Who's This?

*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

*****

"My car's making a funny sound," Myra announced as she came into the small bungalow.

"Funny ha-ha or funny strange?" Donny asked, looking up from the evening news. "Come on, come on, get to the Sports, huh?"

"What?" Myra asked, pushing her long red hair out of her eyes.

"You said it's making a funny sound," Donny said. "And I asked..."

"Oh, you such a comedian," she snapped.

"I'll get to it in just a minute," he promised just as Arnie Brodt began talking about the upcoming football game between the St. Louis Rams and the Minnesota Vikings.

Arnie was a lot more optimistic about the Rams' chances than Donny was. And Arnie's utter disdain for the Chicago Bears came through loud and clear as he talked about their upcoming game against the Dallas Cowboys.

"No one likes the Cowboys, Arnie," Donny said to the television and got to his feet.

"How's breakfast for dinner sound?" Myra asked as she scrounged around in the pantry.

Donny found the source of the funny sound and made the adjustments. He drove the car around the block to make sure he'd eliminated any errant noises, then returned home. He parked Myra's car in the garage and lowered the garage door.

"He's coming back in; I'll talk to you later," Donny heard Myra say as he entered the kitchen from the garage.

He thought to himself, "Should have gone into acting instead of diesel mechanics," as he was able to sit through their dinner and not ask about her phone call.

They'd met at Ice Castles, a nightclub. Donny was Lindsey's date for the evening; his sister had just turned twenty five and wanted to go dancing.

Myra was with a Bachelorette party; her sister Belle was getting married. The Bachelorette party was hard to miss; they were drunk and loud. But because they were having a good time and weren't being rowdy, Chet, the manager, left them alone.

The band was a decent band; they'd never win any recording contracts. But they kept the music flowing and kept the feet moving.

"That red head hasn't taken her eyes off of you since we got here," Lindsey laughed as Donny guided her through a lively two step.

"The one in the blue outfit?" Donny asked as he twirled his sister around.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, that's her," Lindsey said. "So go ask her to dance, huh?"

"Let me get a beer first, huh?" Donny replied.

The song ended and Donny got Lindsey her Harvey Wallbanger and his own beer and whiskey caser. Downing the liquid courage and giving a nervous smile to his sister, Donny walked over to where the eight or nine girls were whooping and screaming.

"Hi. None of my pick-up lines have ever worked so I'm not going to even try any of them on you," Donny said to the now hotly blushing red head. "But, you want to dance?"

"You, uh, your girlfriend won't mind?" Myra asked, glancing over at the now widely grinning Lindsey.

"Girl I been dancing with? She's my sister," Donny smiled.

He kept her out on the floor until the band announced a ten minute break. The Bachelorette party quickly grabbed a chair for him to join them, and then grabbed another chair for Lindsey.

Donny didn't know where Belle and the rest of the girls went, but Myra left with him and Lindsey. They dropped Lindsey off at her condominium, then drove to Donny's bungalow.

They entered the house through the garage, into the kitchen and Donny grabbed Myra, put her on the table, and pulled her jeans and panties off. He then sat in his chair and licked and sucked on her pussy until she had a screaming orgasm.

Then he carried her, over his shoulder like a fireman, and threw her onto his bed.

Her top and silky bra wound up on the floor and Donny slid himself into her wet pussy in one smooth stroke.

She came twice before he pumped his semen into her, then he rolled over onto his back, pulling her with him. His cock remained inside of her and soon she was riding him to two more orgasms before he shot into her again.

"So, how often you go to Ice Castles?" she asked as they lay in his bed, entwined.

"As little as possible," Donny admitted, playing with her small buttocks. "But, remember? Tonight was Lindsey's birthday, so that's where she wanted to go."

"Quit!" Myra laughed, pushing his hand away from her small backside. "Leave my butt alone."

"Oh, I was looking for it; where was it?" Donny teased and she squealed and slapped his chest.

"So where do you go?" Myra asked after he silenced her protests with hot kisses

"Have a beer with my buddies?" Donny replied. "We usually go to Rooster Pull."

"Ew, a strip club?" Myra screeched.

"And they got six fifty inch screens showing what's on," Donny said.

"What's on?" Myra asked. "You can't just turn and see?"

"No, no, not what's on the stage, what's on ESPN, or NFL Network. And since I'm a card-carrying member, I can go there and watch the football games on Sundays, even though they're supposed to be closed," Donny laughed.

They kissed some more, then Donny made love to her again and they fell asleep.

