Well--never seen you here before. Nice sunglasses---those designer or somethin'? Anythin' I can do for ya? Sure, a beer'd be fine, thanks. Thanks, thanks. No, no problems answerin' some questions--I'm here every night, mostly. Anything go on here, I sees it.

Hehehe--why'd I think someone'd be askin' about her one day? Everyone here remembers that girl--shit, you'd have to be dead and buried to forget something like her. I'll be dead and six feet under before I'll ever forget her. Yeah. She was--

What? You wanna know 'bout her, doncha? Shit--lemme get a drink of my beer. This ain't a story for the sober, no sir.

She's was already here when I got in--my wife been givin' me some crap about comin' here evenin's and I spent some of that quality time, what have you, with her, so I's was late. Bartender's an old friend--Micky--real nice guy. Real nice. Told me she'd been here for a couple hours, drinkin' her way through quite a few glasses and shootin' when she wasn't drinkin'. Hard drinker, that girl. I sent her over a bourbon--just to be hospitable, you understand. I ain't the type that picks up girls at random, but shit, man--shit.

She was fucking unbelievable, especially in a place like this. I mean--she belonged in one of those snazzy clubs uptown, you know? Black latex bodysuit, black heels--heavy make-up. Lots of it. All this hair with a fuckin' white streak pulled behind her ear. Chewin' on a cigar like it was nothin' to her and tossin' drinks--well, I ain't never run across somethin' like that. Everyone was starin' at her and not one of the pussys here had the balls to go near her. Fucking idiots--she had that look, ya know. You know--like she came here for a reason, to get fucked.

Micky took the bourbon to her and I drank my beer. Just bein' friendly to her, that's all. I ain't thinkin' nothin' cept she was fucking hot.

When she gets the drink, she sorta looks over at me--throws me this smile. Hunnerd watts of brilliance. Sorta tosses her head and Micky came over and kind of warned me that she weren't like nona the other girls that come in here. Said she wasn't right in the head.

Hell, with a body like hers, who gives a good damn, I say. You lookin' a little green there--don't like the beer? I'd go for the local tap meself--I don't care for the import crap. Buy American, I says. Don't fatten up them foreign fuckers livin' off the workin' American man. Shittin' in high cotton, they are--I can't tell ya how many times I've noticed it, the way them there bastards are workin' their way into--huh? Oh. Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I sorta get distracted.

She wadn't right in th' head. That's what Micky told me. And I weren't plannin' nothin', you see? Nothin'. I don't do that sorta thing. Me, I have kids. Happy marriage, you see, even if the wife's a bit of a bitch. That's how it goes. You live, you learn.

In any ways--she sort of nods to me--and I'm jest bein' friendly, you understand. So I get my beer and walk over--you don't needta look so suspicious, man! I wadn't plannin' nothin'--nothin' at all. Married--well, I know I told ya, but you aren't gettin' it. Buy me another beer and maybe I talk. I don't need this crap from a snot nosed brat like you.

Listen--listen--it wasn't like that at all, don't get all pissy. I sat beside her and we sorta chatted a little. I asked her her name. Rogue. Weird name, but hell, I've heard some weirder.

And lemme tell you, she was even better up close. Covered in black from head to toe, not an inch of skin to be seen--but shit, it was like paint on her. Butcha know what struck me most? Them gloves. Black leather. Mustve cost her a pretty penny, man.

"So whatcha doin' here?" I asked her, just curious, mind ya. Just curious. But she tossed her head a little.

"Travelin, sugah," she answers me, smilin' again. Takes another pull at the beer, looks at me over the edge. "What your name?"

"Terry. Terry Jones," I tell her. She finishes her beer, settin' down the glass. "Can I getcha 'nother drink, baby?"

"Sure." She takes another drag from the cigar, notices me lookin' at it. "What, you never see a cigar before?"

Not in the hands of something like that. She kind of smiled when she held it, rollin' it beween her fingers like--well, like she was thinkin' of somethin' else. You get the idea.

"Never seen such a purty woman with one," I answer. She leans over, puts a hand on my thigh--that were an invitation if I ever saw one, lemme tell you. Squeezes and I'm already fucking hard from lookin' at her.

"I picked up a taste for it," she answers, all cool, then takes her hand away and gets the beer from Micky. Kind of looks me up and down, sort of sleepy-eyed--like she's sizin' me up or somethin'. "You wanna dance?"

And I'm thinkin', maybe it ain't such a good idea--but ya know, it's only a dance--and anyways, I wasn't thinkin' nothing, ya gotta understand that.

So's I get up and she follows me out, and I can feel those eyes on me the whole damned time. Like she was strippin' me right there. Wraps those cool leather-coated fingers 'round mine and comes up close so's I can feel every curve of her body.

