishing her broom as we speak.

Hell, if her knight is there, shit she may be polishing a lot of..... Well, we all _know_ someone else has her _original_ knight.

However, she _is_ pretty damn handy, _especially_ when she is determined, so she might've had a backup Knight.

Yes sir, back up man, sitting proudly on his white stallion, just waiting for his call. Maybe while he was sitting at the gate. I hope he could see the yard needs a little attention.

I tell you one damned thing, _even_ _if_ he's a second string Knight, he best not be messing with any of my _stuff_ ....I left some decent jeans and a pair of boots over there.

The boots were pretty beat up...but still...

...... I should go get my _stuff_ and check on my horse, I reckon.

Then hell, she would just think I'm checking on her. Plus, it would just give her a chance to rowel.

I think most of you folks can easily agree with me there.

You mortal folks, like getting those restraining orders. I don't know for sure, but I reckon you get one of those, so the police are made aware of the fact, you'll be getting killed pretty soon.

However, she knows there is nothing to fear from me, so she would just open the door and growl....

A lot!
Chapter 8

Jared Ponders the Real Life of a Hero

So, to get back on point I'll say, actually, in reality, the characters usually _always_ dictate to the writers, but you would probably doubt that as well. Well, sometimes you will get some _gung ho_ hero out there, who will suck up to the writer. Then the damn writer can jerk his ass around...

I tell you what though. Along with the great Knight, I have been giving the soul mate thing a lot of thought of late. I guess I better not elaborate much on all that.

Soul mates and knights too, might cause some real trouble.

.......Although, _I have_ been, thinking _heavily_ on the possibility of starting up a soul mate _training_ school. It's just an ideal I've been kicking around, since I hear they are often _sought_ but _seldom_ found.

.................Women can be similar in many ways, but _never_ the same...........I think though, with that in mind, I would need to set up different levels of training. One mate fits all would never.....

Well, maybe when this Knight thing is behind me....

I tell you what folks, this is my damn story. Writer man can bitch all he wants. I will talk as much as I want to.

_Okay, okay_ , writer man. Yeah, I know _they are out_ there with folded arms...

Alright, for you doubter folks, just let me just give you a few of the real facts!

Well, I have already been telling you the facts all along, but they were sugar coated little.

With that said. I will touch on the writer folks for another moment, just to prove how we do the heavy lifting, while _they_ get the damn credit.

Like I said, all the arm folding doubters for sure, need to know how things _really_ work.

While I am at it, I will also throw in _another_ little beef of mine and say, if we _do_ put together a decent story for the writers and sell a few copies.... Hell, along with the credit, they take _all_ the damned _money_ too.

Anyway, the money thing is a pretty legitimate beef don't you think? I'm just saying.... I'm not mad about it or anything, no, not at all! I wasn't even going to say anything about all that. But... as you can see, the doubters _have_ rattled me a little.

Plus, I _don't_ like the ideal of some _son of a bitch_ messing with my boots. They are pretty well worn, but still...

Anyway, hell, _I'm glad_ the writers can sit around all day, relaxing in their _little creative space_ , with a glass of wine and dine on good food. I don't want them to choke on it or anything. Plus, there is no sense in wasting good food or wine, should they gag and _strangle to death_.

I mean, back in the day it was easier for a hero to make a good living. He could occasionally find a little buried treasure, or collect a decent reward for bringing in a few outlaws. Maybe even run a few head of horses or cattle...

Well, several years ago, it was _alleged_ , that I worked a pretty lucrative diamond heist, but that's old news. Also, that was back before bad was good.... or good was...Well however to hell you folks _view_ all that stuff.

I was a younger man then too, plus there was this woman and all. Hell, you know how all that goes. Women are always stirring the pot.

........ Yes sir re bob, they have taken down _many_ a good man. Hell, they may have even caused a few to lose their damned boots.

.........Well shit, I don't _actually_ know how often that _really_ happens. It just seems like a good thing to say, when your damn woman has pissed you off.

Mortal men say it often, but...

..... Come to think on it, some _mortal men_ rag on their women _a lot_. I admit I'm an outsider of sorts, but I just have to _wonder_ though, if they've _carefully_ mulled thru, the entire _ramification_ , if the women folk just up and exited the planet.

I don't even like to think on that myself...I mean they _can_ piss me off and all...but _still_.

Anyway, I think my pre-cuddle friend, must've somehow made his woman pretty pissed. I heard, all that he ended up with, was a few clothes and his truck.

He does have some nice wheels on it though.

Hell, I'm getting off point again, but I've heard rumors about men with the big wheels and such. Shit, I doubt their true though; because mortal women always say _size don't matter_ anyway.

_Writer man_ also _confirms_ size has nothing to do with anything. So you know _that's_ right.

...Really and truly, folks, it was all just a bunch of made up crap anyway. I was never even _close_ to any diamonds.

Anyway, now days, the reader is more impatient and likes to fold their arms. So in order to prevent all that, the romance writers, just _say_ right up _front_ the hero is _rich_ and _powerful._ That way, they can cut to the chase and have the foxy little heroine's, flower of love, starting to bud by the second chapter.

I guess they figure a little of that, will start to firm up a few nipples, and you will at least decide to unfold your arms.

Hell, you might feel so good; you decide to paint a few flowers on the toilet seat.

After a little, back and forth, chit chat, the heroines little flower will often burst into partial, or _maybe_ even a full radiant bloom by the third or fourth. Plus, now the reader can start to feel a little of that familiar tingle too.

_Okay writer man_ ...when I mentioned the rich hero, I don't mean to say the heroine is _shallow_ or anything. I know women are _all_ about _love_ and _companionship_.

Although I have, well, I doubt if its true, but I _have_ heard stories about how enough zeros on a bank account, will cause a woman to chew her lip to shreds. _Then_ , fully _and_ swiftly _realize_ she has been a _submissive sex slave_ all her life.

Think me shallow if you want, but _that_ shit happens. Hell, it makes sense to me. All my heroines are usually poor as dirt, but I wouldn't be above... shit buy me some new boots an...

...Nah, if a woman bought me a pair, she would soon be trying to tell me when and where to wear them....Hell, you know how all that shit works. I'd probably be better off just to fix up the ones I have...besides their just scuffed up a little.

_Okay_ , Mr. Writer. We all know full well, the heroine would have eventually fallen in love with a poor man, wearing knee britches and brogans.

Well, _maybe_ she would have....

However, if the sad schmuck is poor _and_ ugly, she would clearly have to spend time getting to know him, on a more deep emotional level before anything bloomed. So obviously, that would just be more work for the lazy writer and boring chatter for the reader.

Hell, even then, it would probably be a mediocre bloom. One of those....weelllll Iiiiii gueeess... blooms. It's dry the way I like it and all...so yaaaaah...go ahead and get you some. Just make it snappy, because there is a rerun of "I love Lucy" coming on in just a few.

As you well know, _I_ don't have to _deal_ with all that. But I bet mortal men _simply live_ for a lay like that. Mercy me...

Can you see my point there? So yeah, by _all_ means, _just make_ the hero _obscenely_ rich, and get the heroine dripping right up front.

All that, _I guess_ stuff, would probably even annoy _our_ writer man _. Even if_ he, and apparently some of his associates, like going for it dry.

...Hell, it depresses me just talking about it.

Well, we all know a little alcohol could speed things up. I reckon also, brogan boy could try up sizing the wheels on his Toyota as well.

Then again, I am not saying I miss the old days, that much. It was, as I said, more profitable back then. Although, traveling around or across the country on a horse or wagon, well, that just pretty much sucked.

.............I mean there were rivers to forge, cliffs to climb, mad Indians.

Horse shit everywhere.

Snow....

Piss ants

Besides, if you can nail the heroine early on, it helps lower the stress a little, when she goes off on a tangent. I know, I know, you folks call it conflict, but from where I sit, it's a mad woman _anyway_ ya _slice it_.

Writer boy says my wording about nailing the heroine was crude. I am trying to hurry, so _readers_ just erase that description from your mind, and replace it with... If you are lucky enough to partake of the heroine's delicate flower early on...

....................You would _think_ a modern day writer man, would _at least_ have a coffee pot in his creative space.

Plus, back in the day, spending all that time in a saddle could be rough, even for the most perfectly hued buttocks. It could sometimes even chap firm inner thighs. Hell, you have to know all that is bound to cause trouble, with a man's impeccable thrust.

Whoa, writer man! I am _not_ being shallow here. I know all the thrusting happens, well after a lot of meaningful conversation and the like.

Well, as we all know and as I have said, a little shot of...... that good _Tennessee_ whisky could shorten the conversation...

Although, thrusting _is_ important now, don't cha know?

Readers, I tell you what. If you agree with him and feel I am being shallow. Just take note the next time you're doing something, which involves thrusting. _Then_ , if things should get just slightly off key, you will plainly see how it affects the thruster, along with the thrustee.

Whoa now, my sweet little readers.....don't _dwell_ on the thought very long or it might slow things, and require even more...Then, you will be blaming my ass.

But at least, that will prove I know what to hell _I'm talking_ about.

Oh hell yeah! I finally sensed a few nods _on that_ subject.

I am glad to see that, because _I'm not_ just _making_ this shit up.

Mercy me. Even with that revelation, a couple of you doubters _still_ look ill. I tell you what! I hope your thrusting _does_ get off key. I hope it gets so out of whack he just pulls out and goes to sleep...

...Oh, just so you know, I won't be there to help when you take matters in hand, either.

I don't care about helping _or_ watching you get off anyway. Shit, you would probably have _doubts,_ as to _whether_ your kitty _was_ actually cumming or if it was just some _imaginary spasm_ , that felt a little good.

Next trip, I may bring in my own coffee pot. Mad woman may have broken it though.

Well, hell I already talked about how you could get sent back to ground level, when the thrusting stops or gets off track.

Probably should just buy a new pot. Probably grab a few drinking cups as well. I wouldn't give her the damn satisfaction of going over there, anyhow.

Folks...on a little different note, and I know suggestions from a grumbling, half asleep hero won't carry much weight, but thrusting can be hard work for any man. With that little thought in mind, the next time some of you ladies are _laying_ back all _comfortable_ , while enjoying a little thrust.

_Notice_ I said _some_ of you. The others, well...

....Anyway, for the _sweet_ readers, just remember to keep an eye on your hard working man. I think even more so, if you just fed him a big _super- sized_ supper. Hell, with that in mind, he was probably just a couple of pressure points away from stroking out, before he even mounted up.

I reckon though, if he has a decent enough life insurance ......like I said earlier, enough zeros can...

Hell, I think anyone would like new boots.

On the other hand though, if you like the old boy well enough. When he's getting it done, if you start see his neck tense, and veins in his forehead about to pop. Shit, if he's holding up a 12 pack he might even grunt a little...Well for _heaven sakes_ , reach down and give him a hand.

Well, it's actually just a finger or two, but you get the point. I suspect that happens a lot though. Besides, after years of in-depth research, you know better than he does, as to what makes that, hot little love flower _pop_ its final blossom.

Whoa now! I mean you can't go around telling _him_ that shit... _but_ ...

Hell, why would I even care. You can tell him if you want to.

I think, around three in the evening, they usually make fresh coffee down at the convenience.....

..........However.....I _do_ hear mortal men _can be_ a little touchy sometimes.

Like I said, a sleepy, grumbling hero may not be the place to get advice. However, I think if you even hint to the ideal, that he needs a little more punch in his hunch......

..... Well, I can tell you this much, it won't be long my little friends, before you have to drag out the step ladder, just to get up in his truck.

Plus, his big ass _bear dog_ in the back yard will need a name.

So hell, _don't_ listen to me. Besides you probably won't mind hearing _that_ big son of a bitch out there, charging against his chain and barking ever breathe.

So yeah, hell, just set him down and have that sweet little talk. Hell, you might even set it all off with a sack full of enhancement vitamins.

Yeah folks, I watch late night cable. I mean anyone can see, just how happy those women look, after their man has put in an order.

Yes ma'am re. They look as happy as a.......

........Well, _most_ of you know better, or don't need to have the talk in the first place......but the others...yeah, go ahead...talk to him right now! He will like it _even_ more if you keep your arms folded.

Although, for _all_ concerned, it might have helped _early_ on, if you had made sure he had plenty of coffee. That might have given him just enough _ump_ to get you over the edge.

Yes sir, a stitch in time...

He probably takes a little cream. No sugar though.

.................Someone may have smirked a little, when I kind of presented the bear dog as a negative. I know dogs are wonderful creatures, so Killer will probably warm up to the family in a year or two.

I need to get back at it.

Then, as you well know, along with chapped thighs and a tender ass, the heroine has/had her bad attitude going on for most of cross country trip. There was also a lot of buffalo crap you had to step around.

I tell you what. I may need to take _that_ typing class after all. I mean when you look back over it all, that was _a lot_ of damn work just to get _laid_.

Well, for you, the doubters, it was a lot of work getting to happy ever after. I know that is where you think, we all end up, just kicking and grinning. But shit, even with all the grinning going on, you very well know the implication of such a happy place.

Trust me, there will be thrusting going on.

Hell, I already mentioned, exactly how happy, happy ever after can end up.

Oh yeah, just _happy_ , _happy_. I bet they at least have good coffee though. The grass probably never needs cutting............. Boots always look good.

..............I think though, when it's all said and done, Miss Serena would feed my horse. He may not be all fancy, like the white stallion her back up knight rode in on...but _still_....

_Anyway_ , now days though, the rich and powerful hero usually lives just across town. Although, you have to know his neighborhood is obviously much better, than where the humble little heroine resides.

Well, a lot better, since he is so damned rich and powerful. No brogans for wading through horse shit on this man.

No sir re!

..................Shit, I bet the rich fellow even has _his_ coffee beans _hand-_ picked. Then at just the right moment in time, they are ground to perfection by some famous coffee guru, and _then_ rapidly flown to his heliport.

Hell, why did I even say all that? After all, I am supposed to be telling the truth here. So, when the _truth is told_ , he doesn't have a pot to piss in. The writers, they just tell you all that stuff, and of course you sop up every syllable.

Shit, they will also convince you he is dressed in a three piece suit, and all the while he is waddling around in saggy britches and suspenders.

Shit, he may even have a few teeth missing.

I tell you what, all heroes aint like _me_. I mean back in the day, in order to catch a gig, you had to work hard and fit the part.

Now days though, the writers are in a hurry to get you perked. So in turn, they don't have time to weed through several heroes. They just, up and grab up some hungry _has been_ , to help them keep the story line straight.

Writers! I tell you what; even these idle thoughts, make me want to get up off this couch and slap Bernard.

Ah hell, that would mess up his comb over. Then we would lose an hour while he gets it back _just right_.

Then I reckon too, he _did_ bring me the towel for my boots to rest on.

Hell, a little slapping around might cause him to up his meds as well. I probably shouldn't talk about it and you probably don't even care. However, I do worry a little about all the stuff he takes, especially since I heard about some of the strange side effects.

....Ah hell, all in all he seems reasonably stable, I reckon. However if his left nut jumps into his right shirt pocket, I'll let you know.

Well, I've been pondering a short nap so think I am going to take a little break. I will share more of the _real facts_ about our rich hero a little later.

...................I may run out and grab some coffee. Plus, I am a little worried about my horse, well, my boots too.

I tell you what though, when women get mad, they don't give a _fat rat's ass_ about your stuff. Hell, they might just pile it up in the yard....

................Shit, they ain't no damn rest for the weary, I tell ya.

I see a reader that looks all keyed up. I guess my coffee _and_ nap is out the window. Oh yeah, I can already tell by her expression, we can expect a rave review.....

Writer man seems to love it, but you folks may not care about all this reader stuff. You could always skip over this part I guess. Plus, it might be an excellent time for a doubter or three, to go have more of those little talks with Killers owner.

Hell, you might even have time to sling a side of beef out the back door.

_Hello, uh....uh...yeah..._.

Whoa, easy now. I totally cleared that remark regarding a dick and duck shit.... I had just heard that expression someplace and thought it wa...

Oh okay. You're not upset?

Not at me. Well that's good because I haven't done any...I was ready for a break...

Although, I have been known to piss off a few women by just standing still.

.................. _Well yeah....you might detect a little bluish tint around the head._

...... _..Although, you might be better served if you ask some of your lady friends and see what they say. I mean they mess around with those things everyday..._

I suspect you are just winding his watch up extra tight and..

Okay, so he already told you pretty much the same thing.

Well yeah, now that you mention his words, I guess that could be where the expression, blue vein throbber originated.

Oh, so he said that too?

Well, it sounds like he has you very well informed.

As a matter of fact, yeah, I have heard a few mortal men say they spiked one of those, and then proceeded to take their woman to heaven.

All right then! I actually don't know how much truth there was to all that. They were drinking a little, so if you've never been to heaven... I guess....

Well, I'm not here to vouch for your man's awesome boner. I just saw you reading and looking a little frant...and since I'm here, obviously you were thinking about me.

Whoa, easy now. Don't cry, I am sure when they said heaven, they were just bragging a li...

Oh?! Mercy...Oh yeah, over time I have heard talk of that as well, but in all honestly I don't know anything at all, about how the clap effects a woody... or the lady folk.

Hell, I thought we were just talking about a big raging hard on...I mean any hero knows all...

Hum, so you did too? Yeah I can see how it might have been that way in the beginning. Well, fun too.

I have no information for all that either, but I suspect it could make your tongue swell. Whoa..! Yeah! Shit it might cause that too.

Mercy!

Well, my writer did mention a little redness and maybe a little dripping. He seems to know, a lot about shit like that.

Maybe you should call someone. I can put on a band aide. That is, if I can get that annoying little strip off the back, but.... I'm certainly no medical doc...

... _.Oh okay. Well you obviously did right by getting all that looked at._

I better run, but when you get the call about the test, I hope things will be just fine.

Oh...really...so they pretty much confirmed the clap things then and there. I see. So the test you mentioned is for the cause of so much swelling and rednes..

Well...I hope you get positive news.

Whoa! Easy noow... you already know, calling his wife........well... that will probably just stir up the hornet's nest from hell.

Besides, throbber boy may be hurt, all because he wasn't the one to share the news with her. I would think that kind of news would be important stuff for a loving couple to share.

I mean, you as a woman should know, just how annoying second hand news can be. I just happen to know, women like their news straight from the horses teeth...I mean they love talking and sharing stuff with their man.

Well I guess you're right, it's probably best if some things are not shared...I was just trying to be sensitive.

I had better run. I truly wish you the best....

Whoa...honeymoon....Oh really now!? Yeah, tell me more.... I can stay for another minute or two. I feel a little better.

_Hmm, that's mighty nice of you. I guess he... or... they,_ are _truly having a lot of fun right now._

So how long before they get...

Oh okay. I had forgotten why I was brought into all this. But no, the dick falling off thing was just something I threw out there. No, I never heard of a clit falling off either. So I don't think that's too much of a worry.

I can ask my writer though. Like I said, he seems to...

So, how long before they return from the honeymoon?

Oh yeah? Well he may wear it off but all that stuff about it dropping off... well that was just some of my BS.......

Oh yeah, like I said, I suspect her little clit will hang tough as well. Those little things can take a licking and keep on...well no licking in this case but...

Well, it sounds like you at least know a good doctor. I guess if you insist on talking to her, you can always hook the little bride up when she gets home.

Although, I still think, by contacting her you will blow the doors smack dab off happy ever after.

No really, the honeymoon will likely go well. I reckon their honeymoon equipment will likely hold on for a few more days.

Well, you may be right. I guess if her tongue swells and her clit turns beet red, she still may be a little ticked...

................................I tell you what. All that, just let the air out of my balloon. I tell you what. I have heard mortal men, say _so many_ positive things about a big blue veined throbber...

They say their women _just loved_ all that raging man power.

....But no one _ever_ mentioned a _damn_ word to me, about _anything_ dripping and swelling...