He woke her up at six o'clock and found out, Myra Eggleman was not a morning person, not after just three and a half hours of sleep. She had not improved much, even after a mushroom and cheese omelet and two cups of coffee.

Then he drove her home.

Myra had expected Donny Owens to be impressed with the Eggleman home; most of her friends and most of her former boyfriends had been.

But if Donny was impressed by the three story chocolate brown brick building, the circular drive, the neatly manicured lawn, he did not show it. He just asked her if she was busy Friday night.

Myra coyly suggested that she might be and again Donny wasn't impressed. He just replied that was fine and he'd see her around.

Then he drove away, leaving her on the steps to her home, looking astonished. After she couldn't see his taillights any longer, she stomped up the steps and entered the house.

"God damn, really?" Belle whispered to Myra. "Run off with some guy you just met?"

They were seated in the dining area of the East Acres Country Club. Thomas and Linda Eggleman were 'making the rounds,' talking to other members, leaving the two sisters alone as they waited for their lunch order to arrive.

"Oh shut up, Belle," Myra snapped. "How many times have I had to cover for you?"

"Nine, but who's counting?" Belle smiled smugly. "But a mechanic? Really?"

"I lost count of my orgasms," Myra spat. "A cock like that? Who cares what he does for a living?"

"You will when you can't go to Paris next year," Belle said and sat up a little straighter; their parents were returning to the table.

"Oh whatever, Belle," Myra snapped. "We went one time; don't act like we go there all the time."

"And if I want to go there every month, Michael can afford it," Belle sniped.

"The food still hasn't arrived?" Linda sniffed.

"Yes Mom, but Belle and me? We got so hungry waiting on you we went ahead and ate it," Myra shook her head.

"So, who's pickup truck was that dropping you off this morning," Thomas asked, peering at Myra with his one good eye.

"Donny; he's Lindsey's brother," Myra said, acting nonchalant.

"A truck?" Linda asked, sniffing in disapproval.

"Yeah, well, spent the night at Lindsey's; he offered to drop me off on the way to work," Myra said and sighed in relief when their lunch arrived, along with Linda's third gin gimlet and Thomas's third whiskey sour.

"Uh huh," Thomas said, not fooled.

Myra called Donny that evening and he was friendly, seemed genuinely happy to hear from her.

"So, I uh, I'm not doing anything this Friday," Myra said with a lilt in her voice. "So, what'd you have in mind?"

"Huh? Oh, well, when you said you already had plans, I went ahead and made my own," Donny said. "But, maybe some other time, huh?"

"What?" Myra snapped. "Going down to Rooster Pull? Looking at them skanks?"

"No, probably go to House Of Mei, then catch a movie," Donny said. "But, great to hear from you; don't be a stranger, all right?"

She squealed in indignation when he ended the call.

So, Myra learned that the games that worked on her other suitors did not work on Donny. The next time he called her and asked her if she had any plans, she quickly said 'No' and agreed to see him.

House Of Mei was a Korean restaurant in a section of Colfax that Myra never ventured to. They served a cuisine she had never tried and she quickly fell in love with the dishes Donny ordered for them, even if she could not pronounce any of the names of the foods.

"And what was that, that, whatever that was, in the vegetables?" she asked as he drove them to their next destination.

"Sure you really want to know?" he teased.

"As long as it wasn't dog," she responded.

"Eel," he said and she turned slightly green.

Their next destination was an indoor archery range. Archery was something Myra had never attempted and she thoroughly enjoyed having the tall, muscular Donny standing behind her, pressed into her, showing her how to notch the arrow, how to draw back the bow.

She was five foot six, on the slender side, with pale skin and a multitude of freckles. Her breasts were barely a handful, and her buttocks weren't much bigger. When worn loose, her orange red hair hung down to just above her small backside.

(Most of her suitors had been more interested in Myra's parents' money than in Myra.)

Donny was six foot two, with a square face, bronzed by many hours in the sun, brown eyes in a permanent squint. His face was a strong face and his body was a strong body.

And after they finished shooting two quivers of arrows, they went back to Donny's home and made love again.

"Now, come on," Donny said. "Got a Mack semi torn apart and he's got to make a six A.M. run."

"I can't stay the night?" Myra whined.

"Just told you," Donny said. "I got a Mack torn apart and the man needs it like yesterday."

Myra was home, in bed, staring angrily at the ceiling when the realization hit her. Donny had been too busy to see her, but he had rearranged his schedule to spend a few hours with her.