She wouldn't lemme touch her much, though--not that I was tryin' to or nothin'. Just that hand in hers and one around her waist--for dancin' ya understand, nothin' more. But she keeps slidin' aginst me---an' I'm justa man, you know. She looks up at me from under those long lashes, then spins away and pulls me along with her.

"Let's find someplace a little quieter, hey, sugah?" she says, and before I can really think 'bout it, she drops a wad of bills on the bar and pulls me outside.

I don't have no excuses--none at all, 'cept she was hot as hell. She asked where the motel was and I led her there in my truck. She paid for the room and got the key and sorta--well, she stalked me in there. Make any sense? And it was the weirdest goddamn feeling in the world--I could feel her eyes on me all the time. And we get in and I start to reach for the light switch but she knocks my hand away and shuts the door--damned if I know how the fuck she could see in there. Damned if I know.

And she stops me and runs that leather covered hand down my arm and I try to kiss her and she pushes me back.

"No. Don't touch."

What the fuck did she mean, don't touch? But before I could ask her anything, she gives me this push and I'm on the bed--how the fuck she knew where it was I have no clue. And she laughs real soft--real odd laugh, like almost a growl--and I feel her straddle me and she pins my hands above my head and leans down so close I can feel her breath on my face.

"Wanna fuck, darlin'?"

Only one answer to that.

"Yeah."

She laughs and unbuttons my shirt--and God, the feel of that leather on my chest was amazing. Smooth as all hell. And I run my hands over that covered skin, over her thighs, never felt anythin' like it. And she pushes me a little higher on the bed and does that thing again--growling? I don't know another word for it. And I try to touch her face and she hisses somethin' and my hands are pinned above my head.

"You wanna enjoy this, baby? Keep those pretty hands to yourself." And she slides my hands under her knees--she's fucking strong--and she unfastens my jeans and pulls 'em down and then before I even can figure out what the fuck she's doing, I hear a rip and she slides a condom on me.

Safe girl. Very safe.

Yeah, another beer would be great, man. thanks. Fuck, that was good--my wife don't give head, not never. But she--Rogue--just takes me in her mouth and God--I ain't never had anything like that before. And I can't even move my hips, she's got me pinned so tight--and--shit, man, I begged her. Begged her, promised her whatever the fuck she wanted, and she sort of laughs and the feeling goes straight up my cock and I'm shaking and she lifts up and slides herself over me--and I realize there's an opening down there in that suit, but she gets my hands again and pins 'em down and then she just rocks onto me and I find out somethin' else--

That girl was virgin as they come.

She sorta makes this noise--that growl or somethin'?--and then pulls herself up and slides back, slow, and damn, I wish I could've seen her face, but she's really quiet--she does it again, takin' a little more each time--fuck, she's tight as hell and wet--then she growls something and pushes down fucking hard until she gets all of me and she lets out this breath and I'm just trying to think of anything but how tight she is around me.

"Good," she whispers to me and then her fingers tighten on my wrists. "Very damned nice. Give me a good ride, darlin'."

And she slides up and I buck into her when she's coming' down and she hisses something against my ear and we fucking go at it. Virgin or not, she knows everything, how to twist her hips and how to clench around me and how to fucking ride the perfect fucking rhythm and God--I couldn't even breathe and I can hear her panting above me and then she sort of stiffens and I feel her start to come and she mumbles somethin' that ain't my name. It ain't. And I feel myself comin' and--

--and God, she clenches so tight I swear she can feel every vein in my cock. And I'm screaming somethin'--shit, I still don't know what the fuck it was. But--damn. Damn.

Gimme a sec here--fuck man, I ain't never had anythin' like that happen to me. Not never. Another beer, Micky. Thanks.

She just lays there on top of me for a second, then gets up, real slow, and my eyes have adjusted enough to see in the dark, I can see she's walkin' a little unsteady--but fuck, I can't move. And she sort of stretches--like a cat--and then she flashes this smile at me.

"Thanks, sugah. See ya."

And she just opens the door and fucking leaves--just like that. And I hear her car start and she's gone, and I'm starin' at the ceiling alone in that fucking motel room. I looked at my wrists and she bruised them but good--explainin' that to the wife was not easy, lemme tell you.

Yeah, another beer'd be nice. Thanks. No, I ain't see her since. She disappeared right outta Memphis that same night--and I asked 'round. Well, hell, wouldn't you? She never went back to the bar and fuck if I know where the hell she went.

Why you lookin' at me like that, anyways? You ain't never had a one nighter? Lookin' sorta green there, boy. You goin'? Well, fuck--if you ever see her, tell 'er Terry says hi. Maybe she'll even remember, ya know? You have a nice night. Be seein' ya.