Honestly folks, I best wait till I wake up a little before I even comment further...

..................Nay, bless her heart, I actually enjoyad that conversation. Well, I did after the honeymoon was mentioned. I think happy ever after is such great place, don't cha know.

Well, the sick throbber news was a little bit sad though....

Writer man says I am a little strange, but so be it! In all reality I don't think I'm strange at all. I think it's nice when a little _conflict_ is thrown in someone else's direction.

.................Just to let you know, I was a little surprised by it all, so I didn't even ask what city she was in. I'll find out though. That is, if she pulls me back her way, so to let me know about the test results.

I say that, just in case someone is curious about what throbbing boy looks like. I would imagine if we get his location, you can watch the local papers, his picture may show up soon.

I suspect too, if he aint in the obituaries, he will probably be a single man pretty soon.

Whoa, don't smirk, someone somewhere might be interested. Hell, I hear hardened crimin.... _miss understood victims_ , get more mail than preachers. So all and all, I reckon a few dick troubles are pretty small potatoes.

Can you folks at least see why, I was a little surprised early on when the writer went off, all because I referred to mortals as _strange_?

Plus, he now figures the little problem with the honeymoon drip, can be cleared up in no time.

Basically, if he's right, it sounds like the groom will be back to full throb in no time.

Also, it's pretty obvious he holds a decent enough, romantic resume. After all, he _has_ been keeping a couple of women smiling. Plus... he has wedding experience already, then, if you throw in a couple of weeks in happy land.

Easy now, I am kidding a little. I suspect most of you would figure it a good thing. If _throbbing boy_ quickly changes to, the _dickless wonder_.

I personally think that's a little harsh...... I mean both his women were happy for _a while_. So yeah, he was out there just trying to spread a little cheer. Well, he was spreading other stuff too.....

............Although.... we _all_ know, somewhere out there, lives _that_ one _special_ woman..... She will think on it a while, then say, "I believe _I_ can _fix_ him. Plus, he _has_ probably learned his lesson. There is just _something_ in his eyes, don't cha know. ......After all, his new wife probably didn't _truly_ understand his needs, and his whining little _girlfriend_ is probably just a slut anyhow."

Hell, I don't believe writer man _even_ believes in the fixing part, _and hell_ , he makes up _horse shit_ for a living.

Anyway, we were talking about writer man and his meds. I promise I will get back to the rich hero in a moment. I just need to clear my head for a few.

Whoa now! I am talking about the head that holds up _my hat_!

I admit I get mad at times, but all and all I think writer man handles it all pretty good. But trust me when I say, _he_ was a _major_ doubter when I originally told him _who I was_.

Anyway, he's loving life at the moment. All the while, rubbing in the unfortunate blow back I have received, regarding my _crude_ and _insensitive_ remark about dicks and duck shit.

He could also see, and took pleasure in the fact, that I was visibly crushed by the recent _throbbing_ revelations.

Now he says, since women are calling me from everywhere. I should be a clap doctor.

I think though, he just needs to feel my hands, _clap_ up the side of his head!

_Okay,_ I have recovered from my reader visit and now you understand a little more, as to why I have to clear up _every little_ thing. _Easy_ .... I used the word _clear_ in the context of explaining thangs.

Besides I don't want someone fainting from my insensitivity, and causing the medical community a bunch of extra work.

I suspect enough swollen tongues are wagging about, so to keep'em busy. Then, if you throw in a few hornet stings and gunshot wounds.

Honeymoon accidents.

In all sincerity, I for one, don't think it's _totally_ impossible for a dick to fall off. Well I will concede _falling off_ is a high improbability, but there are other removal methods....

Whoa...Writer boy panicked on that one....Anyway; we will get back to it.

Before I got a little annoyed with writers and went off in left field with the reader....

Well, shit, I _still don't kn_ ow what she thought of the draft.

Oh well, we were talking about how things have changed over time. Oh yeah, we were talking about our _assumed_ rich hero and his sweetie.

I should've stayed on point, I guess because I know the doubters, must be _absolutely_ ecstatic about knowing the real facts.

Mind you, some things in a romance novel are still similar to the old days. Like the fact, the rich hero is not supposed to know how she fawns at the sight of him, or bites her lip at the thought of him. Although, everyone knows and can certainly appreciate, exactly how a love bud even in the early stage of bloom, will cause all those reactions.

Well, I guess a female reader, would understand that. The male reader, well, he most likely figures it's just spike a woody. Throw in a little thrusting, and that's pretty much it. Then if enough pre cuddling is logged... he can sleep.

But fellows, we're talking about a _budding_ flower here, not one that's overdue for picking.

Although, I will agree, a flower that is overdue will often be impressed, at just the _sight_ of a fully _spiked_ woody. So, about all I can say about that situation is, _spike on_ my friends.

A neglected cat will often be impressed as well. I bet the sun will set nice on the lake in just a while. The tattooed kitties were already licking on her nipples. If neglected they may bite....

.....Well, there is my compassion coming through once again.

Yes sir re. I'm _such_ a compassionate man. I reckon that's why I worry about my horse so much.

But hell, I am a dedicated man so I will sit here and keep explaining my life away, while nipples go soft and flowers lose their morning dew.

Plus, some of the damsels I could be saving, back in old England might very well be your great grandma. Well, we would need several more greats added on, but you get my point.

I think though, _that could_ cause some _real_ existence issues, if granny bites the dust.

................Also, if you have a few family members over for supper one evening, and while their gnawing on a chicken bone you happen to catch a side profile just right. _Then_ , if you should conclude they might look a little _dragonish...._.

_There ya go_. If left alone I might have saved grandma's kinky little self. So, _don't_ try and blame my _well defined ass_. Yes sir re, if I just gotten there in time. Aunt Agnes _might'_ ve just been a hottie.

I bet also, my horse is likely looking over the fence, waiting for his supper. Hell, you doubter folks don't need to worry you're little self about all that though. I mean he likes to neigh a lot, even when _he's not_ starving.
Chapter 9

Jared continues to babble his life away.

Okay, writer man. I got this. So just ease on down now. I know the men folks have it going on.

Gentleman please, don't take anything I say all wrong. How you spike and stack your wood for a budding flower, is totally up to you. Plus, I and everyone else on this frigging planet, knows you are packing the best woodshed in town. All men just know that as fact, so hell I reckon it's a gift mortal men are just born with.

I mean, right there is exactly why I held so much hope for the big blue vein.

I tell ya. Just because I'm making a little idle chatter here, that don't mean I am just setting here making up shit. Hell, if you're a doubter, just asked any man and he will quickly confirm, exactly what I said.

Mercy, even if he's just spiking a little twig, he will start talking shit about the motion of the ocean, or trust in the thrust.... The list could go on....

I don't even know why I said that. Everyone knows all that stuff.

I suppose, along with the perfect woody, he also figures he has the thrusting thing, down to a science. Some men might even throw in a little signature wiggle or some shit like that. He probably learned that special move back in high school, maybe when he nailed Betty Jo in the back seat of his mommas Buick.

Shit those special moves, no doubt put little Betty in a tizzy so why ever change anything?

Yes sir re! Use that move every day.

Anyway, let me get back on point and appease the doubters. I don't even know why a writer, uses up their precious muse, telling you about all the conflict stuff. Besides, any good hero, or a half assed one for that matter, knows exactly what's on the heroine's mind, when she's jittering, fawning and biting.

I'll take the risk here, and leave jitters in the last line, even though they may be misplaced.

If anyone's eyes start to bulge, and you feel pressure building in your head. Easy now, just calm right on down, it's all good.

Oh well, for writer man's sake, I will backtrack a little and say for the most part, the hero knows what's on the heroine's mind. I reckon if a man, either hero or asshole thinks he always knows what's on a woman's mind. He better be some damned fictitious character, with a good writer to get his ass down off a frigging cliff!

It might, even help for such a man to be described as a character, who is faster than a speeding bullet or more powerful than a locomotive.

In special cases, maybe, even a broom...

...................I suppose writer man will feel the locomotive, is a little outdated. Probably Stone Age stuff, so we might better go with, a bullet or an SUV.

Although, I reckon if a man, as writer boy suggests, knows how to stack a decent woodpile, he can think whatever he wants. Well, that is probably true, if he has enough hard wood to properly stack. Hell, I guess if he doesn't, he can always wash his truck and pet Killer.

Don't take me wrong about the SUV thing. I know and have made it perfectly clear, all mortal women are sugar and spice and everything nice. I was just saying...

.............I mentioned it a while back and didn't say much about it, but it still keeps bothering me a little. Although, I don't make much money when books are sold, I still like to know my writers get read a lot. With that in mind, I probably should just keep my mouth shut here, and just leave well enough alone.

However......even though the mortal male, is the prime reason for most of the romance book sales. I still worry about what I said, in regards to him never changing anything, when he is busy loving his woman.

I know, writer man will probably tell me later, how most mortal women actually prefer, to have their lovemaking practiced and choreographed, well in advance of the first kiss.

However.....I don't think that will be altogether true, because it's been my experience, that almost all my heroines and mortal women alike, always seem to like it when things are changed up a bit.

........... ..Well...there was this one mortal woman, who had to have orange marmalade on her right nipple....I thought that was a little much... Plus, it caused me to lose focus, because I started thinking on a hot biscuit and butte...

............Fellows, don't get me wrong, as I have said many times before. I know and thoroughly understand you have some hot shit going on. So all I'm saying or suggesting is, it might not hurt to shake things up a bit.

Hell, in all honesty back in the day, Betty Jo could have been just coming off a long dry spell. With that little thought in play, I think anyone should at least consider that as a possibility, before locking in the special moves for a lifetime.

Shit everyone knows how even a short drought can be. So if Betty's dry spell had lingered for a while, she could have just made you think, you were feeding her kitty a catnip boner.

I mean that's just a few thoughts from a simple man...but...

Whoa! It's all good, writer fellow says men know very well how to change things. Okay, for his sake I will say that is true for some... but...

However, for the few gentlemen out there, that might be holding on to the past. I am not even suggesting you get all handy, and start bolting swing supports in the ceiling.

..................Well, then again those swings can be pretty fun.

............I say fun because....well...it positions her real nice. Her height can be adjusted just right and it keeps her legs spread nicely, and I reckon it's comfortable for her.

Hell, I may need to suggest a little swinging, to some of my future writers. Shit, that would be easier than heaving some heroine up on the wall.

So maybe I was wrong. It might be a good idea for mortal.....

......However...... I think if a man has a short di....is length challenged, then I think he is just wasting money and screwing up his ceiling.

Because......technically....... I don't know exactly how far he would have to move his woman back and forth, in order to officially say she's swinging. I suppose there's a rule or law for that someplace.

...........................I guess though, the length challenged fellow could just stand still and shake her a little. Hell, I don't know what to say about that. I guess, just do what you want. If it doesn't work, it won't be my hued from granite ass, up there fixing the damn ceiling.

Anyway, all I was trying to say earlier, was maybe change things up a little. Surprise her every now and again.

However, since everyone seems to take things so literally, I better clear that up a little. So, not only should you leave the ceiling alone, you don't need do some crazy shit, like suddenly running a finger up her ass for change, then yelling snake for the surprise.

I tell you what folks; you never know what a mortal man wil....

........................

...................................................................Well hell, writer man says, the snake yelling might be a little farfetched, but the sudden finger usually works pretty good.

Shit......well.........I guess he does get creative in this little space. Well, there's no finger stuff going on here and now....I just...

......Here again, I am at a loss for words..... I mean.....

I have to admit, I've always been firmly sold on the idea, of you just never ever know.

However........his woman just stopped in a little bit ago. Shit.....she even brought coffee, and that quickly raised her a notch on my list..... She looked just as innocent......kind of quiet like....who would have ever...

We even walked outside.....I looked over her truck....it wasn't overdone. She said she had a couple of horses stabled just outside of Atlanta. So she used the truck to haul a little hay, grain and the like.

Writer man has a dog house out back. But he doesn't actually own a dog. So she was kidding him a little about all that.

....I didn't say anything, but the way he's been acting lately. I suspect if Killers cousin "Mauler" ever comes up for adoption....

Well hell....I don't know.....like I said the woman seemed just as regular as rain....

Shit...I guess her quiet nature is just for the public though. I mean folks, you have to know, she screams like a damned shocked cat, when he implements that little trick.

..........Well, the coffee and the news of a little finger action perked me up. ..............Easy now, my nipples are fine. I'm just talking about feeling better in general.

So we will get back to the facts.

Then naturally, a little controversy is tossed in for our rich hero and sweet little heroine. This usually happens in the third and fourth chapters to bring up the word count. I guess that also gives the doubters a little time to come around. That way, they can be fully charged for experiencing the first love scene.

Yes sir re. You eat up every word the writers throw at you.

Then, here I am, just trying to share a few true facts.

...................................I wonder if I should bring in a sidekick. He might offer a little authenticity.

Oh well. If some of you doubters are having trouble with the thrusting concept, I don't wish you any bad luck with your back up system. I don't mean to sound spiteful at all. But hell, you know all too well, how it is when the little batteries sometime weaken.

Mind you now. With the usual conflict going on, that don't mean the heroines little flower has lost its bloom. I guess, in all honesty, it could maybe wilt back somewhat. Then again, she might burn up a case of batteries in the off hours, just thinking about such an awesome and rich hero.

Hell, she might even do it on her knees, so to feel properly submissive.

Yes sir, she's rubbing and stroking her little kitty, with visions of a superman dancing in her head. Toys scattered everywhere, money all over the bed.

Ha ha...Then shit, all the while she's getting it done, the real, suspender wearing hero, is probably watching and grinning.

Keep in mind though, when I mentioned how the writers just grabs up a hero....well...the heroine on her knees getting it done, may not be a piece of candy either.

Shit, the hero may even have his side kick there, checking out her moves as well.

However, when the word count is satisfied, you have the strong, fiery, hungry, all-consuming kiss.

Yeah, you know the kind I mean, shivers, weak knees, breath taking and the like.

Well anyway, that usually.... or shall I say, always, perks up the little flower. I mean you have to remember now, that was one helluva of kiss. Strong arms surrounding her, taking full control of her. Plus, he's rich as hell. I suspect with all that going on, she probably melts like a pat of butter, in the hot Georgia sun.

Hell you know the scene very well, probably been there yourself. Well you might not associate it with butter, but you get my drift.

Here we go..... Writer man says some folks, might just like being rubbed down with butter.

.....I don't doubt he's right so if that slicks the trick...Well I guess a little butter, could help ease the shock of the sudden finger.

Then again, from the way he talks, the poor woman likes getting dry fucked. I guess, so he can get her to wiggle and moan a little extra.

...............I bet he has to get that dog pretty soon, and no doubt it will be one ferocious son of a bitch too. Mauler will probably make Killer look like a lap dog.

........I mean I've met a lot of the lady folk, who enjoy a little of the back door fun...but not suddenly!

Hell, things they be a changing, I reckon. Shit for all I know, so to enhance both their pleasures, Writer man may keep a couple of those, handy little vibrating butt plugs on the night stand.

...............Yeah...maybe she should, just up and shove one of those mothers up his ass......I bet he'd clinch.... Yeah. Probably snap that thing right in half....

...... So anyway, with the big melting kiss going on, the little wilted flower will instantly burst back to full bloom. Then, it starts to drip with the early morning dew. The hard wood is delivered. Thrust is activated and so forth.

Well, I guess that ain't a news flash, you know how that gets things up and running, so now; all is right with the world.

........I honestly think a good side kick, would help deflect some of this doubt. He would probably grab us another cup of coffee too.

Anyway, then you have the previously mentioned kitties, that just want to be left alone. I still don't know what to say about all that. I guess it's like having a dog that won't hunt, but anyway, our sexy little heroine is rocking though. Therefore, the doubters are all happy too.

Oh yeah, I touched on it earlier, but I think the fact you can find out how slippery the dew might be, well before, you get to happy land, is one of the better ideas or major improvements of modern day.

I mean, that just makes perfect sense to me. I know most mortal men would have to agree as well. Well, the women too, I guess. Well, I hear it sometimes adds a few extra little mortals to the planet...but...That's no never mind to me...You folks seem to like them well enough.

.......I bet the testing concept even seems sensible for the doubters. After all, common sense would tell you, just how bad it would suck, if you travel all the way to happy lands, then find out you have brought along a love flower that won't bloom, or a kitty that won't arch its back.

Hell, you could possibly end up with a head bobber, sporting a chipped tooth, and then you're screwed for certain.

Yes sir, I reckon danger even lurks in happy land.

Yeah, see what I'm talking about, folks?

I mean, all that would be bad. No, it would be catastrophic, especially, if the journey was heavily mired with controversy. Not to mention, the saddle sore ass, chapped thighs and arrows.

Quick sand...

Cattle rustlers...

...........Shit, looking back over the years. I've even had a few people shake their finger at me. I guess I should have whipped their ass then and there, but back then, hell, I didn't understand the real implications.

................ I don't think they were holding a stick of butter either.

Yes sir re..... To deal with all the aforementioned danger, then, to up and have a dead flower at the end of the road. I mean shit, in theory, you folks are just supposed to have one shot at happy town.

Well you can obviously see my point.

........................Hell, I bet ending up with a bad or sluggish flower would even annoy the aforementioned, filthy rich Hero. Maybe not so much in the beginning, because I am sure the writer would have assured you, the modern hero completed his sensitivity training and all.

Plus, in your imagination he can obviously buy all the flowers he wants. I guess a big collage if the mood strikes. But since he's so sensitive and all. He would likely try to find a little life in the flower he brought along.

Well, I say he could buy all that, just to keep the energy up, for the doubters. I best stay honest though. So in reality, he probably couldn't afford a little extra gravy, for his chicken fried steak.

The writers just....

Plus, this assumed rich hero probably can't even ride a fucking horse; much less fight off a bunch of mad outlaws. I tell you what, I've done it all! Then, to have all this fucking doubt heaped upon my shoulders.

................Well, that sounded a little dramatic but...I just hear folks say stuff like that....

I believe though, if outlaws or even cannibals are involved, that is where a sidekick would come in handy. If his boney ass ends up roasting on a spit, so be it.

Well, I might be a little sad for the poor guy, but most of you readers could give a shit.

Yep, just another casualty of the conflict, I reckon.

........................However, the really annoying part might come into play, therefore testing our hero's sensitivity training. If, he really had a hankering for the flower he brought to happy land. After all, he had already dealt with all the conflict and lip biting. Hell, he probably even held her, while she was dealing with a case of the jitters.

Oh yeah, you doubters will love this part, but he might have actually been so taken by the whole thing, he fell madly in love along the way. Maybe she had a nice smile or something.

Hell, for all we know, he could have a case of the jitters himself.

Shit, he may have even chewed on his lip so much he has a fever blister. His eyes might be all glassy with the headlight look.

Can you see what a pitiful fuck he would be? Yeah, all that bull shit and he's still jacking off.

However, to give his woman fair credit, she might try to get her flower to bloom. But folks, if she just lays there and chews her gum and yawns, it ain't gonna work.

.............................I'd guess though that holds true even if she offers up a grunt or moan every now and again. It won't even work, if she throws in the occasional grunt and body flop, just to try and prove she's orgasm friendly

Now, my little doubters, what to hell is the great hero supposed to do?

We already know he's much too sensitive to bring in that collage of back up flowers..........I suppose you might suggest they could cuddle a lot. Well... I don't know about all that, since that might just cause him even more frustration.

........No, I wouldn't even suggest he shove a finger up her ass. Hell that would probably erase that nice smile...then you're out altogether.

.......I guess though, he could try just a little finger action, just for shits and grins...but...

Writer man says don't knock it till you.....

......................I don't have time to ponder on that though. I'm in the middle of important shit here...

Well, in all reality, you know exactly what the hero will have to do, at least for a while. I reckon though, that's why you mortals have made internet porn such a huge industry.