Myra drifted to sleep, smiling.

A week later, Donny frowned when he received an invitation to the wedding of Michael Townsend and Belle Eggleman. With a sigh, he called Lindsey, who was only too happy to accompany her brother to the mall to help him find a suit.

Donny and Lindsey were all they had in the world. Mr. and Mrs. Owens had been among the one hundred and five passengers and seven crew members that had died when Flight Two Six Three had developed problems with their landing gear and slammed into the ground, exploding on impact.

Their older brother, Darrel Owens had died when his F16 flipped during a training exercise and slammed into the ground, killing both Darrel and the co-pilot on impact.

So, brother and sister were close. And brother and sister were also quite leery of airplane travel.

"Oh, Donny, this, this is the one," Lindsey declared as she pulled out a dark charcoal gray suit.

"Oh, quite nice; listen to your wife," the salesman agreed.

"She's not my wife," Donny smiled.

"If we were married, I'd ask for a divorce," Lindsey agreed.

"Oh, brother and sister," the man smiled.

They selected a crisp white shirt and a blood red tie to go with it.

Then Donny found out, not only was he expected to accompany Myra to the wedding, he was also her date for the Rehearsal and the dinner to follow.

"And how do I dress for that?" he asked Myra as she wiggled on his cock.

"Suit and tie, of course," she said and sighed when she had all of him inside of her. "And quit playing with my butt! You're not sticking anything up there, hear?"

After the sex, Donny proudly showed Myra the suit.

"Oh, that is nice," she agreed. "And what are you wearing to the wedding?"

So brother and sister went back to the store and bought Donny a dark blue suit, light blue shirt and slate blue tie with dark blue dots. This increased Donny's suit collection to two. The suit he'd worn for his parent's funeral and his brother's funeral had long since been outgrown.

At the rehearsal, Donny met Michael Townsend, Belle's fiancé. And Donny did not like Michael Townsend. The man was a sleazy, slimy sociopath.

"Michael Townsend," the man smugly said and tried to break Donny's hand with a hard grip. "No, no relation to Pete."

"What?" Donny said, smirking at the discomfort on Michael's face as he returned the fierce grip.

"Pete," Michael said and almost gasped in relief when Donny released his grip. "Pete Townsend? The guitar player for The..."

"I know who Pete Townsend is," Donny said. "But why would I think you're related to him?"

"Because my last name is..." Michael said, clearly disgruntled that Donny wasn't amused or impressed by Michael's witticism.

"And my last name's Owens, no, no relation to Jesse, or to Owens Corning, or any other number of famous Owens," Donny said and walked away from the now glaring Michael.

Thomas and Linda Eggleman were also less than impressed that their older daughter was dating a diesel mechanic.

"But, darling, what ever happened to that Freddy Kahlick?" Linda asked Myra, right in front of Donny.

"Uh, dumped me when I refused to loan him fifty thousand dollars," Myra reminded her mother.

"So, Donny, what kind of portfolio do you have?" Michael asked, smirking to Thomas and Linda.

"Right now? Mostly metals," Donny replied. "I do have some oil as well; was big in Technology and Pharmaceuticals, but got out of those before Obama-Care came in, and before Congress passed all those regulations."

"You don't really, huh?" Myra asked as the pastor called for the wedding party to gather.

"I just said I did; why would I lie about that?" Donny asked.

The wedding, held on the following Saturday, was a large, overbearing, pretentious wedding. As the escort for the Maid of Honor, though, Donny did smile for the photographer. He did congratulate both bride and groom as well.

Neither bride nor groom knew it was no compliment when Donny told them that they deserved each other.

Shortly after the bride and groom returned from their two week honeymoon in Barbados, Donny and Myra rode in Thomas and Linda's Mercedes-Benz to Chicago, to see the home that Belle and Michael lived in and to see the photographs of the couple's honeymoon.

With obvious pride, Michael gave the four guests the grand tour. He was genuinely pleased when Donny showed a real interest in his home office and the cork paneling that covered the wall behind his desk.

"Ten foot ceiling, right? Donny asked, looking around. And, what? Twelve by sixteen in here?"

"Good eye," Michael agreed.

"So, not to be crude, but how much did that cost?" Donny asked, pointing to the wall. "Ten by sixteen?"

"It was thirty two hundred," Michael bragged.

"Warranty?" Donny asked.

"What? Warranty?" Michael asked, sneering.

