Kisses, m.
photo credit: the business man - c/o tylershields.com |
Damn!
“Damn!”
Sometimes you find yourself in a situation that warrants a certain action. The delicate handling of an otherwise tricky circumstance. And on this night in the back of an old Coupe de Ville Yancey Taylor found himself in one of those situations that certainly warranted handling.
Yancey Taylor wasn’t anyone that anybody would notice. Hell even his name wouldn’t catch your attention. Back then he was a shaggy haired kid that hadn’t grown into himself. Now Boots McGhee might roll off your tongue just a little bit more appropriately. And as such it did. Yancey always was a ladies man but mostly without the ladies before Boots the rocker picked up. But that’s getting a little ahead of things.
Now in any story they’ll tell you what happens wasn’t much fun. In the case of Boots McGhee every story was more than ample fun and that was hardly overstating the obvious.
Yancey Aloysius Taylor was the son of a carpenter. He wasn’t much for following in his old man’s footsteps. Picking up a hammer couldn’t quite compare to picking up a guitar. As matter of fact as young as he could remember he always wanted to be a musician. So it came as no wonder that he did. Yancey Taylor played with a band for five odd years before it went platinum, gold and silver. And that’s when good ol’ Boots McGhee came round to show ‘em a thing or too.
Boots had a following with the ladies from the beginning. Right down to the tips of his boots he had something going for him. His namesake was the thing that landed him on the scene. That was the thing with good ol Boots. He had a reputation that preceded him with all the ladies. And sure enough the word got around. Every gal wanted a part of the man. Didn’t matter if he had an old lady or not, they all wanted him just the same. On more than one occasion he kept a good time gal exclusive for a string of shows. Didn’t happen too often but it happened.
Young, old, middle aged made no difference for the most part. Except. Well we all have our preference for things. As most men do, Boots certainly had a preference when it came to women. A fine connoisseur, his typically included a particularity for jail bait.
Middle-aged washed up rocker or not, some things never change…
Underage Sally wasn’t the first, the last and most certainly wouldn’t be the only on his list. Seventeen teen queen wanted to meet her favorite guitar man after the show. Well Boots obliged that young thing the honor when he took her back to his Coupe De Ville after the show. Straight to the backseat with a bottle of his favorite bourbon and his favorite pair of boots.
This particular night was about the same as all the other times he’d taken a young thing back to the car with him. Except on this occasion Bo0ts got a little more than he’d expected. Sally Seventeen sure knew her way around a backseat as much as how to work the man sitting in it. Boots didn’t mind so much as long as he got to keep his mouth on the bottle and enjoy the ride. According to good old Boots there wasn’t anything in this world quite like looking at a naked woman while she’s playing cowgirl with him.
She told him to hold her close.
And he held her close.
From behind she looked a bit like an angel and he told her as much while stroking her back. She smiled and he knew but couldn’t see it. Soft curls of brown bounced quickly in front of his face. With every movement she tilted her hips further backward. The farther back she pressed against him, the faster he felt himself climb. Eager to prolong things a bit more…
Spread a little wider is what he told her.
And that’s what she did.
Somewhere between the front and the middle Boots brought in a pinch hitter size 12 ½ double wide. And that’s exactly what the doctor ordered. A push of his heel and a press his bare hand his good ol boot came directly into play. Without much thought Sally wasn’t thinking when she felt the other player enter the game and fell right into the rhythm of things.
You might begin to wonder if a man like good ol Boots served any jail time over a little bit of bait. Well that’s where this story gets interesting if you know what I mean.
Handling business on this occasion was exactly what Boots and his underage companion were doing when it happened. It might have been the way that underage filly was giving the old boy a run for his money or it might have been that the boot fit in just the wrong way. Sure enough though somewhere between climax and carefree that little gal caught herself on the tip of his boot.
But bleeding, that’s not what happened to catch their attention. Now what stopped them from climbing any higher was something altogether different. It wasn’t even a wonder that anyone had been hurt when the siren’s sounded across from the vehicle.
“Damn” is what he thought as much as what he said when the cops pulled up to the ride. There wasn’t much to it when the ride came to an end. Sally even leaned back and kissed him when he let her down real gentle. Even with the sight of their bloody mess she kissed even harder.
These things happen is what she said with a laugh.
So “these things happen” is what he told them. But that was before they saw there was blood. Enough blood to make a situation necessary to handle.
After there was blood they said he’d be lucky to stay out of jail. And lucky he was when Sally Seventeen said she’d been expecting a visit from her Aunt. The police didn't like it much but they had to agree it was a ace trick he had up his sleeve. And in the end, the only thing that stuck Boots in jail that night was two counts of breaking his probation for the alcohol.
See Yancey Taylor wasn’t a legendary man, but good ol Boots McGhee he was such a man. And now some might say what happened was legendary and some say that’s how legends are made. But one thing’s for certain, on that night that’s what good old Boots did. He made himself a legend with little Sally Seventeen.
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