I guess back in the old days, before computers enlightened the world, the farm animals might've even started looking cute after a while.

Easy now, just kidding a little folks, I threw that out to try and excite our special one.

Anyway, just so you doubters know. Happy ever after, well it won't be happy long, if he has to sit around smoking and a stroking.

Well, I reckon she will be happy though. She can focus her energy on changing all the furniture. Maybe fire all the decent looking female help. She may even start to convince, the once horny hero of how sex is grossly overrated.

Yep, just like a sorry assed man, wanting to fuck while the furniture ain't right.

Plus, he needs to remove those silly swing hangers and re-paint the ceiling. I don't know what he was thinking!

I suppose at the end of the day, a nice arrangement of the furniture, is better than a bear dog snarling and growling.

But still...after all folks, lest we forget, we are smack in the middle of happy land.

...............I best retract the smoke comment I made earlier, because a modern romance hero probably doesn't smoke. The real one dips a little snuff, but the writer won't tell you any of that shit.

Whoa now! Don't take me wrong here. I am not saying all that bad luck couldn't happen for the sweet little heroine as well. As you probably already know, it's hard to stack soft wood, even in happy town.

Well, my writer insists I be kind so you might not know about soft wood. ........ I guess though, if you're curious at all, you could try stacking cooked spaghetti or pushing it through a key hole. Then, you would understand what the dear woman was going through.

However, I guess, since she is now filthy rich as well, she could keep a good supply of fully charged batteries on the shelf. Plus, the pool boy might be good about, inserting a stick of hardwood into the mix.

...........Then there is always the butler. I hear folks always saying the butler did it, so I guess she'll be fine.

....................In all honesty though, the butler is probably just a good hard working man. Writers just seem to get off, by blaming him for every damn little thing.

Oh well, I guess all that don't matter none. I just played great writer for a moment, so it's all just made up shit anyway.

Whoa now, writer man and his ass friendly finger, that was true though. ..................I guess maybe truth, really is stranger than fiction.

Besides, in the doubter's world they are all basking in eternal bliss anyway. Nice orderly furniture and orgasms popping like corn on a hot stove.

Okay, corn in the microwave.

Well hell, like I said all that was hypothetical stuff anyway. Although, if it were true, a little of the normal, everyday conflict was probably all the rich hero would've had to deal with.

With her flower, obliviously in full bloom early on and with him maintaining a strong financial portfolio, he likely just looked at her and grunted. Besides, we already learned she's been a submissive sex slave since birth.

...........Easy now, I reckon a man could drop a lot of his attitude as well, if her bank numbers look good. I bet our real Hero would even get his teeth fixed.

So yeah, the grunt was probably sufficient.

I think even after thinking on all that, I would still prefer to buy my own boots though. I hate moving furniture. Hell, it's still all the same stuff anyway, you just look at it from a different....

.......Writer man is fretting, saying someone might be offended by my earlier remarks, regarding the chewing gum with the occasional moan.

Mercy sakes................Okay, let me clear that up, even though I made it absolutely clear, that it was just a made up scenario.

Can you see why he frustrates me?

I reckon, I should maybe go watch a little porn myself. Hell, I already missed the sunset on the lake, while trying to appease him and some of these people.

Anyway, to clear the air once again, let me just say. I know when your man is getting things done, there is not a single one of you ladies, rich or poor, who would ever think of chewing gum or uttering a fake moan. So with that in mind, I was probably wrong to even suggest, someone might do a body flop, in order to fake an orgasm?

............... Well, without this clarification. I could likely be hung or stoned, for even hinting at such a thing. At least writer boy thinks so.

Therefore, in order to offset all that and save my neck. I will say...... I know beyond a shadow of a doubt...well that might be a little stretch in confidence. So, I will just say, the hunger in your full lips always eagerly greets the taste of his kiss. Yes sir re. The dog that won't hunt is suddenly on point. Yeah, growling and pawing the ground with all four.

With his first caress, juices soon flow and your body starts to respond with excitement and anticipation. In the heat of the moment, a pillow falls from the couch, and to your lovers surprise; you only halt for a second to get it back in place.

After the minor distraction is behind you, your body soon starts to again tremble with every caress, as his knowing touch explores every thirsty pore of your heated flesh. In the moments of blind passion, you try and wiggle your way down to free and get at his cock. He gently restrains you for the moment, so to prolong your rage of indiscernible lust. You obey his silent command, and your long supple legs eagerly open wide so to welcome, his every tantalizing touch. His deep demanding kiss, along with his fore mentioned exquisite touch, even surprises you a little, when you realize all the pillows are out of order, and you're still teetering on the edge of sheer delight. Yeah, you're wiggling and moaning like a porn star. I personally think they over do the moaning a little...But.... anyway, you want this feeling to last forever, so you try to ignore the couch in disarray, and gain control of your raging emotions.

Well, maybe it will be at least fifteen or twenty minutes. ........But it would be a little good if the pillows were back in.....

However, his expert touch of your sensitive and desire soaked bud, serves (keep in mind soaked is optional) to send sensations over you, that cannot, or will not be contained. When you look into his adoring eyes, your mind and body can take no more. He senses your moment, and when the waves of pleasure overwhelm, strong arms reach out to hold you.

To be fair and include everyone as writer man suggest, if you are someone who can squirt a little, just fill up his hand. That will help to wet things up even more, for when he drags out his huge hunk of man power.

Whoa! That is if you choose wet as a positive option. I guess too, the couch cushions can be easily cleaned. No, don't worry none about that...

Anyway, his arms hold you close until the pleasure waves subside. I know with so much intensity in your orgasm, all that took a while longer than I made it sound. I mean you were obviously fighting for breath, with nails ripping into his flesh an all.

............... Yes sir re. No body flop for you. I should've never even suggested, that could ever happen. So there is no doubt in my mind, you were quivering and trembling like an opossum crapping peach seeds. Probably humping his leg and all, as any horny woman will do.

..... However, you finally regain your senses and move from his arms. Well, the little aftershocks are still shivering you a little...but...that delicious pleasure was just the first of many to come.

Once those telling eyes and gentle hands, have directed him back on to the bed. You hear a low moan escape his lips, when he feels soft kisses and a tender caress, move slowly down over his body.

His anticipation builds with every pleasing second, and he soon feels your hand eagerly encircle the point of your desire. When you're soft warm lips surround him.....Whoa....the sudden deep throat caught him by surprise, causing his leg to bump...mercy me.... he dislodged some stuff on the coffee table.

Whoa...The disheveled pillows were one thing...but...

Writer man says the point is sufficiently made.

Well, that was rushed a little, but I feel it touched on enough high points, to reflect everyone's strong level of raging desire. Plus, I don't really think all that much stuff was broken on the coffee table. I guess everything will be back to normal in a week or two.

Writer man says enough, but damn, he was the one that said I might offend. So let me also further emphasize the fact, that I fully understand and appreciate, you have the best little kitty there ever was, or ever will be. Yes sir re....

Hell, if you remember, I already pointed out how almost all men have the best deal going as well. Therefore, when you combine the very best, there is nothing to say about the rest.

.....I mean you have to know, any little hungry kitty would go absolutely wild, when it feels eight inches of catnip doing a little of the stray cat strut. ...Well, in the last scenario it was almost eaten first....but...I suppose men should be thankful for the gag reflex...

............I still believe the copper colored coins would be a great investment though...I bet a sidekick would buy a few.

Well, I reckon that should clear the air. So let me get back to, hopefully lowering the doubt level.

.............................Nah, hell, when it's all said and done, I don't miss the old days that much. Ah hell, it tis what it is. So I won't, thump on the writers drum any further or bitch about my pay.

Shit, I've had so much writer and woman trouble over time. I had even been thinking a little, on giving up the life of a professional hero. However, once I decided on my vacation, I changed my mind, but before all that came about. I'd been thinking heavily, about being a part time greeter at the local retail store.

Actually, I think it would've been, just pretty damn peaceful out collecting those shopping carts as well. Hell, at least I could have watched the mortal men, enjoy a scrap with their little heroines for a change.

.................However, I bet the, asphalt and cart pushing, would be hard on a man's boots.

......Here again, I think we have a legitimate case for a side kick. He could handle the cart pushing and shit, while I keep an eye on the women folks. I suspect you could see a lot of good conflict if you keep an eye out.

Don't laugh now, because you don't know what a woman will do, if her hero makes her mad enough.

Hey, shit can happen, folks, especially if she's just had the little talk about him lacking, punch in his hunch. Plus, they could also be there buying crazy glue, so to fix what the dick head broke on the coffee table.

....Well hell, writer man, cut me a little slack. I was playing a little. So just ease on down. I know mortal folk do the best they can. Besides, when the doubters are put to rest, I'll tell you a little secret on why mortals have to deal with so much conflict. Whoa now, don't get excited, the aforementioned secret was not revealed to me, while a bunch of lightning bolts bounced around in the sky.

..........Neither did I find the secret in some off the wall cave, while seven million snakes crawled around at my feet. Shit, if that had been the case, I wouldn't have learned nothing anyway, because I would've had to go save my screaming heroine. Hell, we know without doubt, while I was trying to soak up the knowledge of love and life, she would've wondered off alone, just to see why so many human skeletons were scattered around in this one room....

Yes sir re...you gotta love'em though.

..................No writer man, the spirit of Elvis didn't tell me any of the secret........ I tell you what though, you better not say anything negative about the late and great Elvis. Cause any man. I mean.... any man that could turn on as many women as he did....well... he will certainly always have my utmost respect.

......Yes sir re....all that man had to do, was just show up and....I suspect though, he was probably a knight in a former life...but...

..........But anyway, now that you know more about the true life of a hero. You can see why I talk about chicken or chicken fried steak, instead of a porter house. A damned new pair of boots on occasion would be good too.

Well, I don't know. At the end of the day, chicken is pretty dammed goo... It has to be cooked just right of course...

.....I'm still a little on the hungry side...

Ah hell, this story ain't about good cooking. So I will get along and try to further explain things. After all, I am just a humble hero with no zeros on my account, so I reckon if I starve to death, it's just tough little titty.

................Oh, just one more, damned thing. Now really folks, if I had a billion in diamonds stashed away someplace, don't you just know, I would own a damned decent pair of boots?

Shit, if I was rich and had a side kick, I would deck him out with a new pair as well.

I tell you what. That diamond writer was full of shit as a Christmas turkey.

That's, the way they are though.

But hell, as long as you people lap up every word. Then, turn right around and get all doubtful like, when you have to face the fucking truth...

.....That really makes me mad. I tell you what, they ain't nothing easy. I can't get laid without conflict. Now I can't even tell my story without it either. Writer man is constantly bitching and I can't believe someone would doubt I exist.

Hell, I am standing right here.

Plus, I need a damned new pair of boots!

....Of course, I can't wear them on my vacation, but they would wear well when I get home.

I think I would get a brown pair. Not with the high riding heel and...

A couple of shirts and some boot cut jeans would be good as...

My horse is probably starving, plus I still aint heard a damn word from the woman with the sore tongue.

Hell, mortal men are always bragging about spiking one of those famous throbbers. So hell, I think we all need to know if it's magic or tragic.

Shit, I don't know what this world is coming to!?

......................Actually, I don't know what that last statement means exactly. Mortal folk just say it when they get all frazzled.

Okay, I will get back at it.

However, sadly, for the doubters at least, I must tell you a lot of the romance heroes and heroines, never make the cut for happy land. I guess that's a good thing though, but it took society years to reign in Jack the ripper, after some writer created him, then up and the dropped the ball. I suspect though, most just drift off to happy ever after. Yeah, you know that's right. I mean you doubters know that's true, because some writer told you.

However, as I said, here in the real world a lot of heroes bite the dust early on. That, my friends, is almost what happened to me in the, so called, diamond heist ordeal.

.........................Hell, come to think of it, maybe I was wrong for blocking the writer in that story. If I had diamonds dropping off my ass, maybe the mad woman wouldn't be a problem. Shit, I could have probably, just went with the grunt technique, and she would have knelt humbly at my feet.

Yep...... I wouldn't want her lips chewed up, but the other stuff would've worked all right, I reckon. I mean she knows how to use those lips...chewing just isn't...

........Yeah, I can see it all now.

..............Ah ha. Oh yeah. I can certainly visualize all that, every step of the way.

Yes sir re........ A good throaty, manly grunt tossed in her direction, would say it all. I watch as she walks quietly to the closet and puts away her broom, then returns and kneels as directed. I suppose everyone, can plainly see and understand, just exactly how all that would work. You also may visualize her look of intense desire as she awaits further commands.

Yeah.....Another demanding grunt from me, may allow you to see even more, of the building desire within her. Well, actually, she would be so submissive she couldn't look up, but if she could, you would definitely see her eyes filled with hungry desire.

No, scratch the hungry desire, its pure burning lust.

Folks, as you can surmise, it's pretty obvious, she wants me with every fiber of her humble being.

Yes sir re.

I suspect too, as a submissive one, she is fantasizing about being tied up and things getting rough. Yeah, just use her body entirely for my pleasure.

With that thought.......I should've invested in one of those mouth balls a long time ago.

Anyway....you would probably even see a slight tremble of her hands, as she eagerly and obediently, works to loosen my belt.

No doubt, you would hear her breath escape and see a slight shiver of her body, when her fingers eagerly surround the heated flesh of my rock hard cock...... Now folks, just keep in mind now, there might be a throb and drop of anticipation here, but nothing is blue or reddish.

Knowing her ways, I suspect her tongue would quickly seek and capture the first gleaming drops of my desire. Well, not without permission from me, the awesome one, but...

.....................Well folks, I am glad you can hear and see it all so vividly. Some of you might even taste it. ... However.... the hard cold truth is, as soon as her knees hit the floor, the toes of yours truly would've been crushed so yeah, my eyes would have been instantly blurred.

I mean shit, I just thought, she was just putting her broom away. I didn't even know there was a hammer in that closet.

Sorry, I know everyone loves a story about a hot submissive woman. But sadly, here, in the real world of a chicken eaten hero...

Ah hell, what am I saying? I would never want her spirit to be broken. Well, maybe just a ...Nah, maybe the handle of her broom, but never that fiery spirit.

Although, at times I think the mouth ball could...

.........I reckon though. When it's all said and done. I suspect there would be a lot of good things I could say, in regard to a submissive woman. Along with several other positive things, at least I wouldn't have to worry about getting my boots on, because of swollen toes.

Please, I don't mean to again sound soft. I understand a few sore toes would not cause the monumental, career destroying damage that might be suffered, should a hero lose his tongue.... or heaven forbid, his massive hunk of man flesh.

All and all though, I just feel it would be hard to command respect as a Hero, if a man's out stumbling around in his bare feet.

....................Hell, when it's all said and done, submissive woman just may be the ticket.

................Well shit, as you might somehow guess, typing boy didn't think all that was fair to the lady folks. He says, how submissive or dominant, a woman wants to be is her absolute right. I think secretly folks, he kind of liked the mouth ball idea though.

I don't even know what to say about all that, because I've said a lot of nice things about the lady..........

........ Just so you know, he and I just had a little squabble about all that. I hope he writes this down because he still looks a little put out. Well, I'm not sure put out is the word. Pensive might better describe his look of the moment..... I mean he looked so disheveled a minute or two ago, we had to walk outside for a few. I actually think at one point there, he was almost ready to ask for one of my Marlboros.

.....Anyway, I was a little fed up with him always saying, I was insensitive toward the ladies. Like I said though, writer man seems pretty rattled, so I guess what I said to him might just shock a few other old boys as well. Hell, if his expression is an indication, some may spook and straight away, head off to visit the head doctor of choice.

Anyway, what upset the apple cart, was when I again told him I didn't think the ladies were quiet as sensitive and down trodden, as some might suspect. ................Hell, I don't get mad that easily, but you folks know damn good and well, I've tried to clear that shit a dozen times already.

However, when I went a little pissed. I just up and told him the hard cold facts. Facts that I should have told him early on, I reckon. Anyway, in a moment of anger. I finally up and just told him, the reason I thought the women folk weren't as pitiful as he thought, was simply because, hell, they own half the world's wealth and all the pussy!

.............Oh well, he looks a little better now. I guess the breath of fresh air helped. I did right, I guess, because while we were outside I stayed quiet, and let him just be alone with his thoughts. I think we both looked over the empty dog house, and pondered on that a little.

.......Although, I couldn't help but wonder a little, about why he seemed so shaken by that little tidbit of news. Then, since he was so shaken, that's when I started to worry about the other mortal men.....

Hell, I can't say much here, or I will be reprimanded again.................Shit for all I know though, maybe some men think, their....yeah....their dear old uncle Wilbur, might keep a few boxes of spare pussies, stashed on the upper shelf in his basement. ...........I mean shit, he keeps everything else down there....
Chapter Ten

Jared Figures the Doubters May Have Hurt His Feelings

Please don't get me wrong, folks. I am not all that upset about everything we've discussed thus far. I just get a little off key now and again. Well, maybe I do get a little more ticked than I should, when I think on it all. Hell, I don't even have an uncle or basement...much less an upper shelf.

...................Although, I don't think wanting enough money for a new pair of boots, is all that big of a deal. I bet you reader folk don't like wearing old scuffed up shoes. I guarantee, there is fourteen plus pair in your closet right now.

As a matter of fact, if you look through all those shoes, you might even find those misplaced batteries. Yes sir re.

..................Plus, we all know the damn writers can get a new pair whenever they want. .....Yeah, yeah...those damn writers.

The idea of a frigging white Knight pisses me off as well....

....................Plus, as we speak, the great white stallion may be nosing my horse out of the feed trough.

..................I guess I do sound like I am a little intense, but I believe that is just because I'm taking things slow, in order to be thorough for the lovely, sweet, annoying doubters. Plus, as you can see, my writer makes me explain every other fucking word. That shit would make anybody mad, I reckon. He also, keeps asking me a bunch of off the wall questions. Hell, I don't know why I suppress things. I didn't even know I did...

......Then, I's the one that had to be all nice like and calm him down, after he realized the cold facts about the great pussy monopoly!

.............However, I'm happy go lucky most often. I usually won't even swat a fly, unless it bites me.

Also, most of what I say throughout the story is said with a grin. Well, maybe not when it comes to stealing diamonds and my boots. Then, as you know, there's that little thing with the writers, which annoys the living shit out of me.

Well, the mad woman thoroughly pisses me off as well.

Then yeah, there is the whole white Knight issue.....

Plus, about the time I decided to experiment a little, and be more like mortal men. Well hell, all my hopes of spiking a famous blue boy was suddenly dashed. I mean it was no big deal. I had just heard a lot of great things. Therefore, I had imagined all the women just loving life while riding hard....No conflict to speak of.....

...... It was just a few little idle thoughts, I guess...but still.....

Well we all know, how all that blue shit worked out. I still haven't heard a word though.

Fuck!............ Then I possibly have a knight out there at the house. Hell, he probably comes, fully equipped with a blue knight throbber. Mercy, mad woman may be out shopping for knee pads as we speak................... Yeah shit, she can suck that on that awesome thing, till his head caves in for all I care.

Whoa! ....Here I go repeating myself again! .....................I think explaining all this, just might, be getting me down a little.

Hey, with me taking time to talk things out, maybe this is like the therapy so many of you mortals swear by.

Writer boy says talking things out is good.

Him agreeing and saying that, is a little scary.

Hell, maybe I'm as fucked up as some morta........have issues like some mortals.

With that little thought in mind, regardless of what writer man says, talking so much might not be a good thing. Shit, no wonder some folks are so screwed... might have some minor issues.

............I suspect though, it's a pretty good gig for a therapist. Come back next week, so we can talk about all the shit we stirred up this week.

Hell, some of you crazy ass...slightly disturbed people might be better off than you think.

Yeah. I bet you're fine as frog hair. I mean hell, when I started all this talking I was good. Shit, I was all pumped up about my vacation and the like. I mean I felt some concern for little Jared, while off vacating in a strange land. .....I think that's to be expected though.