"Because it's starting to peel right there," Donny pointed out, then walked out of the room.

The rest of the viewing was much less enthusiastic and Myra dug her fingernails into Donny's arm.

Belle returned with Chinese take-out and Donny ate, forcing an enthusiasm for the barely warm food.

Then they looked at the photographs of the trip.

Even though Michael feigned embarrassment, Donny could tell it was no accident that three photographs of a topless Belle were slipped into the stack of photographs.

"Michael!" Belle squealed. "I told you, no pictures!"

"There was a topless beach," she explained to the gathering. "And you know what they say, 'When in Rome...'"

"Oh, wouldn't you love to go there?" Myra asked Donny, holding out a photograph of the beach.

"Not really a fan of the beach," Donny admitted.

That simple statement earned Donny glares from the quintet seated around the coffee table.

When it came too late for any more photographs or tales from Michael and Belle, they were shown to their bedrooms.

"No sir," Thomas insisted forcefully when Belle showed Myra the room she and Donny would be sharing. "You two are not married."

"He's right," Donny said amicably. "I can take the couch in Michael's office up here, or the couch in the living room. You tell me."

Michael still smarted over Donny's pointing out there was a flaw in his beautiful office so Donny was shown to the living room.

In the morning, Belle and Linda made sure to make as much noise as possible as they prepared breakfast. Donny took it in stride, rose from the couch, and folded blanket and the flat sheet Belle had covered the couch with.

"Oh, don't bother doing that," Belle said. "We'll be washing those."

"Oh, of course," Donny said, went into the bathroom and shaved and showered.

The others did not wait for Donny to finish his shower; they ate the breakfast.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Belle said in a tone of voice that let Donny know she was not sorry. "I'll make you..."

"Oh, no, don't bother," Donny said. "I certainly wouldn't want to put you out."

That was the one and only time Donny visited the Townsends in Chicago. But upon arriving home, he did contact the Paneling Warehouse in Colfax, Missouri and ask about cork paneling.

Finding their price to be ridiculous, Donny went to a school supply wholesaler and bought sixty three by five corkboards and four dollars apiece.

Then he broke the frames and peeled the cork off of the cardboard backing. He used the cork to panel three walls in his twelve by twelve bedroom. The forth wall he painted with a glossy white enamel.

Myra often visited her sister in Chicago. Sometimes she went with her parents, sometimes with just her mother, and every now and then she'd go by herself. Donny would always tell her to have a good time, but often used work as an excuse to not accompany her.

The few times Michael and Belle would grace Colfax, Missouri with their presence, Donny would meet then at the Eggleman house, or at some fancy restaurant, or at East Acres Country Club. He was always polite to Thomas and Linda, Belle and Michael. When asked, he would join in their conversations, but for the most part he remained silent, letting the others dominate the conversation.

"Why are you so unfriendly?' Myra accused as they returned from a dinner at East Acres Country Club.

"What do you mean?" Donny sighed.

It had been an excruciating evening, listening to Michael and Thomas pontificate over politics, the market, and a myriad of other boring topics.

The one time Michael had deigned to include Donny in the conversation, Donny had angered Michael.

"So, Donny, do you follow the market? Or do you just have a mutual fund?" Michael had sneered.

"Oh, I do follow the A Mess and the Nab Sack," Donny said. "Like I told you, I mostly dabble in metals; I dropped my oil though."

"Nazz Dack," Michael spat. It's the NASDAQ. And it's AMEX, not A Mess."

"If you say so," Donny had smiled, enjoying getting under the narcissistic man's skin. "Right now, I've been concentrating on the Asian market; it's thriving at an unprecedented rate, wouldn't you say?"

But on the ride home, Myra let Donny know she had considered his behavior to be rude.

"Whatever Myra," Donny said and put on his blinker.

"Wait, where are you going?" Myra asked as Donny pulled off the freeway.

"Taking you to your parents' house," Donny said.

"Wait, why? I thought we'd..." Myra sputtered.

"No, I'm rude," Donny said. "I'm rude and unfriendly."

He pulled up in front of her parents' large house.

"And I got to be at the shop at four thirty," he said. "So, good night."

"Fine, ass hole," she shrieked and flounced out of the truck.

For the most part, Myra lived with Donny. More than half of his bedroom closet and the entire closet in the second bedroom was crammed full of her clothing, his bathroom counter was covered by her creams, lotions, perfumes and cosmetics. Three drawers in his chest of drawers held her jeans, her lingerie, and other items.