Confessions of a Wanton

6 Sunsets, Rambo and AA

🎶 Heathens : Halestorm 🎶

I spent the rest of my day shopping. Damien would be at the station until at least 5. I have no reason to go there, yet. It was boring as fuck going around the inner parts of the city, trying to haggle my way into better deals

I'd stopped by a local car dealership. Looked around and found a very large truck that I fell in love with instantly. She is a Chevy Silverado 1500. She was born in 2007 so she's still young in my eyes. I named her Betsy. And she is now all mine. I think I'll keep her forever.

The dealer was kind enough to lend a hand (with the help of another salesman) sticking my bike in the back of Betsy, adding ratchet straps to keep my black Beast from falling and getting damaged.

"On the house." he'd said winking. He seemed like a nice old man.

I hate getting free stuff. I'd offered to pay but he is the stubborn kind that wouldn't have it. I'd given in, thankful but grumbling.

I got a 'lovely' overstuffed couch, not as good as the one at home but it will do.

It's ugly as sin but so comfortable I couldn't bear to leave it. I paired it with a rug that made my heart drop a little at the price, though the way it felt in my hands had been utter perfection. I couldn't wait to sink my toes into it.

I went to the pet store, grabbing the biggest bone I could find. Then I bought another one. And a beta fish. Not sure what I was thinking right then but the little blue mini koi had called my name and I answered. I have to think of an epic name for him. I got him a tiny tank and everything a little fish could want. Not quite a cat... still a liability if I ever have to leave.

Will I feel bad if the fishy gets left behind? Probably. Will I use it to seem like I'm really making an effort to be comfortable? Fuck yes.

Now, for a little reconnaissance.

I walk into the hardware store looking uncertain. It's an act of course. I know exactly what I need.

Now to see if Damiens bestie could shed some light on things.

I walk over to the paint section, looking at colors to paint my new "bedroom". I won't be sleeping in it. Don't really give a rats ass what it looks like. I might be doing other things in it though so it's gotta be colored... sensually.

I contemplate the colors in front of me, one arm wrapping around my torso under my breasts, the other in front of me, fingers delicately pulling at my lower lip.

Real uncertain-like.

Damsel in distress 101: look like you don't know what you're doing, men will swoop in to save you.

"Can I help you miss?" A deep voice asks behind me.

Bingo!

I turn a little, blushing, as I bite my lip. "Ummm maybe?"

I take in the man standing before me. His name tag says store manager: Roman Brady. He looks like every girls lumberjack fantasy.

Big.

Big blue eyes. Black, but neatly combed and trimmed beard, with a matching head of long ebony hair, pulled into a loose ponytail. Big pink lips. His tongue darted out to wet them as my eyes roamed over his large body. Huge in every way. It stood, straining against his denims, a little to the left.

Geeze, girl. Why'd you even look?

I flush more. For real this time, a bit of heat coursing through me at the thought of what such a man could do to me. I'm not tiny. Though, sometimes it felt nice to be held, knowing that those big hands could be gentle as they caressed every inch of my body. That such a big scary looking man could screw you and make love at the same time.