..................Although...... I just have to wonder, how hard it could be to do the therapist thing. After all, as you know, I'm pretty fed up with being a hero. Plus, I'm always on the lookout for a business niche.

...........Shit, that might be easier then training knuckle draggers to be soul mates.

.........Really though, I think I'm pretty solid, my boots are a little scuffed.....

............Okay, writer boy, I will stop worrying about my damn boots so much....but I...

............Plus....I actually think the doubters might've hurt my feelings. Whoa, don't get excited sensitive lovers. I won't cry.

..................... I think it all just surprised me a little.

Besides, I hate it when a woman folds her arms and looks all....

Actually, I always thought the arm folding was just a mad heroine thing. Likely thought up by some writer, just to piss me off. But, hell, I guess momma taught mortal women a few things as well.

................Mercy, maybe I should try and get a drawer full of meds like writer man. I mean, he's suggesting I try some. He even says he can hook me up.

.......Nah, I really don't think...... ..................Besides, my left nut seems perfectly content right where it is.

Hmm...I admit I was a little down after Serena and I split. I guess that's a natural thing. Although, we have gone through all that a hundred times so....

...Then, I started planning my vacation....I even ditched my cart pushing and greeter plans.

Well, as I've said, it all pisses me off, but I never get depressed about it. Hell, readers, wouldn't all that shit piss you off?

Plus, as a hero, I have learned to deal with almost anything. I mean to tell you folks, even wearing their nice shoes, a writer can come up with some depressing stuff.

I think though, if I had new...things for my feet... I would be happy as a clam. A side kick might help as well.

.....Yeah..... as you well know, some heroines just love, dealing with a troubled soul. Hell, if it was left up to them and the writers. I'd have probably endured so much agony and turmoil over the years; I would've shot myself long ago.

.......Although, I guess that might make good reading for you folks. After all death stories are always good. Yeah, you would probably drink in every word of that malarkey. All the while, I'm lying there belly up and gut shot.

Yeah....hacking up blood and shit. While trying my best to formulate a few parting words. I have a lot to say... so ...........I have no idea what those words would be...but...

.............Then fuck, you folks turn right around and doubt me. I mean shit, do you think some writer is going to take the time, to actually sit down and tell you the real facts?

Well, I think not! They want you scooping up every word of their farfetched ramblings. Hell, they're usually loony as a fruit cake, before they even begin a story. So you very well know, when they're in full bullshit mode, it can't be pretty....

.............However, you also have to know, the death bed thing, would really tingle the doubters. Well, I don't want to be in bed when I die....then again....

Anyway, regardless of cause or location. I suspect you folks would love seeing blood running down my chin, when I try to utter my few last words.

....Well hell, I guess since you folks like death a lot, an earth departing man could stir up a little excitement, if he called in all the neighbors to his bedside. Then ask if they've ever wondered why all their kids look just like him.....

......... The sick fuck might also make mention to Bob down the street, about that camping trip and the stray sheep incident.

Whoa! That was just all hypothetical, so if you're kids favor the neighbor, it ain't my damned fault....

However, shooting myself, well, that shit would hurt! Plus, if I bite the dust, my future sidekick would be lost and confused.

Hell, even a minor graze to the small toe would be bad. I would probably survive and all, but it would do further damage to my...unmentionables..... We have word count issues you know.

No worry though, there are plenty of desperate heroes waiting to be called up. Some would even die just to snag a gig. So there you go.

Personally though, I think they may as well go ahead and bite the dust. I mean, all they do is whine anyhow, because obviously, no one understands them except the one heroine.

I mean shit, when your world is that limited, what are you gonna do? I mean, if she doesn't like your crying ass, that's it!

Okay...I'm gonna snap out of this right now. Hell, my...bo.... foot wear is beat up as it is.

I tell you what writer man. You're the cause of all this damn shit. I still don't want any of your meds though.

Hell, before I started all this, I was a proud hero. Yes sir, I would pick up a story line. Turn on the charm a little so the heroine can bite her lip. Then a little or a lot of conflict, then, I get laid.

................I guess all and all that might not have been so bad...well no... the writers, they just....heroines they just always...

I reckon even if I am a little down, I'm a single man now and I hear a lot of mortal women, like trying to heal a down trodden and troubled soul.

Yes sir re. I can hear them now. I can save that miserable fuck! It's been a slow week at work so....

I think, the looker over Savanna way is trying to draw me in her direction. I tell you what. I think that woman could smooth over a lot of... I mean anyone with eyes, can plainly see she aint getting enough.....

Well writer man says that's crude. So as it turns out, she's not being, adequately celebrated by her husband.

Yes sir re. All that long dark hair wrapped around me, could equal a lot of therapy time. .......Yeah, mercy me, that would certainly be a celebration of some sort.

.............Hell, even if my hope for a true blue is dashed, the miserable fuck role might still be a new twist for me. So, maybe when I get back from vacation; I will slow back even more on the hero life, and start hanging out with more of the mortal women. Then maybe I could sit down and cry a while. I bet after that, the doubters will absolutely love my pitiful, but well chiseled ass.

.........I suppose I could do some of that pitiful stuff, but still keep my options open for the soul mate training thing. Plus, I don't think the therapist gig should be taken lightly either. Although, I don't know what the pay grade is for a therapist. I suspect though, just a few crazy people here and there, then I'm sporting brand hammer new boo...leather on my feet. I would suspect writer man knows, all about how much money they make.

..................Well hell, here we go again. I think he loves busting my balloons.

I don't know why, he is saying I would need to go to college and medical school though. I can already say, you look like a pretty sick fuck to me. Just come back next week and I'll tell you why... ........I mean how hard could that shit be?

Hell, if I learn enough about shrink work, I bet I could relate even better to a whining fuck. I guess then, I could just create a level for sad whining soul mates.

Although, I don't know at this point, what level such a mate would rate.

.......... I suspect the bronze level would be on the bottom........But you have to know, some women would think he's so adorable. ........I think though, a bronze level soul mate would sleep late, then just hang out on the couch. I suppose he would be a hard worker; it's just that no employers understand, or will reward him sufficiently for his superior expertise.

However, he might be nice enough to give his women the coveted call at work. But the call would likely be to let her know he is out of beer and smokes. Although, she might think that a good thing. At least he thought about her.

Yeah hell, there you go. After the call, she would no doubt be feeling a little celebrated. She would likely hang up the phone and smile, all the while thinking about how adorable he is.

I guess with that in mind...I might have to think on the levels and pricing a little more. Mercy, in all reality she might think he's gold all the way. I suspect though, while he's resting on the couch, after a hard fought video battle, if he learned to fart the chorus of her favorite love song, he would be platinum in a heartbeat!

Well, all that's beside the point at the moment. I'm just basically thinking out loud. Like I said.....I will have to think more on the talents for each level, but I feel confident we could work in sad boy.

..................I suppose I would have to jazz up the names some though. I doubt if sad, whiney and pitiful would be marketable...then again....we have the adorable factor.

Therefore, I myself, would need to get a better feel for the ladies with the sad fuck attraction. ..........................I suspect she would've saved a few puppies when she was younger. Plus, I would have to know how she likes her man to make love to her. So yeah, I could brush up a little on that too.

I reckon that would be easy enough....Then again, she might just want him laying back looking sad, while she handles all the lovemaking. I don't know how much of that I could handle...but... Then again....

.......... Also, I don't know where the needy woman soul mate would be in the mix either. I reckon just find her a mate that would want all her shit dumped in his lap, and like it when she calls him every five minutes. I suppose though, the aforementioned couch laying fellow, would at least have the free time to take her calls.... Although, that might slow progress on her song....

..........Then again, I don't know if needy and sad would be a good combination....

....... Hell, they ain't nothing easy.

....... One thing I do know though, every female personality type, has its very own unique style. That is true in the way she keeps her house, the car she drives. It also, dictates her dress and hair style, so obviously it effects the way in which she gives and takes her pleasure.

Yeah, there's a possibility I could find a new twist in the sad attraction style...well pretty much new, I've been around a long time folks. But as you well know. I ain't supposed to come across as knowing jack shit.

......I don't think the dark haired beauty I keep thinking on, would care all that much for a sad fellow. Well hell, I know for a fact, she needs a man at the top of his game. I mean she already has a man over there, but he don't have the slightest idea on how to........Well, he don't have the first clue, on how to handle all that.....adequately celebrate all that woman.

While I, on the other hand.......

...........I tell you what. I bet even a guy like Stanley could be trained to be a, sad fuck soul mate. Just wipe away his shit eating grin, then maybe teach him to recite a little dark poetry... I guess just a little of that, would at least get his foot in the door. However, she would probably lose interest quickly, if he got a little, then started acting all happy and shit.

.... I guess though, he could be trained to look all gloomy after sex. He might also be taught to work in a few intense lines. Maybe something about their lovemaking briefly lighting the shadowy darkness of his inner so....

Yes sir re....

....... I might even test the downtrodden, sensitive man in old England. Maybe I could save a damsel or two, then at least get misty in the eyes. I reckon, if things don't go over well, I would just have to make damn sure, writer man didn't go telling the world about it though.

........Although, as anyone knows, it's always good to be versatile.

Nah, hell, I forget. The women of that era don't have access to talk shows and love tests. Therefore, they would be clueless on the sensitive, enlightened man.

Mercy sakes, I would be willing to bet; even a few tears could send a damsels kitty racing up a tree. She might, even run back into the dungeon herself, rather than deal with the thought of being grateful to a sniveling...

.........If I ever get a decent side kick, he could probably cry a little, just to test the water.

....... I tell you what though.....As you know, my writer is, making me be careful about how I say things, but frankly folks. The cold hard, unvarnished truth is, a self-respecting southern boy just ain't gonna get no pussy, acting like all that!

Well, at least, not in the era of King Henry the second.

................................... Ah hell. What am I saying? He aint gonna get none in any era. Hell, acting like all that, he may as well change his name to Stanley.

.................Maybe buy a sausage franchise or some shit.

................. So yeah, I reckon we will just scratch, the crying idea altogether.

Come on now. Help me out here, folks. I guess maybe I am a little troubled.

But yeah, we best forget all that crying stuff for the old country, and just find something else to do.

Well, there was the one reader that wanted to hear about a little animal action. ....................Hell, I guess I could stop by a farm and try to shed just a few tears. I guess after that, half the world would rejoice.

Hmm.... I'm just getting started on my trip, but there is livestock everywhere. So maybe, the least I could do is give the one reader a little thrill. Maybe I could at least tell her, how happy a Billy goat looks when he mounts his little nanny.

...Well, I reckon he would look happy. Well, the nanny too. But who really knows what to hell either of them are thinking on, when he is up there giving her all he's got.

........ I suppose one of the great writers knows, and could properly articulate the in-depth thoughts of a goat. Yeah, they could tell you. Then of course, you would likely nod in agreement to every word.

Frankly though, I don't have a fucking clue.

...................Writer man just ask ............If I was ready to concede, that writers are/were smarter than heroes.....

I should certainly think not! ..........I will however, admit they are better at selling their bullshit though. .......Then again, they might have doubters too...they just don't know it.....

.........I'm pretty confident goats don't do the cuddling thing. Although, I suspect much like the deer, they might look a little wide eyed, if you spot them fucking in the headlights. I guess that would be true for some of you folks too, especially the doubters.... Then again, they might just chalk up the bright light to one hell of an orgasm. I think though, if they're dealing with that much intensity....I hope the oncoming headlights has brakes...

Okay writer...I will move along...

.................Actually though, I think once she has her annual orgasm, little nanny just goes off and snacks on some grass.

.................It don't bring me to the point of tears or anything, but I tell you what, annual and orgasm in the same sentence, just seems a little sad, don't you think? I guess though, if your hound ain't up for the hunt, all that sounds about right.

............. I tell ya what, all you ladies that can just pop one right after the other, well; you should at least pause for a moment of silence, for the little nanny.

Well, while you're at it, you could show a little heart for the kitty that won't arch.

Then shit, we have the.....dog that won't hunt...mercy me, just forget it, I am sure little nanny will be fine. Hell, I was just trying to do a good deed, but everything gets all complicated.

..................I tell you folks. I think I've made the decision to get a side kick. Although, I will have to carefully consider several things, before I bring him on....... I reckon for starters, he can't be too handsome, or he will be crowding me with the lady folk. I don't mean to say, I'm not confident in myself and all that. It's just that two handsome fellows hanging out, might confuse the lady folks....... Plus, these days' folks might think we're.....

......Then again, if I hang out with ugly all day, it might cause me to be even more down and out. So, I guess he could look all right, maybe he could just be a little on the stupid side.

......................Ah hell, everyone very well knows, dealing with stupid all day, ain't no cake walk either......I guess though, he could have sense enough to come in out of the rain........ Maybe too, he could just have a standard issue ass. I guess as a side kick, he also wouldn't need those impeccable buttocks, and thrust worthy thighs the women folk......

...Well shit, like everything else, I reckon all that will need a little more pondering too.

...............Damn, writer man is offering me some goodies from his med drawer. I don't think I'm that bad though. I think he just wants me looking all skittish like him.

Come on now, I know you can see the grin some of the time. Let me just get through this little, doubter thing, and we can roll.

I just know I'll feel better once I save a few damsels. All that will probably be ten times better than a drawer full of meds.

Speaking of meds and side effects, I already mentioned what may happen to writer man. However, I don't know what they might do for the lady folks, especially some of my mad doubters.

Please now, I know all of you doubters are rock solid so don't even think, I would be the kind of man to throw anything in your direction. However,........ if you by chance have a friend that takes a few meds, and has problems with her left breast jumping over her right shoulder, and try's too squirt buttermilk up her ass...well...

......You might also watch for a little eye twitching along with the tit jumping. Well.......I guess the buttermilk is a little farfetched, so I reckon it could just be regular milk. I just threw in the buttermilk for color.

..............No worry though, if I get a little ticked along the way. It passes quickly and I would probably make you laugh. Then, like I said before, you would invite me to pet your furry little kitty.

Well, I know some folks like the hairless kind. I like to pet them as well. Feeling the smooth warm skin against my fingertips just feels kind of nice. Oh yeah, just a light teasing brush.

........Oh well, as you may have noticed. My mind can sometimes wander a little...................... Writer fellow, says he doubts anyone has picked up on that.

Okay doubters, listen up. In all reality, there are not so many of us heroes/heroines, in respect to the number of you mortal folk running about. Most often, as I said before, our appearance and dress is just altered to fit the various roles. I suppose that is why I am not so easy to recognize. Then again, if you look closely...

I think, even though we are not great in number, we still may cross paths more than you might guess. So just look around the next time you're on a busy sidewalk, or maybe on your daily commute. If you do, then you will often see someone that stands out from the rest.

Just be careful though, so you don't trip over your feet or run a red light.

Ha! Don't laugh! I see it happen all the time. You, like everyone else, can always save face, though. By just remembering to look back, in order to see what jumped out of the concrete walk and grabbed your feet.

I mean, a quick look back, immediately, tells everyone around you can walk just fine, but the damn sidewalk better get its shit together. A little scowl along with the look back, is always good as well.

I don't even know why I said all that. How you handle all that, is totally up to you. I notice a lot of you mortals seem pretty angry sometimes. So as far as I'm concerned, you can turn around and shout obscenities at the walk all you want.

.......I suppose some of the anger could be caused by a neglected kitty. I don't know that for sure though. After all I am just a doubted hero.

Although, I suppose some knowledgeable writer, could give you the real skinny on it all. I reckon too, you might not have been held enough as a child. That's just a suggestion, I don't have my shrink permit yet, so I best not say much about all that.

Well, what am I saying? I've seen the results of a neglected kitty. You can easily get scratched up or even gnawed up, while trying to settle one down.

.....................Then, there are the shoulder nips that catch you by surprise, when the orgasms start to hit them hard. I mean you learn to deflect the sharper ones....but...

..... I don't mean to imply any of the above damage is all done in anger. I just.....

Whoa now, I wondered where the thought of getting gnawed or bitten.....

Hello, Alabama! You must be a speed reader, if you are already reading about old England and the women with no teeth. After all, my take on that, was mentioned well into the draft.

I don't really know for sure, why the folks in that era had no teeth. But no toothpaste would be my first guess.

No, to be completely honest, I never got a blow job from a toothless woman. But as you can see in the story, I did think on it a little.

I mean, I was just curious what it would...Plus the safety factor was appealing.

I was also working on a little dry spell. Hell, I was wearing green tights too. So you have to know women aren't going to be jumping on my horse...

Oh, your teeth can stay in or be taken out.

Well, good for you. I always say, it's good to be versatile.

I agree, if you have been married for thirty years. Then I think you can probably assume that is an advantage.

No, no, it was just a little curiosity of mine. I don't need to fulfill every curious thought. If I did, I'd never...

I am all good here, but thank you all the sam...

Oh really? You're tonsils have been removed as well? Hum...

Hum...I wonder...

.................No, no really, I'm good.

Well yeah, all the damsels in this story have teeth.

I am sorry your husband is out of town and all. But I better get back to work.

Oh yeah, mercy! You're teeth do pop right out don't they?

Really! I would like to stay but my writer is a very impatient man... so I have to run!

Sorry folks, I thought that was another doubter.

Like I was saying earlier about passing one of us...

Her teeth just came right out! I think she liked the story though.

Oh yeah, I was talking about encountering one of us. So it may not always be our appearance that is...well... familiar, but you will feel an overall attract...well...familiarity nonetheless. I mean, it may not be a feeling strong enough to bud a flower or...

..............I tell you what. One minute she had a mouth full, the next...not a single one. She looked as normal as sunshine, then...

Hmm, I have to wonder, if any of my past heroines had that little, added feature and just never mentioned it.

Can you see why I keep getting off track?

..................Anyway, just remember, all of us ain't stinking rich. Therefore, don't rule out someone being a hero/heroine, just because they are milling around in the produce section.

Just so you know. If you're grocery shopping for example, and see someone you think might be a heroine, and she is admiring the cucumber supply. Let me assure you, she's just craving a little salad, that's all. Because us hero's, always get the job done. We keep our wood stacked all nice and neat.

....Oh, just so you also know. I stacked my wood just fine. Mad woman...well Miss Serena, she can be just a royal pain in the ass. I mean to tell you, that woman would bitch if she was hung with a gold rope.

My writer is looking a little worried we will offend, so I will say, all the Mortal men keep the wood stacked as well, but I'm talking, heroes and heroines at the moment. Plus, he won't let me advertise my copper...gold coins...

Well hell, I say she's is buying the cucumber for salad. But she might be getting the cucumber, because some damned writer has her stranded in conflict, while they fiddle jack around with their word count.

Then again, she might be thinking on taking it home, so she can get a little excited, and practice biting her lip in the off hours. I mentioned it already, but in modern day, if a heroin loses that talent, she's in real trouble. I don't care how well, her kitty arches it's back or can climb around on the wood; she's as good as done, folks.

Hell that would be like a hero trying to snag a gig, if he loses his thrust.

I know the lips biting thing certainly rocks a reader's boat no doubt. However, at least in my book, some things still trump lip biting. The teeth or no teeth, reader, well, she did say she had been married for years. I think that speaks well for some of the more enduring things.

However, I don't think consulting a dentist is necessary. Just, go light on the teeth, so you don't mark up the tender wood.

Well, making sure teeth are not rough and therefore cock friendly is the key.

.............Hell, I suppose, if the cucumber gets our heroin to the point of lip biting, she might just let it have its way. I guess if an attachment occurs, and it makes her get the headlight look going on, she could always keep it in the fridge.

Writer man says to watch out for hot spots, if she warms it back up in the microwave.

...I'm not at all sure how he knows about all that, but...

So yeah folks, we are right here among you. Just like everyday folks.

