Tales of Bella...

...Bella, opened the screened door to her back porch
looked  out into the early
morn. dressed in a contemplative mood,
thinking about a man.
Not just any man but 'that' man...

in her mind's eye she see him,
his half crooked smile...

The  scent of burbon
emanating from his pores
like it was his natural sweat,
and that damn walk...
that kind of walk that made it seemed
he carried alot of weight,
but  in a most prominent location.

She, most times may have been ladylike,
and  prissy as all southern belles tend to be...
but she did have a fire burning deep inside her
and yeah 'her guy'  had her
attention from  the very start.
   
"Son of bitch!"
she'd cry out to no one in particular
then giggled softly
as  she had always thought of him that way,
although not entirely with disdain...

after all HE was the only man
who'd ever make her get profusely wet
with just  a few words from
a tobbacco stained mouth.

And yes, this was one of those times...

As she looked out into the expanse of her backyard
she knew just one good uninterrupted hour
would feed her hunger for a few days at best.

So his visit was,and always is welcome relief.


Yet, like a  fleeting moment
he was gone
and that left a familiar ache in her loins...



Scrambling quickly back inside,
then back outside onto the porch...
a lemonade in one hand
and 'ole reliable' in the other,
while day drifted into early eve...

She allowed herself to be set free...
free to feel, free to dream,  and free to unleash...  

Hanging onto that nagging thought bout
how this man never fails to 'move' her
and  slightly grinning,
yup what a  "Son of bitch...