You know what the real kicker is; you might just be one of us, even, while you doubt my word. I bet sometimes you feel like your life's a story, anyway. Some days, you might even suspect your own writer is packing a full sack of meds.

In fact, I thought for a long time I was just your average... Well, above average guy.

Whoa. What's this?

Well, well, Hello, Savannah Georgia! I was wondering when you were going to get through. I hope you have enjoyed the draft... I think I even see a little acceptance in your eyes.

Yes, I do see it.

Well, to each their own, but I like to say the story is good natured humor, rather than sarcasm.

Whoa....Please...say something nice. I am holding on to the edge here.

I am glad you were teasing, but I do get a little fed up with the writer folk. Well, to be honest I am having a little woman trouble as well.

Well, I am glad you admit I am a little more than a fantasy.

Yes, I remember, a hot shower is perfect to end a long day.

Well thank you. I do value your opinion.

But yeah, I did say we walk among you, and you might never even know it.

Whoa, belief is good but... Oh hell! Please... please...lady...

Oh okay, but writer man may wig if I use your real name...

Okay...So Pamela, will you please stop looking at the couch. Your man is trying to nap. Besides...uh...

Is his name really...? Oh? Damn his momma must've been in a pissy mood that day....I better just make one up...

Well anyway, Homer wouldn't make the cut if you chiseled off...well, a bunch of pounds and...

Nope, even with a side profile, it's still hard to...

Yeah, well, I don't know about him being, sooo cute, when he sleeps and all, but...

Men, just don't go around making comments like that about another...

Okay, okay...Well, I guess he looks... all right.

At least he's still breathing.

Mercy me! I guess that is another thing I didn't see coming. Although, I did also mention in the draft, about how we walk among you. I suppose when this is read, a lot of folks will be looking toward the couch. I guess everyone will start checking and re checking, just to confirm they are hooked up with the right stuff.

So, do it! Everyone that's reading at the moment, just go ahead and look. We need to get this behind us.

I think if you just see a picture in the room, you can just admire it for the short term.

Thank you.

................................. Well, I guess many of you will face the cold hard facts immediately. While others, well, they may hold out hope they have a true hero/heroine, but they just haven't revealed themselves yet. Hell, some probably figure they could already have a Knight. .......I tell you something else folks. That shit about kissing a frog and getting a prince....well, that's just more proof of the writer folk, blowing smoke up your ass.

Bernard is getting tense, all because I got caught up in my meandering, and put my boots up on the desk. He also says I need to get on to something other than bullshit.

Well, he used a better term, but it all shakes out the same.

I can't help it, if the readers don't care about his re-write. Plus, if you folks want to kiss frogs, just knock yourself out....Yes sir re.

....................I think he's still a little worried about those microwave hotspots. Maybe he works in a sudden cucumber, as well.

....................Yes sir, his little honey must be a tough one.

He also bitched because I used a reader's name earlier. I know her well, so it's all good.

Chapter Eleven

Suppressed Anger?

Well, speaking of a reader with a name, here is Pam willing me back her way already. She must've sensed, I's still thinking about her. Man, she is a fine looking woman.

I tell you what though. I'm feeling better already.

Like I said, I've known her a while now. Although today is my first time to see handsome Homer... I mean shit, it's no wonder she calls on me for a little inspiration...

Hello again, I am glad to see Homer is still resting

By the way, what is that strange little noise he makes every now and again?

Oh, I see. The Donavan snort...huh?...My goodness...well, yes, I reckon it is....uh.... precious. I usually don't use words like that though...

...... _.Hum......I guess the little thumb twitching thing, accompanying the snort, must have come from his mamas' side?_

Uncle Earl huh?!

Yeah, well, I guess those family trees just keep on dropping some interesting leaves.

I need to get back but let me just say, you look very nice tonight.

Well, if that be the case, I must also say, you certainly threw everything on very well, very well indeed.

You are very welcome.

............ _..Oh, yeah I got a minute. So you plan on a little..... late night reading._

Well, I have a lot going on right now. I ran into an unforeseen doubter problems but...

Really?

I agree, a silk nightie will no doubt feel pleasant against your skin.

Well, I like the sound of that. Did you say it was pink?

Well.

Yeah, I remember you wore it that one time before.

Okay.

Yeah..., mercy, all the long dark hair sure looks nice when you wear that color. So does those long...

Well, I reckon I will agree. It does look like Homer is pretty much down for the count.

........................Ah ha...folks.....That was such a sweet invitation, and no, not a single tear was needed.

Yes sir re. No meds for me. That long mass of dark hair.....Those long....yeah... those long well shaped legs...I think I'm pretty much healed, just from thinking on it all!

Anyway, if you recall, a ways back I mentioned, Mary Beth, my original writer. I guess looking back over the years, things could've been pretty tough for her. I say tough, because she only had a paper and pen to write her words. The word processor, with its auto correct was a good ways down the road. Plus, all the men wore ugly boots back then. Oh yeah, she didn't have a word counter, in case I say boots or kitty too much.

So I suppose, a while back when I lumped her in with the lazy writers, well, that might have just been plain wrong. After all, she certainly knew how to create strong characters, which happens to be the key to my longevity. Well, just between you, me and a broom handle, I personally think she created Serena a little feistier than need be....but...

............I just made writer man smirk, when I told him he was a candy ass, with his little word counter, spell checker and auto correct. Even with all that, he still complains about my terminology, and says if he writes verbatim...it causes his sentences to get underlined. I think too, he usually misspells pertty most of the time... I mean Pam is pretty, because she's all dainty like. Other things...well it's just pertty.

I mean he's yacking about something all the time....

...................I mentioned already how long and shapely Pam's legs were, didn't I...

Whoa! Writer man quickly assured me that I had......He can act so...so.....He knows full well, my mind wonders. Plus, I figured he was busy, thinking on I before E or some shit like that.

Oh well, I guess all and all, I was thinking of Mary Beth being lazy, in reference to the writers, who have every modern convince. Yet, they're still very good, at sending me up the creek..... Then, just up and quit writing before they give me a paddle.

But of course, it's not their fault; it's all because they lose their muse. We all know writers are sensitive and beautiful people. I mean if you doubt my word, just ask them.

Well, all I can say, their damn lazy assed muse, should have brought me a frigging paddle before taking a vacation.

Whoa....What?

Writer man says, he thinks, I'm dealing with repressed anger. He has told me that a dozen times already. But what the hell does he know? Hell, my anger toward writers isn't repressed. I think I have made it pertty damn clear...See folks, there's nothing pretty or dainty about that last sentence.

...Plus, I'm just telling folks what they should've been told in the first frigging chapter.

.............Re-write my ass. This thing is so screwed up.

Ah hell, old habits die hard. Shit folks! Here I am, about to get my dander up and for no reason. As you very well know, I'm certainly fed up with writers, to say the least, but in all reality, I don't worry much about their shortcomings anymore. You obviously have figured it out already, but their muse can nap all day, as far as I am concerned, because, over time, I've become stronger than any writer.

Ha Ha...I guess when it's all said and done. That is worth at least a little bolt of lightning! Don't you think?

I mean it's still not as exciting as zombies and shit, but it makes me pretty damn happy.

Well, most days, I'm happy if a bunch of doubter's ain't up my..... Although, this little gift of mine, has certainly made a lot of women very happy.

See? There is nothing repressed here.

I tell you what. I bitch and moan a little, but it feels so good to be free! Writers, I mean to tell you...dealing with their mood swings and the like. Hell, I told you already, about the bears and flood of the century. Shit, I bet you folks would be pissed too, if were just trying to get a little, and a grizzly showed up....

So hell, as you can see I am dealing with well-placed anger.

Plus, he doesn't know the half of it! Yeah, I have worked a few of those haunted house gigs. Hell, you try keeping a decent rhythm to your hump, when other thing are going bump in the night. Oh yeah, keep in mind I'm a romance hero now, and yeah, heroines do like to fuck in a haunted house. I reckon, the furniture moving around all by its self, must get them excited.

Bats, well, they too can be a little distracting.....

.............However, I will admit the power to see and know what a reader is thinking gets a little.... Although, it can be very interesting at times, plus a little entertaining on occasion.

Well, I'm trying to be honest here. Therefore I should've said, a lot entertaining. Yes ma'am re, some of you ladies can amaze even a seasoned hero... yes sir re, and a well-seasoned one at that!

..................I've been trying to give you a few examples along the way. Although, the visits I've taken you on, wasn't at all a normal day for me. Shit, you can blame all that crap on writer man. If he hadn't insisted on a re-write, I would already have you riding along with a real live knight.

Well, he is sniffling and snorting. .............No, no! Not the aforementioned knight. He would never snort. Writer man is the culprit as usual. He is saying he wanted folks to get to know me a little, before dumping my life story and a lot of bull shit in their lap.

Mercy, I think dumping sounds a might harsh. I just told you some stuff!

However, I will sadly have to admit, there was no lightning involved, even when I realized I had my little gift. I just started relating to several female readers and that was it.

To be honest, they are actually the ones that invite me in.

So as you can see, there is really no magic on my part. Well, some think I'm a little bit magic, I reckon.

Bear with me folks. I am trying, to get something exciting going, so I can be like the great writers. But hell, everything is just so damn plain and simple!

I guess a good sidekick might offer a little excitement....

So anyway, now you can see how innocent I am. You thought I was going around, spying on all the sweet little readers. Just to pet their kitties and water their flowers.

No, nothing like that at all, I mean, well...maybe a little...

Okay, writer boy from the fifties. I will take that back. I know none of your sweet readers ever fantasize about anything, other than magic man over on the couch.

..........I actually don't think mad woman's knight would have sold my coins... so if anyone, is at all interested.....

Anyway, I have it all fairly well figured out now, but when I was a rookie. I would show up every time someone took a fancy to my talents, or was caught up in a story. I tell you what though, I did encounter some...uh....stuff.

...............I can tell you one thing for sure. In the very beginning I was one clean hero, since a lot of them needing my help, was in the bathtub or shower. Well, in the early days it was just a wash tub with clean water and soap. Yes sir re...

I'm talking a wooden tub no less......and rough textured soap too.....................Oh yeah, I remember those days....All that was so very long ago...but...

.....................Okay writer man, just for a moment. I'm going to be serious here. So you can stop listening for any insensitive land mines in my words.

......Well, Mr. Writer man, I'm going to be serious even if it don't fit the damn outline, then so be it. Head exploders, well, they can just skip this part, I reckon.

...............Anyway, I recall it was sometime in the late 1880s, and I met a very special lady named Casandra. Well, her favored name was Kassie, and she actually lived pretty much alone out in the Dakotas. When she and I first met, her husband was off fighting a war someplace. I know you folks always fight someone, so I suppose it was a war against the Indians, but anyway, all that was a good while ago. Later on though, she received word of his death, and even though she was crushed from the news, she was bound and determined to finish the dream, in which the two of them had started.

........ I guess thinking back on it all, and the many roles I have played since then, you could say she was living a real life novel, that would've read very similar to some of today's fictional ones. Well, it was vampire and zombie free. Although, I suppose there were a few mosquitos out looking for blood.

However, for her there was no delete button or rewrite, in which to change her fate. Also, there was no brave hero or shining Knight to ride in and save the day. Well, I eventually showed up, but I was pretty much a rookie, so I didn't ride in with guns blazing, or any of the predictable hero flair.

..............However, I was immediately captivated by her courage, because for a woman alone, just running the horse and cattle ranch was certainly no easy task. Plus, there were men about, who would've loved nothing more, than to stumble across an attractive and vulnerable woman. Therefore, I have no doubt, some level of fear was ever present in her thoughts. All and all, I think she dealt with the fear and never ending work, with just pure determination and guts.

...... But with all things considered, I think the seclusion was the hardest for her to bear....

................... Looking back over the years of my long life, I still have to say, she seemed like the loneliest person I've ever encountered.

When I first met Kassie, Serena was the only person I had ever related to physically. If I haven't told you already, Miss Serena was written in as my original partner or heroine, in Mary Beth's story. Therefore, I wasn't quite strong enough, or maybe I just didn't know how, to physically touch a mortal woman.

............Yeah, I actually said that out loud....but just keep in mind, that was soooo very long ago.

...... Then again, I suppose with the recent loss of her husband, Kassie might have been the one, who wasn't strong enough for a touch. But when the loneliness overwhelmed her and she again dared to let her mind wonder, all I could do was watch her from afar, then at the time of her making. I would try and enter her dreams, and help to make them seem as real as I possibly could.

However, as time passed I guess her thoughts or needs became so strong, I was finally able to get close and let her feel my touch.....

......... I guess though, I will never really know how it all came about, or for that matter, how she even willed me there in the first place. I suppose she just desperately needed someone close to her. Someone to hear her words on the endless summer days. Then, to feel securing arms snuggling her close, on those long and cold winter nights.

However, Serena and I were going through our first big break up, and I reckon I's a little lost myself. So, with that in mind, it might have been want and need from the both of us. So, neither Kassie nor myself, was at all surprised, when everything had slowly became real.

Sorry folks, there was not even a hint of lightning there either.

Hell, for all I know, maybe it was simply the desperate need of a mortal woman that actually made me flesh and blood. I guess that sounds like perfectly good logic to me though.

Anyway, I spent a lot of time with her, and all the while I was with her. I thought the time spent, was all for her benefit. But along the way she returned to me, much more than I ever gave to her.

........Also, while I'm having a few mellow and reflective moments here. I suppose along with so many other things, she taught me, as the saying goes, perfect beauty is only skin deep. I don't mean to imply she was outwardly un-attractive. It's just that when I first met her, the long days of hard work in the wind and sun, had left its mark on her.

I guess, along with the hard physical work, the emotional trials of life had made some inward marks as well. I guess the point is, early on I was strongly attracted to just her strength or I should say, just her plain old tenacity.

However as time passed, she slowly found her happy smile. And as if it were just yesterday, I can still see that smile and long sandy hair blowing in the summer wind. Also, along with the smile, to erase the lines of tension on her face, time softened her hands, so to return a gentle caress.

I think too, just taking the time to listen to her thoughts and spoken words, I came to understand the true pleasure of simple love. For her, the idea of love and lovemaking was basic, with nothing kinky or anything off the wall thrown in. Just two people savoring the natural pleasure, while taking and giving strength to the other.

As you might guess, despite the long days of hard work. My time with her was pleasant. But.... as you might also guess. There were many reasons beyond my control, which would not allow me to stay with her indefinitely. I think she knew or sensed that as well. So, after a while other folks started to settle nearby. Then one sunny spring day, after some mixed emotion but encouragement from me, she soon warmed enough to pack a picnic basket, and take a carriage ride with a persistent gentleman caller.

..........................However........long before and long after she climbed up to sit on the seat beside him. Had there been the slightest hint, he might ever abuse her with his hands or belittle her with his words. You can rest assured, the local folks would have soon been scratching their heads, while wondering how such a tragic accident, could have befallen a man, as he rode his horse or drove his carriage, along a straight stretch of road.

...................Well, I expected writer man to fall out of his chair, with the implications in the last paragraph.

Hum...... He let that slide.... but says I'm having mood swings like the writers, I so openly despise. I guess he may be right, but as often as the little writers have jerked me around...I'll swing all I want.

Hell,..............I'm not even sure, why I felt like telling that story, since, as he says, it don't fit the genre of my intended humor in this little story. Plus, affairs of the heart, was so different back then.

..................Although, I guess since I have come this far, I may as well tell the rest. So with just a few more solemn words of human reality, I promise to move along.

Anyway, over the years I would often stop in and pay Kassie a visit. The visits, however were always from afar, so I never spoke with her. I guess I just wanted to make sure she was getting on okay. Although, as the years passed, I always felt a hint of sadness, as I watched the hands of time change her and the small house as well. So after much time had passed, from a distance, neither held little resemblance of the early years.

................The last time I was there, was many years ago, but the strong willed girl I had known at twenty two, looked to be approaching the completion of her mortal years. With that in mind. I decided I wanted or needed to speak with her, just the one last time. What harm could it cause? I had always stayed away, because I worried about influencing the natural order of her life. However, by now, I figured any memory she might've had of me, had long since been forgotten anyway.

With that in mind, when I had confirmed she was alone, I walked close to where she sat on the front porch. I realized then, the distance had been a little deceiving. Time had no doubt taken its natural toll of course, but the smile and sparkling eyes were still the same. "Hello, Jared McCormick, I wondered if you were ever going to get close enough, so to express a proper good bye."

When she spoke, just as it had been long ago, her words nor expression held surprise because I was there. When she looked me over, the fact I still looked the same, drew no reaction either. She just said, "I see you finally managed a pair of those fancy boots, you were always talking about."

With a relieved grin, I said, "Yeah I did, and I don't go very far without them either." Then with a more serious tone, I said, "I also never said good bye, because I was around from time to time."

With a nod and pat to the chair beside her, she smiled, "Come on up and sit for a spell." Then her eyes looked into the distance, when she added, "Jared, I knew when you were about looking out for me. It always gave me such sweet comfort that you were there. I also understood why you couldn't or wouldn't come closer.

I was surprised, but managed to say, "I thought you would have forgotten me long ago."

Reaching out to take my hand. I watched and wondered what distant memories might be within her thoughtful look, as she meticulously traced her fingers over the lines of my hand. Then more to herself than to me, she softly and thoughtfully said, "I remember so well, the touch of these beautiful hands."

After a moment she clasped my hand firmly between hers, and with a curious but sincere look, she said, "Jared, I have thought on it many times, and I honestly don't know now, and I didn't know then if you were truly real, or if you were just the creation of a lonely woman's heart and mind."

Just a little side note here....that conversation took place well over fifty years ago. So, I took her unsure words of me with a grain of salt, because back then I didn't understand about all of you doubters. Therefore, I felt no need to burn her house or shoot her cat!

......I knew she had more to say so I just held silent, when she paused to collect her thoughts. Then, still holding tight to my hand, she, as women will often do, when they want your full attention, turned slightly and looked straight into my eyes, "Jared, regardless of my expressed wonder, you were my first true love. So how could I ever forget you?"

Still reading my eyes for a reaction, she paused for a moment, then continued, "I know when we first met or shortly after. I was deeply hurt over the death of my first husband."

She again looked into the distance as she continued, "However looking back, I think he and I were just partners of sorts. Don't get me wrong, in my own way I loved him dearly, and I also believe he felt the same in return. But we were just so young at the time, while out here in the middle of nowhere, just trying to fulfill a dream we had shared since childhood."

Then squeezing and lifting my hand for emphasis, she added, "You saved me Jared, in more ways than you can ever know. I guess no one could ever, or maybe even imagine, just how lonely and scared I was in the early days. So not only did you offer me safety, you helped me to understand, that love is/was so much more than the need for a helper in life. You taught me how to love completely, with mind, body and heart."

She paused for a moment, and again looked away in thought. Then turning back my way with her serious look, and added, "Jared, I've missed you a little, every single day of my life. But even back then, when I was thinking I might be going loco, I knew I had to let you go, because not everyone that comes into our life is meant to stay forever. I have learned over the years that some just come when they are desperately needed, and stay long enough to be what we need at the time." Then with a grin she quickly added, "Well, I don't know how many men stop by, to pick a lonely woman her next husband." Then turning and demanding my eyes again, she said, "Oh, by the way, you found me a dandy no doubt."

I had to admit I beamed a little as she talked, because I must say, my experiences of running into a past lover usually don't go nearly so well. Hunt it down and kill it is usually the theme ...

.....Anyway, after we chatted a while, to further prove I was not forgotten. She took me inside and we both smiled, when she showed me how she had designed the huge house, so it was built entirely around the two original rooms. A few modern decoration and family pictures graced the walls and tables, but otherwise, the rooms were still just as they were back then.

When she walked across room, I saw a slight blush along with the grin, when she turned back to me, then pointed out the old wooden tub that sat beside the stone fireplace. The tub now held, what I guessed to be a few keepsake items, along with a wash board. I surmised from the look of it, it was as original as the tub.

The age on her face seemed to fade even more, when with sparkling eyes and a mischievous smile, she said, "I guess in the beginning, I was the cleanest girl in South Dakota, since for some reason, my fondest thoughts of you came, while I relaxed in the tub. However I suppose, as near as I was to insanity at the time, clean was likely my only positive attribute."

Returning her smile, I said, "I reckon we all have a favorite place to think on things. Kassie, you can also trust me when I say, you had more positive attributes than you let yourself believe."

Her blush held on when she nodded, and said, "Well thank you Jared." Then the smile returned when she added, " I could've just torn down the old rooms, and designed the house with the tub as the center piece, after all that is truly where we first met."

"Yes it is," I said, and felt a touch of sadness as my thoughts raced back, but I tried hard to match her smile.

With another look of mixed emotions, she glance back toward the tub. "Over the years, and of all the people that have passed through these rooms, the significance of the tub is known only to me.

I stayed and talked with her for a while longer, but I never made mention of her comment, regarding me being a dream or reality. I just figured however she chose to remember it, the memories she held dear was all her own.

Okay, okay! I'm back. I just wondered off for a moment. Although, I guess that little story might've had a little significance in the sense of telling how I came to be. I guess it also shows, that I've had my decent moments, even though writer man and mad woman like to say bad shit about me. Well, the hunt me down and kill me women, probably say some stuff too.

..........Yeah, well, they can think what they want, I reckon.

..... I guess I can whine like the modern mortals, and blame everything on Mary Beth. After all, things might have been different, if she had written me with a sweet halo instead of a rambling spirit. I also think some nice gentlemen shoes, instead of these damned Cowboy boots would have helped too...... I don't know though......I just can't imagine...

................ I guess though, like my other little love story a ways back, times have changed so much. I think now a days, relationships and even friendships, have become so flighty, most folks can't even relate to any of that. Well, some might understand how she helped me become stronger. Although, her high level of loneliness might be hard to believe. .....But I think though, even with other folks nearby, and entertainment everywhere. I still think a little touch of the deep loneliness felt by Kassie, might still exist today.

...............Oh well, writer man says I need to move it along. He says my humor more closely resembles love and life of today anyway............... I haven't seen Mauler yet...but..

........... He also figures, my worries of why folks are lonely and all that heavy duty stuff, should be discussed when I get my therapist office..... But at the moment I'm still just a humble, doubted hero, without a decent side kick even......

..... He thinks he knows every....

Yeah well, sometimes life teaches you a lot of......I tell you what though. When I do get a side kick. He won't be a fucking know it all!

............ I believe though, even if I was a shrink, I could still have a side kick. At least till I get a little experience under my belt. In all reality, a good side kick might come in real handy. I suspect encountering crazy people on the street is one thing.

..............However, when you invite them in to sit a spell...well....I would think that to be a whole different smoke.... Yes sir re............Hell, I made a lot of mistakes as a rookie hero. So I would guess, there is a better than good possibility, I could screw up and steer some of those folks the wrong direction.

..... I've never cared for heights all that much, so I reckon a side kick could be handy... So yeah, he could go get their ass down off ledges, bridges and shit like that.....

Anyway, before the memory of a woman bathing in a wooden tub, triggered a lot of great memories. I was talking about being a clean hero, because as we previously discussed, a lot of the women folk seem to like thinking on stuff while relaxing in a bath.

Well, as you well know, the shower is pretty much the norm for modern day. I enjoyed the showers and all....but.....Well, I don't mean to sound shallow here, but I had to pretty much stop all that.....

......... Well, shallow or not, anyone needs a little advance warning, on what they may see behind a shower curtain.

Surprises, from behind a curtain might be idea for a game show but, no, not for a traveling hero.

I mean the biggest doubter of all, has to know what I'm talking about here.

................Plus, most women use water so damned hot it would boil an egg! I don't know what's up with all that, but I would often fear, it would cause damage to a perfectly good piece of hard wood.

I reckon though, any traveling man has to always put safety first, because scalding, along with a little careless gnawing, and even a stable woody can go down for the count.

.... No sir re. Little Jared don't want none of that scalded look. Well, obviously none of that bluish look either. I reckon, a few blisters would dampen things back a little too.

...............Plus, times have changed in the shower too, so I don't think I'm needed in there anyway. Well, on occasion some just like to be watched. That's pretty safe and easy stuff though. Some may on occasion, still like a little help with the lather.... I said watching and coaching was easy stuff, although there is still some stuff you just don't need to see.

However, as I said, back in the day I was a pretty busy man but nowadays, from what I can see, the little hand held water jet thing, just seems to work wonders.

Yes sir re.

Whoa, don't blush, you're not alone, a lot of women folks feel like cuddling with those things daily.

Hell, some probably do.

Also, ever damn power tool that might be needed, is pretty well waterproofed these days. I might, and do, offer a little support, at the critical point, when weak knees become a problem. That is often the case, but after years of practice, they know how to deal with all that. I mean on occasion, a real zinger will take them to their knees.....but...

........ Hell, everyone know how that works.

Don't get me wrong, you can still see some interesting stuff though.

Yeah.....

However, as time passed, I learned more about what was happening and how to control my talent. When I was comfortable with it all, I started going with a little more orderly technique. Well, along with the order, it made my work a little safer also.

Again, I don't want anyone to think I scare easily. However, when you're suddenly behind a shower curtain, and the hair stands up on the back of your neck....

....... Well, it don't take a damn genius to figure out, panic and soap suds on the floor don't mix. Hell, and that's not even factoring in the scalding issue.

Just so you know. I seldom or never get involved with toe restructuring. That just kind of happened. Then again, you have to be prepared for anything. My heroines were usually pretty predictable, well the writers are predictable... but mortal women...I tell you what!

..................In light of all that's happened, I think I will tell you the what. I wasn't going to mention this, but after all the doubts and sneers, I think it needs to be said.

If you will recall, throughout the story I mentioned how missing a stroke can cause problems. I also mentioned how it would be nice, if the lady folk would sometimes lend their man a finger or two.

Well....to my great disappointment, when I was saying all that, a lot of folk frowned and yeah.... folded their arms and shit. I mean all that made it plain to see, some thought I was just speculating or simply making up shit.

Well, I wasn't making it up. No sir re, not a single word of it is untrue. ...........Now, you will probably make a face and say, just what makes him think, he knows so damned much.

Well, besides the showering activity he knows so much, because he gets called up a lot while other things are going on!

................Hell, everyone knows women enjoy and need more mental stimulation than men, so sometimes they just need to think on stuff. Sometimes, well, the stuff they're thinking on, just happens to not be the stuff of the man on the couch, who has momentarily come to life, and is up there trying his best to get things done.

..............Hell, most of you ladies know exactly how all that works. Easy now, don't go blushing again, because here again you are not alone.

Whoa.....easy now. I'm fully aware some of you have it going on. I know a catnip boner keeps a kitty purring.

Regardless of the catnip I still get called in a lot though. Shit, how else would I have known, about the poor fellow up there, just huffing and puffing his brains out? Well, women actually tell me stuff...but

............Well, I admit at this point it's usually not hands on for me, but even in a fantasy, I see things... Plus, even though they aren't as powerful as me, my hero friends tell me stuff too.

.................I tell you what though. You can admit it or not, but getting some of you lady folk over the happy hump.... well, it's like trying to push a damn twenty foot log chain up a hill....

........Shit, I think some of them need a toy with a weed eater motor, and a full tank of gas. Hell those little batteries don't stand a....Nah hell, I reckon batteries are the trick. Shit, you would be outa the mood, after you cranked on that frigging weed eater motor for an hour.... Plus, the neighbors might be put out by the noise....They might even talk about you....yeah, it's taking Jenny a while to get over the hill today.....

.......I hate a fucking weed eater though. ...............That damn knight better be..... There's some heavy ass grass, along the fence in my back yard. Yeah, it makes that sorry assed weed eater beg for its gas...

.......Oh yeah, Tennessee. I enjoyed the original show, so no need to be shy anymore!! Well....actually it was a pretty short little show. Although, I guess after Stanley left, was when the real show started. Honestly though, I think Stanley will improve. If not, you have a pretty good imagination to get you through...Plus, as always, I'm a willing one to lend a....

...Yeah, hell! Speaking of mortal women, I wasted a little too much time, trying to get a little more explaining done, for the sweet little doubters. So when I went to check on the pink nightie. Well, Pam's sweet Homer had come to life, and was up moving about and scratching his big ass.

No worry. It's all good.

Hell yeah, it's all fucking good! To be honest. The next time some of you doubters kick back for your play time. I hope everyone's batteries are dead as hell!

........... No, actually I hope they work, then go stone cold dead, just when you're starting to tense a little...

......................Writer man is saying I need to cool down, but you folks have to know I am a little depressed. If left alone, that cute little sweetie would have completely cured me.

I tell you what! ....If I end up on a bunch of nut jumping meds....

..................No writer man. I'm done talking about that. But no, I don't have a lot of deep seated hatred for a weed eater. It's just that it gets hot in Georgia, and out in the hot sun cranking on that little bastard pisses me......

.........................Well hell, I guess writer man is right. So I hope all the batteries hold strong and true. After all, I slowed things myself, while we went on our little side journey to South Dakota.

Anyway............ like I was saying earlier, when I came to be there was no lightning bolts, that ever come close to these firm chiseled buttocks. Just so you know. There was no wood damage in regards to scalding either. Although, I still think the ladies need to back down a little on the hot water.

..........No sir, none of the fancy lightning stuff for me, it actually took a lot of hard work to get me to this point. So trust me when I say, over the years, I've shoveled a lot of shit the damned writers have thrown my way.

Folks.........I honestly don't know how much longer, writer boy will keep this boring input thing going. However....to stir up a little excitement, I was thinking maybe I might take an arrow or something. ...........That is...If I ever get off this couch and save a damsel or three.

..........I think maybe one arrow would add a little touch of drama for you folks, and make my damsel sufficiently grateful......I mean with this little dry spell, I need serious grati.....

.....Well, not a poison arrow I don't think.............I tell you what though, just a plain old arrow could be deadly, so maybe I could just fall off my horse or something, while in the act of saving her.

Yeah, I might be able to do that without too much damage. .............Then again... if I land just right. I could crush a shoulder...

.................Shit, that hurts like a son of a bitch!

.....I know that's right, because I had that happen once, when I was involved in a covered wagon wreck. Some of you might even remember, how back in the day, writers just loved sending a runaway wagon over a cliff. Well then, you probably already know that can't be good, especially if your ass is on the damned wagon.

Actually though, the sweet heroine was the one on the wagon. I was the one who had to be stupid enough to jump on the damned thing, while it was speeding toward the cliff. I mean we're talking hero shit right there. I guess as a rookie, I wasn't always the sharpest tack in the......I gave up that crazy stuff long ago though...Now, I just laugh at the writers when they start thinking on........Hell, you don't need to do all that dumbass stuff to get laid. Shit, now days just showing up usually......

.....................Although, in the old county, a little bloodshed may still be in order....

......Anyway, as you can guess, even with a damaged shoulder. I saved the frightened little sweetie. Then after that, luck smiled a little and we found a deserted cabin, in the nearby mountains. I will admit I did get a little sympathy as you would certainly expect, so yeah, I received all the amenities of a grateful heroine.

Then, we had a snow storm!

...........All you romantic folks will probably say, well Jared, what's wrong with that? A grateful heroine and lovemaking by the fire, in a snow covered cabin sounds romantic.

.....Well, thinking back, I guess all that was pretty....

............ Oh yeah, I recall, working the bad shoulder for all it was worth.

Don't snicker, I bet a few of your sweet mortal heroes have done the same.

Plus, she was the one throwing her little tantrum, when the team broke free from the wagon.

Although, she quickly proved her teeth were chip free, so truthfully, I soon felt pretty good about the whole snow thing. Well, I reckon the wagon thing wasn't all that bad either. Shoulders do heal and all....

Anyway, I am not one to fold my arms and pout, so I soon completely forgive her. Then, I just lay back by the fire and let her have her way.

My current little dry spell may be coloring things a little here...but...with my life saving shoulder accident at the forefront. I took delight when she climbed on top.

Whoa writer man.....What can I say? I truly enjoy the warmth of a woman moving up and down on my full length, especially if the movement is slow and deliberate. That way, I have time to savor every sensation. Plus you can see a million different emotions in her eyes as she too, searches and takes note of the pleasure of flesh brushing against flesh........................Oh.....yeah.....the eyes of a woman when she feels...

Plus, she even had to move extra slow, with my bad shoulder and all. ...........................Also, I like to throw in a little easy loving, just to get writer man wheels a spinning..

.....Don't get me wrong now, I don't mean to sound like I might be the only man around, who enjoys a woman moving up and down on his cock. Plus, some women have a special way of taking it all, then using her inner muscles to....yeah.........uh huh............... Shit, I bet even writer fellow would like that. I suspect though, he might turn her around so he can have easy access for a sudden....

................. Hell, I tell you what, if a man don't like all that, he should buy a wagon, get in it and then, run the damn thing over a fucking cliff. Well, not the finger part. The sliding up and down was my drift.

Whoa back now. I guess with Stanley being a little easy on the trigger already....Tennessee, you best not be using that squeezing talent I mentioned. I mean you have to know, just a little of that and he will pump like a......

...So yeah, all and all, I have to agree, the snow wasn't so bad.

However...we only had firewood and food for a couple of days.

Also, you might recall, early on I mentioned bears, mad Indians and arrows!

Writers, hell, they can never leave well enough alone.

That's why they piss me off to the core.

Well, let me get back to things. As you can imagine, I could create a lot of havoc, with all I have learned through time. But after all, I just live to love life; therefore, I never use what I know to cause, a writer or a reader, any real harm.

Speaking of loving life, well, I really don't think I want to get hurt at all, when I save the damsels. We will just have to find some other way, to try and maximize your reading pleasure.

I suppose though, we could play the arrow thing by ear. Like I said, the damsels of old may prefer a little blood so we'll just have to see what happens, after she's rescued. I reckon women were grateful in the old, old days. Yeah, sure they were.... or Knights wouldn't have been out there scouting about.

...Yes sir, those awesome fucking knights.

........In lieu of blood, I could try and smuggle in a little chap stick when I return. If my damsel happens to be a little ungrateful. I suspect that will heat her up.....

..............You know what folks? ......Well this may bust a bubble or two. .........But I really have to wonder, if those great Knights actually slayed as many dragons as they boasted about. I bet when you get right down to the bear, well dragon facts, I figure they just wounded the damsel stealing, fire breathing fellow. .......Hell, anyone knows if you deplete the number of dragons, you diminish the number of grateful damsels as well. Mercy, anyone knows you don't kill the goose that....

Oh well..........

.............Don't take me wrong now, when I said I didn't cause harm a while back. That doesn't mean, I can't, or don't, enjoy jerking a chain every now and again. I might also, on occasion, make a writer think they feel a well-directed bolt of lightning.

Notice now, I said the lightning is for the writers. The readers, well, like I said, I help them out whenever I can. I sometimes even let them feel...well, it's not lightning. Even though, when the time is just right, some might swear that it is.

Unlike the writers though, I don't take all the credit when it's not earned. I know we have to give the little water jets credit, for doing a lot of the grunt work.

On that note, I've been thinking a little on how to install a dildo, and quieten down the motor on a weed eater. I think the newer ones start up pretty easy as well. I know pushing a log chain ain't easy.....

...............So all in all, I consider myself to be a compassionate man.

In all honesty, I do wish he would have slept a little longer tonight. Although, to be honest and hold my compassionate nature, I'm actually worried a little about our new friend, Homer.

I know I shouldn't be worried, because as I've alluded to before, he and men like him are ultimately the reason for my existence. Hell, I also suppose, battery and water jet manufactures, should send him a thank you card as well. After all, his little sweetie who is sometimes curled up in the nearby chair, is one of my most avid readers.

I must say though, she fills out a pair of jeans very well.

No sir re. No wagon over a cliff for me.

Writer man just called my hand, by reminding me I was supposed to be honest.

I don't even know what he's talking about. You heard Pam telling me, exactly what she would be wearing. Hell, I reckon any man would do a little thinking, especially when a woman like that, starts talking about putting on a nightie.

I did mention she is a real looker, didn't I?

Okay, sorry, writer man, I don't think it's really been a dozen times though. Okay, okay, you don't have to pull up your little word counter....mercy me....

But anyway, my compassion for Homer was my original point. His sweetie can obviously stop traffic or make a sidewalk grab a whole lot a feet. I also know she loves her showers. Also, she can often get a little enthusiastic when she reads a good story, but bless her pretty little heart; she's over feeding her man!

I mean, hell, I can smell the fried chicken, every time I go over to check on things. So it's no damned wonder, the poor fellow is laid out like a big toad frog sunning along the Mississippi.

.................I tell you what though, aside from her occasional fantasy with me, she's a hopeful woman. Even with him snoring belly up, she's still trying to figure out, if he might be a damn hero in disguise.

But trust me folks... He ain't...I mean...he...goodness sakes!

.................I sure enjoy a little chicken though. Plus, after all, I'm worried about Homer overeating. So I don't see any reason why he shouldn't share a little of his stuff. I mean after all, it's for his own good.

Hell, the man already looks like, he's about two drumsticks away from the pearly gates as it is.

Keep in mind now, she has to invite me, into her world. I just can't hop over and snatch a piece of chicken whenever I want it. No mashed potatoes either....or apple pie. Well, two slices of apple pie...

However, right now, writer boy might just be making sense. He is saying, just implying I'm checking on a married reader, is bad enough. But now, that I've admitted to going over and adding, a little conviction, to the words in her book. Then, I am doomed for big trouble.

I suppose he means, conviction, in the context of making her kitty meow...

Well, as I said earlier, my concept of time is very slow. So I seldom jump to the meowing, when lots of purring should be done first. I think any man, well, at least, some of them should know a kitty will meow much better, if it's been kept purring for a while. Therefore, laying good solid ground work, is the key to doing anything right, don't you know.

Well, maybe you don't know, since a lot of mortal folk are always in a hurry.

.................I reckon though, for mortal folks, being in a hurry makes good sense, since they have to work _harder_ so to pay for all the modern conveniences, that make their life _easier._

Yeah, it all makes _perfect_ sense to me.

Besides, I have no idea what a handy little water sprayer might cost. ....Probably less expensive than a weed eater though.....Yeah, they should give those _temperamental little fuckers away...._

.............Anyway, I already mentioned I liked to eat. So he figures I, along with a lot of writers will likely starve to death since after reading this, all the women folks will be too scared to ever buy and read a book again.

Although, I was a little put out when he said that. I told him, I would agree, many readers will get all bent out of shape, no doubt.

I suppose my chain pushing comment will...hell, it's true though. But as you can see, I'm thinking on that happy hump problem.

Hell, between my words and his writing, a few heads may have already _exploded_. I reckon I can understand why though. Like writer man says, it's a sensitive world. Although, I have to wonder if some of the sensitivity is a little misplaced. After all, you mortal folks have enough nuclear energy compressed, to annihilate _half_ of this galaxy, but that's all good. No need to worry none about all that. However, a _misplaced comma_ or a _backward love scene_ , well now, that's some _bad shit_ right there.

.........Yes sir re.

................However...I think though, on the scared reader thing, all his worry is all for naught. I bet I will _still_ sell a couple of copies here and there.

Anyway, like a lot of the worry of mortal folks, I think a lot of writer man's worry is misplaced too. Plus, I don't think, he knows or _understands_ , just how _many_ kitties there are around, or how many of them need to be tamed. Well, stroked too...I mean the water jet does a good job and all but....Sometime they just need a good old fashion.....

................Well anyway my friends, let me tell you, even after losing some, due to head explosions, there is still a lot. We might've also lost a few, when I mentioned the gum chewing and body flop thing. I guess the furniture moving thing could've.....

I'm certainly no expert, well, just maybe I _am_ , but to be honest, I really think a lot of the frustrations, all boils down to the _improper petting_. Hell, almost all kitties obviously, get rubbed and taken to the wood shed often enough.

Mercy, you know exactly, how all that works so I won't even elaborate.

Whoa! Don't put on your, _what does he know_ , face again. I know some kitties have it going on with their wood supply. Well, they at least think they do. Plus, for some, a little wood can go a long way. We already covered all that anyhow.

Then there are the others.... Oh yeah, the _others_ ...

But for me to starve? Nah, I don't think so.

..Hmm...I guess, he didn't hear me say, just how good Homers woman can cook.

Plus, if he could see her, he wouldn't care if she didn't even _have_ a kitchen.

Ah hell, writer man seems quiet innocent, so I guess he don't even know about the little sex hormones that often infects mortal folk.

I won't say any more about kitties. Since I hear we have word count issues. But if the truth be told, the following easily explains, why there is so many that need rescuing from the wild.

........................ _.Whoa Florida sweetie, not yours of course, so let your head shrink back to normal. I know you're always put down with a happy, glowing smile._

Plus, we all know your stallion, even looks great in Speedos.

Whoa, there was a slight smile. You feeling a little better now?

I figured just the mere mention of Speedos would settle you right on down.

I like a smile much better than arm folding. So just go ahead and take a moment, let your thoughts run free.

Let me try and help a little...

......... _The sun is warm and the sky is blue. A cool ocean breeze touches your hair, as you watch your Speedo clad man walk gracefully along the beach. You beam with pride when you see all the other women smile, shift their legs and touch their hair, with the simple hope of catching his eyes._

......... _No really, their smiles are just to make themselves look all sweet._

Oh no...I don't reckon you're ever too big for speedos...I mean you mortal folks.....

... _When he reaches slightly deeper sand, your senses swoon as you watch the muscles of his perfect, hewed from granite buttocks, tense in response as he navigates through the heavier sand. With each deliberate step, the muscles of his thrust perfected thighs also ripple....He looks around and takes in all the admiring eyes...._

......... _Whoa, ouch! Damn, he looked around too long, I guess_

I didn't see that sand bucket either.

Don't panic....I think he's just temporally beached on his beer belly...he's getting up now, so yeah, he's fine...

Oh mercy....the fall rearranged his speedos a little......I better run...

................Well, I'm sorry about that, folks. She looks _pretty_ mad. I should've seen that sand bucket though. Anyway, I was just trying to help. I think she at least enjoyed a little of the short fantasy. Although, she may cut him back on the fried chicken now. I think too, she might fully appreciate and understand the next few paragraphs.

Like I said a minute ago, my writer, evidently don't know, about the sex hormone thing. But I, on the other hand, along with many of my wiser and faithful readers, know the _full effects_ of those little critters.

In fact they can be quiet interesting and ' _very good_ ' for a romantic hero down through time. Especially, for one that can travel with very little effort.

We did get the quotes on the, _very good_ , right?

Well, I might be taking it a little far, saying I know this and I know that. But it seems to me, when someone is originally infected with the hormone bug. Well, right then and there, they are.......

Shit... writer man is _still_ complaining and saying I wasn't being honest a little ways back. Mercy sake! I'm ready to move on and tell you about those marvelous little hormones. Yeah, you read that right. I _actually_ used _the_ M word, because I just think the hormone thing is just _that good_.

.................................................................................

...........................However, he's refusing to type until I clear things up.

Well, let me get this over with so he will shut the....... I hate it when he sits there looking all...

......Anyway....A while back I made a comment, in regards to worrying a little about Homer, because of Pam's good cooking and his overeating.

Writer boy says, I don't give a flying _fuck_ about Homer. Yeah, he said it....just like that. ....Hmm.....Hell, maybe we're spending too much time together. I just used the M word and now he's talking slang....

Well... to set the record straight and maintain my record of being _truthful._ I will say, I do worry about Homer just a little bit. However, I might have been just a little hazy with my reason for concern, because in all honesty, I don't care if he eats fourteen cheese burgers at every meal.

Okay, okay.....What really worries me in regards to our man Homer, is that one day, Pam is going to get wise to his ass, and when she does, I suspect what she serves up to him, won't have fries on the side. ......................I suppose though, if anyone has too much of anything on the side, he could still have a heart attack and all but...

I tell you what. ........If writer man would've just kept his mouth _shut_ , I could've easily skirted around this. Plus, I don't have any _concrete evidence_ , regarding Homers ordering up of stuff on the side. Besides, you mortal folks are just always......

...Yeah, you folks know how that _just always_ shit works.

However..........rumors say.... I mean everyone _knows_ how rumors are.....but anyway, rumors are floating about that...well.....they're suggesting he might be hooking up with an old high school flame. Someone, even said they might have been feeling a little nostalgic, because Homer somehow squeezed into his old football jersey, and Betty Joe even blew the dust off her cheerleading outfit.

..........I don't know for sure, but to further recreate the experience of the old days, I believe it was said.... he even borrowed his mommas old Buick. However, I don't actually think Pam would have been none the wiser, if his momma hadn't went a little ticked, and mentioned something about a little damage to the upholstery in her car. I mean the car is a classic in the making.

.......I reckon his momma was just curious an all ......because I hear the damage was up over the back seat.... I think there was a few spots on the seat as well...

Well, as you might guess, Pam was every bit as baffled as his momma was. I mean we all know, Homer is just _so_ cute when he sleeps...

..... _Cute my ass_ ...

.....I think though, Homer finally fessed up, and said he and some of his buddies were just out riding around a little. Then, he mentioned something about his buddies creating quite a ruckus in the back seat, after a rabid _Raccoon_ , just up and jumped in the damn side window.... Yeah, just up and hopped right in amongst them....

......I think though, anyone could easily see and understand, how that might get one hell of a ruckus going on. Yes sir re. I suspect the raccoon could've been gnashing its little teeth, while foaming at the mouth. .............That's probably what spotted up the seat, don't ya guess.

.................Then, word has it a friend of a friend, told Pam and his momma some stuff...... No folks, just stop your thinking now, because it wasn't me. I admit now. I did do a little detective work, in order to learn a little more about all this.....But.... like I already said, she is one beautiful woman. Plus I have no doubt she will need a _lot of consoling_ should the news break... and I do excel at the consoling thing.......However, I just can't go around starting trouble without _an invitation._

Plus, I just met the awesome Homer. Also, a man just can't go around blabbing shit about what another man does. I think there is just some code about all that.... and if you break it... Well, everybody will lose faith. I can understand that, I reckon

...................Hey! Wait a minute...I just said I understood.... I didn't write the damn code. That's just the way you mortal folk do things.

.................I mean if Pam was my sister or even a lifelong friend. Well then, I reckon that could be a different smoke altogether. So if that were the case, at the end of the day our boy Homer would likely decide, a mad raccoon was pretty small stuff.

.....Anyway, the friend I mentioned earlier, apparently knew the man who was repairing the Buicks upholstery, and someone that obviously had a few of his own ideas, about how the damage occurred.

....... I was over Savannah way last night, while writer man was sleeping....I was there just looking around a little...I think that's _pretty innocent_ ...I think I also mentioned she'll need a lot of consoling.....However, I'm still not making a biased judgment call, and go blabbing about stuff.

.....Yes sir re.........A mad raccoon......I tell you what....that's pretty good stuff though......

......I know a few female readers may _sneer_ , but I do think Homer deserves a little credit here. I mean, he at least had something creative happen....... I tell you, if it turns out Homers a _true blue_ ....I can easily see wildlife incidents rapidly becoming an epidemic worldwide. Hell, I don't know anyone that would need a cover story, and I know you don't either. But..... I've heard things over the years.... and the rabid raccoon _beats the dog shit_ out of any stories thus far.

....... Well yeah, I've heard _me and the boys just got started talking. I forgot where I lived.... My car wouldn't start_ , and other weak shit like that. ................I mean a mad raccoon though...shit that's some original stuff.

Anyway...... I think though, the rumor mill might feel pretty confident, of how the upholstery damage was actually caused.....I mean...I myself can't say much about that........... Hell, I don't even know what _size_ shoe Betty Joe wears. Also, I never saw her out jumping around in her cheerleading outfit. So, I don't even know how long her legs are either. Plus, as we discussed earlier, all kitties react very different, when a little catnip is slid their way. Then, of course we have the dry spell factor.

... I mean for all I, or anyone for that matter knows, a mad raccoon could've strapped on a pair of size seven tennis shoes. Then, just up and decided to leave a lot of shoe tracks and....yeah... kick a few holes in the upholstery. Like I say, I don't want to start up any trouble.....Plus, I've never seen one in action, but I suppose a mad Raccoon could be one _annoying_ little devil....

Well, I hope all that suits writer man. Here again though, that little story might _actually_ play into, what I was trying to say about those amazing little sex hormones. I tell you what, I have made the statement many times, about how writers can come up with some shit. Well, there's a possibility Homer can too.....

.....However, those little hormones.... Well...what's so interesting to me, is that they can make folks do...well, do stuff, that will out shine a hundred fold, anything the little writer can _ever_ conjure up. Folks, I'm talking about, even if the writer's having a _good hair day_ and _sucking on a bottle of jack_ , while their little muse is kicked back, smoking the _good_ stuff.

....... Yes sir re!

.......... You folks may have picked up on it already, but all the sensitivity and everyone's feelings getting hurt so easily..... Well, all that stuff is a little _discerning_ for me to say the least...... Writer man looks like he is already about to stroke out, but I also know, very few of the mortal folk are going to admit how anything that happens to them, might somehow be their own fault.

...........I mean hell, I think that's a good thing, because that's exactly why I think shrink work would be so lucrative. Just bring in a list of names, and we'll hook you up with someone to blame for this shit. ...No, never mind on the list, we'll pull a name from repressed memories. Yeah, all that would take a while, and I do get paid by the session. No worry though, we'll eventually figure out who fucked your goat.

Hell, this is good stuff, folks, but writer man is getting more peaked by the second.

........I reckon at the end of the day though, none of that matters to me. In fact most days, it can be _interesting_ to stand back and watch and listen, just to see what will happen next so to put folks in a tizzy.

................Anyway, I said all that about the blameless game, because from a romance hero's perspective at least, a failed romance is one of the major causes of _turmoil_ in the world. AND most often, it's actually not anyone's fault. Yeah, you read that right. It's really not your fault. Well, some folks could be just plain old annoying, and screw up a wet dream... but... I'm just talking mortals in general here.

................Then again, maybe I _shouldn't_ be telling this great secret of love and life here......Yeah, I probably should wait till I can get paid for it....There is after all, my ever present need for some nice foot wear and..... Ah hell, I'm just a made up character.... So no, nobody will believe me any old how.

..........Okay, if you remember, a little ways back I mentioned those _naughty_ little sex hormones. Well, those little fellows are what actually gets you mortal folks into such a mess. Yeah, that's the gist of it. How simple is that shit? I know you folks love a lot of excitement, but for the life of me, I can't come up with anything complex.

............. I tell you what though, before I figured out what was happening with the hormones. I would scratch my head and think.....Mercy, when it comes to thinking on things, and making shit happen, these mortal folks are an impressive bunch to say the least. They sail the seas, build tall buildings, chart the planets and fly to the moon... but...

.......Well, for me personally, a soft truck seat was a pretty good invention too, because it beats the hell out of a wooden board on wagon.... I mean even perfectly carved butt....

.......Oh yeah, then there's that little atom compressing thing you folks do. This is just a side note, since I know you folks like a grand finale and all....but.... I tell you one damn thing..... If the sad fuck fellow we talked about earlier...well... if he ever gets close to the ignite button on one of those sweet little bombs.....yeah, we're talking _maaajor climax_ ....No cuddling required.....

.......However, after accomplishing all those great feats, you all seem to give so little thought about decisions that involve saying stuff like, until death do you part..... Hell, I know you folks don't live all that long, but still... I think having some fucker following you every single....... I mean really now...

..............Oh yeah, before you start to sneer. I know some folks might take a breath from all the lip biting and jittering, to try and think it through. I guess they do that, because for a brief moment, they decide choosing someone to hang with till you die, just might be important stuff.... .....I guess though, even if mortal life is short, some might consider that the most important decision of a life time.

...... But actually, now that I know for sure what's really going on, important or not, it's pretty obvious logical thoughts, have very little to do with the whole thing anyhow. I mean those little hormones, well... they can make some shit happen too! I don't know about atom crunching and all that...but..

.........Well, I might have been a _little_ off base earlier, when I talked about the decision of a life time. Since I have no doubt some might say, deciding which car to drive is pretty dang important stuff too. I suspect what kind of cell phone to get, ranks up there pretty high as well........ Then there is the cover for it...ring tone....shoes.....

...... But hell, I'm trying to talk _romance_ here.

.............Oh yeah, I already know many of you will say, hoop de Lou, Jared. We know _all about_ that hormone stuff. Mercy sakes, we even learned about all that stuff in grade school. .....Well, you can say what you like, and I fully understand those years of soaking up knowledge, has instilled you with much wisdom. However, those little Hormone fellows, well they have a few million years of knowledge to their credit. Yes sir re, with all that working experience, you can trust me when I say, they can easily run circles around your awesome brain power.

.................. Plus, they know exactly how to hide _in plain_ _sight_ , while thoroughly convincing you of how their every want, is exactly what you wanted to do all along.

Yes sir re. .................I tell you what, when those fellows spot even a _hint_ of a match between two mortal....well they don't mess around when they decide, it's time to do some magic.

Oh yeah, the sun will make an appearance on a stormy day, and suddenly howdy is a meaningful conversation. Then, mercy sakes, if not at the initial introduction, things will happen quickly though. I mean you well know, something has to give, when they set the love flower to drip with dew, and suddenly sprout up a forest of hard wood.

Yes sir and yes mam re. Some shits gonna _happen_ , plain and simple.

Well yeah, hell, everyone know all about that.

I mentioned meaningful conversation earlier, but I might have been better served to have just said, they can inspire conversation. Then again, I guess any conversation has meaning when you're under the spell of the sweet little hormone critters. I think even the ability to _fart_ the first verse of the "Star Spangled Banner" can be impressive stuff.

No, I'm _not_ making this shit up! ....I said all that stuff about conversations earlier, because just the other day I was honored enough, to be present during one of those hormone induced conversations.

The lady I happened to be visiting, had apparently tried a couple or three of those _hormone inspired_ love affairs. Neither of us was in the mood for small talk, so I never asked what happened to her lovers. I just figured over time, the farting of a few favorite tunes might have lost its luster. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that isn't pretty impressive stuff. It's just....

............Anyhow, I reckon, she had decided on taking a break and just _read_ about romance for a while. I mean she's an attractive woman and very personable. I hear it happens on occasion, well, what am I saying? Hell, it actually happens a lot, but I assume her hormones just do a bad job when selecting her a partner. So I surmised that to be the _reason_ I was there, to help her calm them a little, so they don't inspire another mistake right away.

Anyway, for whatever reason she seemed content, at least for the moment to handle things manually. Well I best say, on this _particular_ day she was trying to handle things _manually_. I must also say she was doing one hell of a job, until there was an angry knock on the bedroom door.

........... I guess a lot of folks know how all that works. Well, your knock might not _always_ be angry.....but...

I mean to tell you though, when the knock came, she was _almost_ home. ...............I believe I would've...I mean we had her right there....

But I guess thinking she was alone, maybe she hadn't locked the door or something. So she jerked her fingers free and quickly pulled herself together.

Anyway, the thumping on the door, we soon concluded came from her oldest daughter. I learned later this mad little hornet..... _upset bundle of joy_ , was the compliments of mommy's first hormone selected sweetie.

Bundle of joy: Why did you have to go and tell Sarah's mom I might be pregnant? Grrrrr..... Then to top it off, you just had to add in a few bad things about Matthew as well.

Mom: Well, I guess everyone will know soon eno....

Bundle of joy: Yeah well....Just for your information, and I guess for Sarah's mom's too, Matthew and I are getting married.

Mom:...........uh......... Sweet heart, how could you even think.....My goodness.....he's likely going to jail.....and too, what about that other girl he's been....

Bundle of joy: Oh mom, for heaven sakes, he won't have to go to jail. If he does, it will only be for a little while. He never stole anything much.....and besides.....that police chase......well no one would've been hurt in the first place, if the stupid policeman had just known how to drive! .....And as far as Tara goes....well that bitch means nothing...he told me so himself. He was just hurt and acting out, because of some stuff I said... and did, when I was....was... texting his friend Mark...It was nothing. ..... Mom, Matthew is so sweet...if you just understood him like.....

......................Writer man says in order to be sensitive and all, I'll have to remember to use the words _acting out_ , instead of _fucking up_ when I get _my_ shrink office.

Duly noted.

Well anyway, that was pretty _mild_ stuff actually, but that little scenario was recent, and still fresh on my mind. I think we can pretty well assume though, that conversation will be rehashed somewhere along the way. I also think, mom should've finished her orgasm....but hell, I'm just a _made up character_.

......Oh well, I guess when it's all said and done, I reckon the hormone's _do_ show a little _mercy_ , and at least show up while mortals are young and still know everything. .......Well, along with all that _infinite wisdom_ , the young folks have more energy too. Therefore, they can _fully utilize_ the power of the hormones. I don't mean to say now, that they don't make frequent appearances with the _older_ folks as well. Hell yeah, they can still stir up some shit, no doubt, but I think their impact is just a little milder. I suppose with the passing of time, I guess they would just as soon hear someone actually _sing_ the "Star Spangled Banner"

Like I say, that's _just_ a guess......

Anyway ............When I first started to pay attention to how it all worked with the hormone thing. I suspected they must give the mortal folk some sort of blinders.....Hell, maybe even _rose colored glasses_. That made _perfect_ sense for a while, because you well know, all kinds of bad stuff is overlooked while those little fellows are doing their magic.....................Whoa!.. I don't mean to say prison time for example, is a _bad_ thing. Hell, I suspect you could get some really nice tattoos, and cheap. I suppose too, if you get your ass stroked a few times a day, it would make a medical colonoscopy, much less intimidating when you're older.

............................................Easy writer man. I'm just thinking a little here. This is _important shit_ , don't you know. Yes, I also understand, how those little critters still obey the law, of survival of the fittest. We already talked about that, and why out of four hundred men, all the women want the same two. Yes sir re, a _mammoth killer_ and _baby maker_ all in one. Shit, I don't care if he's a mass murderer, as long as he meets the _strongest fittest criteria......._

................ I know you folks can't get past all that, because the hormones are just _too powerful_. But talk about me being Stone Age? I guess nature never told those little critters, mammoths are _extinct_.

........... Well, I hope to still find a dragon or two...but still....

...................I suppose why I came up with the blinder idea earlier, is because back in the day, I recall we would use bridle blinds on a horse that was a little skittish. That way he couldn't see what was behind him, and I guess too, it limited his vision on what was around him as well.

However................after a while I pretty much abandoned that idea though, because it appears mortal folks do all that _crazy stuff_ with eyes wide open....I mean they just walk up to each other, and right then and there, they erase any and all flaws. ................Yes sir re, all that _annoying_ shit don't matter none sweetie, no not at all. Just bring in the hard wood, and settle this kitty right on down. I mean for some reason, it's already climbing the wall with _anticipation._

Mercy, if those little hormones can't get enough shit going on their own, you folks add in a little tequila or some other intoxicating and _mind altering_ shit. Then, as you well know, the show gets even better. Yes sir re, you hear or say stuff like.....I mean we haven't known each other very long, and admittedly we _were_ drinking a little....No.... we weren't smoking anything.... but momma, I truly think he's the one though. When he held me it was just so....so.... Words won't even......it was just so... Just so you know, the last line was uttered, with thoughtful eyes and shuddering shoulders.

.....Hell, we _already_ talked about how those butterflies and jitters can cause a stir, even if you're sober. Shit, I bet they could even get some folks so worked up, they would go and kick a few holes in the upholstery of a Buick.......Oh yeah, it feels so good! Oh baby! Can you ever _tame_ this kitty!

....I don't know for sure but I believe, along about here, is where the famous _deer in the headlight look_ is _perfected_. Then it's... Mercy Me! Can we do this every day till we die?

.......I suppose though, the _till death do you part_ stuff worked pretty well in the mammoth killing days....Hell, you folks didn't usually make it past twenty five years old.... So I guess you had to get it done in a hurry.

.....Whoa, I'm not trying to rush and spoil anything here. I know the kitty needs taming again right now, so the death do you part stuff is probably not actually mentioned at this point. Plus, you need to have your clothes on, and some really expensive ones too, when you stand up and tell everyone a lifelong deal has been struck.

............Well hell, I'm just thinking out loud. I know you folks already know what I'm talking about. Probably even been through all that.

Anyway, let me get back to my original point of how everyone is blameless. I guess my point in all the rambling, was to say you folks _can't fight back_ , because the hormones take away any and all resolve. Like I said, those fellows have had millions of years to perfect their craft. Don't get me wrong, some folks thrive on doing stupid things, but others...well... they try to at least put up a little scrap...

......Okay okay...writer man...I know sometimes the hormones do well when hooking folks up. They also stay around a while for a few folks...

.......................However, for some they just hang around long enough to set a lot of stuff in motion.....then, after a little time passes, I reckon they just up and wonder off someplace and start hanging out with somebody else......... Notice, I said time passed. So again, don't get me wrong. While it was passing, a lot of flowers bloomed and kittens purred. Plus, a whole passel of hard timber was fully utilized. Then things were obviously tested a bunch more, just to make sure there wasn't anything missed in the initial utilizations.

.................Well hell, that _ain't_ rocket science. You know all too well how that all works. Also, don't get me wrong, all that testing is good stuff. Yes sir re, those hormones can make even a sleepy kitty, meow and do the _stray cat strut_.

........ Although......like the writers, mortal folk just can't seem to leave _a good thing_ alone.... I guess though.... everyone just enjoys getting into some nice clothes. Then, walk up to each other and talk about that, until death stuff.

..........I reckon too, most of you folks have to know, those little hormones are _laughing_ , even if you are dressed up all nice and sipping on expensive champagne. Hell, even while you're drinking the champagne, those naughty critters may have the handsome groom glancing around a little, and contemplating on spending a little time with a couple of bride's maids. No big thoughts at this point, I suspect, just a few casual, passing......

.......No writer man, I'm not making this shit up. I deal with the fall out, those critters leave behind every day. Mercy! You never know what those little fuckers will do _next._ I mean hell, the bride, well she might be thinking the best man cleans up pretty damn good too. Hell, that suit does seem to highlight his shoulders and.....

.......................Ah yeah.......I tell you what, those weddings are pretty fun though... I enjoy one myself, well, someone else's of course.... I actually like the receptions best, everyone's all happy....brides maids are usually feeling all _frisky_ ... Well... I and maybe some of the groomsmen do what we can, since I reckon they deserve to be happy too. They did get dressed up and all.

..................I guess though, seeing a lot of that happiness come and then go, is what has caused me to give all that so much thought over the years. I always reckoned, in my own logic at least, the wedding couple seems _happy as can be_ , so why can't they just stay that way. Hell, they usually seem like nice enough folks to me....

Trust me, I'm no stranger to the ups and downs of life. I mean as you well know, writers love keeping me in turmoil, because hell, that's what I do. However, like I said earlier about my friend in South Dakota, when the mortal life goes south, there's no writer to yank them out of the fire. Well, in the mortal world, there's probably a lot less bears, floods, wagon wrecks and Indians.....but....Zombies are pretty _rare_ as well.

Okay, okay, mercy. Writer man says that's none of my concern. Mortal folk make it just fine....

Shit, I don't see what he's getting so bent out of shape about. I'm just talking here, and I like to think on stuff. Shit, even if I do think you folks are an interesting lot. I can't say nothing about all that or he will complain about that too.

Anyway, he can say what he wants. I was just trying to make a point about how you folks are all on your own, once those crafty little hormones ship out........ Hell, I don't even think they leave a _forwarding address_...... Well, I suppose you aren't completely alone after they check out. I mean once its clear Horatio the magnificent is now Homer the frog, I guess then the restraining order guy and divorce attorney's, will offer up some valuable help along the way.

...............As expected, writer boy added his two cents here, and said a lot of arguing and make up sex is in play prior to all that happening... I suspect that is just the death throws causing a little stir. Then, he said there could be some counseling along the way too.... I told him that was true, unless the hormones of one party, had already taken an immediate liking to the hormones of a _third party_. I swear momma, he's the one this time...............See what I mean, even writer man knows how they are.

Ah hell, I could write an essay on how all that shit goes down. However, I am going to shut up about it all and tell you what I think _really_ happens. Plus, I just said all that, to try and explain my original statement of why everyone is blameless. Well, we can't forget those really annoying folk....

I wish we had a little drum roll here, because this is profound stuff. ..................Anyway, after all the aforementioned thought. I have concluded, the main reason the hormones come and go so much...is that...well it's because there isn't enough to go around......... I suspect in some cases, they would like to stay around, I guess. After all the kitty purrs well enough, and the hard wood still stands up reasonably well. I mean there's no fucking with the house on fire, so it's not like the early days an all....... However, with the overall shortage out there, they have to go. I reckon too, things won't get any better with time.

Hell, for all I know, it could get _worse_. I mean the law of supply and demand pretty much suggest that it will, because when the hormone's pack up their bags, they often leave behind three or four _more_ little mortals. .................Well, there you go. We all know perfectly well. Just a few years down the road, those little folks will be grown up. Then hell, they will be chomping at the bit, to grab their hormones, from an already short supply.

......Although, I or anyone for that matter, can easily see how a shortage could occur. If you remember earlier, I mentioned how in the early days, you mortal folks only lived twenty five years or so........Well, there you go. The hormones are used to showing up, getting things done, then getting to hell out, before a dinosaur stepped on your ragged ass....

.... I suppose, whether you were male or female, if your toothless ass survived a few more years, they might've tried to hang with you.... I do imagine though, along with missing teeth, the hair was pretty much a mess as well....probably an eye or arm missing from trying to bitch slap a tyrannosaurus or some shit like that. I guess at that point, they decided nobody's gonna want none of _this_. So the sweet little hormones pack up their shit for good.

..................I don't know, but I think a lot of problems could be solved. If some high ranking mortal, would sit down with the hormones, and maybe make mention of the fact, you folks hang on longer than you did in the cave days.

.....Okay, there you have it folks, you are blame free and no lightning bolt for you either. So....... now can you see, why I said those hormones are so good for a romance hero? Yes sir re. Someone has to step in and fill the gap, and offer up a few pleasantries, while law enforcement and legal folks are straightening out the hard stuff. I mean the little hand held shower heads are there to help as well...but things are still mighty damn good for a traveling hero.

...Mercy, as you might expect, writer man is _still_ fit to be tied. All because I give my opinion on the hormone thing. Hell, he was the one that said I would starve to death, all because I was talking with a married woman..... Mercy, all I was trying to do was show how some folks might want to pick up a book, and read about a happy ending, where the hormones are always alive and well. So with that in mind, there is a lot out there that enjoys a little help, in finding their own happy ending.

...................Now he is _complaining_ , because I said the Hormones leave without a forwarding address. He said marriage was a beautiful thing, and in some cases the hormones never even try to escape. He says even if they do try and make a run for it, a marriage counselor can sometimes round them up and bring them back.

.....Hell, he didn't need to say all that. We already talked about how some folks make it to happy ever after. We even talked about how a few zeros, can add life to the hormones situation. I reckon there something going on, if out of the blue, you up and decide you've been a submissive sex slave since birth.

.......We also talked about the dog that won't hunt or wood that won't spike...

.................Oh yeah, I guess those little fellows really think it's a knee slapper, when they bail on just one of the happy partners. I reckon that's when we get all the furniture arranged real nice. I suppose too, that is where the, _weeelll I gueeess you can have some..._ comes in to play as well. Probably also adds extra work for the restraining order folks too.

Hell, you folks know exactly how all that works. Plus, I'm getting tired of talking....... Whoa ho! I just had one great last thought!

I say again! I'm so glad were getting this down.

Anyway folks, just ride with me here for a moment.

................ Okay, as you know the great Knights thing baffles the shit out of me. Well, _not anymore_!

......................Because I just may or do have a line on their power over the lady folk. Yes sir re, momma!

Well hell, here I go again with the simple stuff, but folks the knight's secret..... Well hell, it's all in his metal suit! I should have figured that out a long time ago........Okay.... I guess it's not in the actual suit, per say. It's just that when he has his suit on, his hormones are trapped....and can't escape....

Well, writer man rolled his eyes at that great realization, but anyway, I'm just thinking on stuff. Because only the awesome power of nature, could put all the aforementioned forces into play.

.............I know too, some doubters may even sneer at these words, but way down deep, even they know every word is _true._ Well, the knight suit may be a little.....

I tell you what though................

........Whoa whoa.... No shit? .........Well folks. I guess writer man has heard enough of my country boy logic. He says we also have enough reader input. I knew all that shit was crazy from the get go, but like I said, my writer list was short. ...........................To be honest though, I think he's taken _advantage_ of that, and jerked me around a little....Well _a lot_ actually...but....

........Well, he's trying to make nice, and says that not true. However, I think a lot was said, when he kept suggesting I take a bunch of meds...... ....Mercy me.... he's actually _cryin_ ......

.....It looks like we're in for a little delay. No harm I guess, since I'm already well overdue for catching back up with Bart....... Although, I hate to leave him in such a state. Maybe I could call someone? Whoa, someone is at the door now.....
Chapter Twelve

Serena

Sorry folks. But we have to add in _another_ introduction here.

Hello everyone. I'm Serena Santiago. Well, I guess you know me best as "Mad Woman" ................Just so you know up front. I do have my moments, but a broom is _seldom_ or actually never my mode of transportation. ....But after just glancing over what Jared has come up with here. ..............................Well, let me tell you, _Mr. Jared Lee McCormick_ ...uh...uh.....just thinks he's seen my green eyes spit fire.

...........Can you folks even believe all the mouthing off he's been doing? I tell you what! He sometimes jokes about me turning _redneck_ in a heartbeat...well, there again, he ain't seen nothing yet!

Okay Serena....deep breath...deep breathe...

........Alright, I will try and stay focused...... To be honest. Up until now, I was actually worried, because I thought Jared had dropped off the planet. Then, out of the blue, his writer showed up at my house a few days back. By the way, there _is no_ Knight out there, but the grass looks perfectly fine and so does Jared's beloved horse. And yes, after all that, my nails still look _damn_ good. ..................Damn he makes me mad!

Deep breathe....

......Jared had always told me, about how he wanted to write his own book one day...but mercy... I just thought he was talking more of his bullshit. I guess you can already, very well see, how he could fill up a library with that talent. ........Well, he has a lot of other talents as well, but I'm much _too mad_ , to be even thinking on all that right now.

Well, as Jared says. _You folks know how that works_.

.. _Uggg..._ uh.....Oh yeah...his long drawn out love scene pissed me off as well. I guess pissed was actually putting it mildly, when he said, " _Yes, you know all about lovemaking like that, don't you Serena girl._ " Yeah, I _do_ know all about that. I just need to know _who in the hell_ , he thinks is going to _make love to me like that,_ with _him_ out here acting a _damn fool_!

......................... Plus, right now, he don't need to be calling me Serena girl either.

...........Oh well, I could write an essay on how I feel right now.

However, I must stay calm and share a little bad news. When Bernard, as you have come to know him, came to my house. I learned his real name is William Jensen, and the real kicker is, he is not a writer at all. Although, we can rest assured, Jared certainly _won't_ see it, but I guess there might actually be a little humor here. Well, a lot considering my personal mood of the moment.

Anyway, if you remember early on. Jared said a lot of the writers he contacted, thought he had lost his mind.....Well, when the truth be told, they didn't just think, they decided, they pretty much knew, he was missing a few _steps_ on the _stair case._

The best I can understand at the moment, Mr. Jensen happened to be present, when Jared approached a well know local writer. Of course the writer turned Jared down on doing his story. However, Mr. Jensen was intrigued, and apparently took a liking to Jared and his book idea right away. Just so you know, Jared could sell ice water to a naked man on an iceberg, if he sets his mind to it. Although, I reckon a _naked_ woman would be more to _his_ liking.

However, like my own, I think Mr. Jensen's writing skills were limited to a couple of papers in computer class, but I guess he figured, what to hell. If Jared was as looney as it appeared, he wouldn't know the difference anyhow. I think he was right, even though it was obvious to me, there were a few times where Jared seriously considered decking him.

I guess though, I should admit that I bear a little of the responsibility, for things going south. I think when Mr. Jensen came to the house, if I had just played along and acted like Jared was crazy, things would have _been fine._

Oh! Just so you know, I had yet to read his story, or I might have done things much different.

Anyway, like always, I _immediately_ came to Jared's defense. In his defense, I just had to go and prove to Mr. Jensen, how I could enter his thoughts as well. Then, I went and told him practically the same story Jared had, regarding Mary Beth, our original romance author. Although...... I kind of left out the part, about how she forever stranded sweet little me in a conflict moment, and Jared as the _world's greatest womanizer_.

I prefer, on occasion to just call him a _whore dog_ ...but...

.....Just for the record, in the original story, Jared was written in as...well... as a _whore dog_ ... Okay...let me be a little fair here, and say he was written in as a handsome, carefree womanizer of sorts. He was supposed, to just add a little side drama and compete for my attention, while my real Hero was away fighting the war.

Then, as you will learn soon enough, I was written to fight him with tooth and nail. Although, as much as I hate to say it right now, I fell deeply in love nonetheless. Well, as you might also guess, we don't fight all the time, just when my conflicted personality shows up. Oh yeah, Jared can have his little.... _mildly upset_ moments too.

Although, I can assure you I don't actually ride a broom, hell, I don't even like sweeping with one. Oh, by the way, as far as I know, there isn't a hammer in my closet either.

.....................Well, Jared leaves tools and shit _everywhere_ so I might need to verify that statement. Besides, I might have a serious need for one pretty damn soon.

Oh well, like Jared says, it tis what it tis so I will get on with things.

I suspect though, if I had just kept my mouth shut. At this very moment, Mr. Jensen might still be recording Jared's adventures in old England. Although, in spite of everything that's happened, I hear that Mr.....well actually _, Dr_. Jensen will be fine. I reckon he will be out of the straight jacket in a week or two. Plus, some of his medical team even says, with the help of medication and therapy, he might be able to reopen his psychiatric practice in less than a year.

...............Although, I suppose when he's back at work, and a swaggering cowboy shows up, wearing a mischievous grin......well...I do imagine he will handle things much, much differently. Also, for the sake of woman kind, I certainly hope he rethinks the sudden finger scenario. .... _Mercy me!_

Okay! Let me quickly erase all that from my mind, by telling you some good news...Well, for me it's very good, because I'm going to take over the writing of Mr. McCormick's story. Yeah, you read that right. Actually though, I won't be typing the words, but I'll pretty much have full control of him...yeah and his little story too.

I think though, before I say much more. I ought to back up some, and share with you a little of what happened, before the writer melt down, and Jared's return to England.

It's my belief, that things started to slowly unravel early on, when Dr. Jensen finally conceded, Jared could actually enter his thoughts. Therefore, his planned _secret analysis_ of Jared sort of run amuck. I'm not sure he ever fully believed Jared's story about being a romance hero. I just think he soon started to question, if he himself, was slipping over the edge.

However, I do believe he started to find a little truth in Jared's humor, and country boy logic. I guess though, Jared's humor would make anyone crazy. I figure you probably noticed, how he pulled his favorite get a reaction stunt a lot. By telling some things as they were. Then turned right around and tell other things in total reverse.

Can you see why, he _might_ just piss me off a little too?

Oh well.....Then, somewhere along the way, an already frazzled Dr. Jensen lost his lady friend. I don't know if it was Jared's fault or his obsessive disorder was too much for her. Well, the sudden finger could've caused a problem or three. But whatever the reason, by the time he showed up at my door, he was pretty exasperated to say the least.

Anyway, even after I showed him I was like Jared. He stayed awhile and seemed to settle out a little. Then, he went to his car, and came back with a copy of Jared's little manuscript.....

I suppose at that point, I still could've smoothed things over...but... This is about where, Dr. Jenson accepted a cup of tea, and I thumbed through the pages ........ Oh yeah, I thumbed right on through......

Anyway, there was a lot of deep breaths, but anyway.

Jared did so much jabbering about everything under the sun, so I don't know if you can recall how, at one point he sort of hinted at the fact, I might hold a few of his secrets......Well, I do know some....But we all know, I would never......... However, when I was handed such a wonderful opportunity to jerk his chain. ........No.... an opportunity to thoroughly kick his well chiseled ass, as he calls it. Yeah, and it was just sitting right there in front of me, on a silver platter no less. ......Then as things progressed, I was even given a knife and fork.............I mean how on earth could a hammer swinging, knee pad wearing, broom riding bitch, pass up such a wonderf......

_Deep breathe Serena.....deep breathe_ ....

Mercy me! ...............But before I make a complete fool of myself, I will get on with things. Okay.....before Dr. Jensen lost it completely, he convinced Jared to let him bring in another writer. ..............Well, I just happen to be the one that recommended the new writer.... Actually, she's not a writer at all, just a longtime friend of mine, who can type a little....

....... Oh, just so you know, she was an _easy sell_ for Jared. After all we know he has a weakness for the ladies, especially when they come equipped with shapely long legs. ......I'm just guessing, but I suspect he also likes firm full breast. Oh yeah, a lot of long dark hair too. Well, my friend Gina, who is now sitting at the keyboard, just happens to have all those features. Plus, when the need arises, she knows how to highlight them _very_ well.

So, can you see why Jared was an easy sell? I suppose he figures when he stops by, she will eagerly join him on the couch for a little hero/writer collaboration.... Well, I heard _someplace_ , a _mass of long dark hair wrapped around him, would cure ever ailment_......

......... Oh yeah...trust me he will be cured...well that is, if _running off at the mouth_ can be called an _ailment_ ....

Gina just said she's so fed up with Hero's and Mortal men, her pharmacy is _closed till_ further notice.

..................However, I know Jared well enough to know, his medicine will have to be administered slowly. If he smells a rat, he will pull back in a heartbeat, and strike like a rattlesnake. ...................Plus, I hate to admit it, especially the way I feel right now, but I love the man just a little...well I guess it's, with every little thing inside of me.

Although, I won't be like Jared and say, hell yeah, you know how all that shit works. I will say, maybe some of you might know how all that works.

Whoa! Whoa! Gina just gave me a disappointed look, and asked if I was going soft so early.

Most certainly _not_! He is in for a ride no doubt. But this time he won't be the one riding nor screwing this cow! I just had a little moment there, that's all.

Well folks, I'm going to leave you now. I believe Jared has already hooked back up with the knight....I believe his name was Bart? .........Oh!...........I may very well make a trip to old England myself. Well, what am I saying? ....I will make the trip at some point. I also have another, sweet little friend coming in shortly, and I hear she wants to take a little trip as well.....Therefore, I have much to do. ......Whoa again.......I heard someone say just a while back, how I was quite the _prissy_ one. _My, my, my.....such a dainty little ole southern girl. How on earth shall I eva survive, because I also hear there are no nail or toe places over there. Oh...and heaven forbid, no hair places either._

I don't know who would've ever said such a _condescending_ thing.....I'm just glad he got a lot of that shit written down, don't you know.

