Anonymous: Uncle Roy's secret

Sucking Sadie Mae was only her nickname.

Here is how she got that way:

One day early ay-em Sadie Mae had become a little looped tippling the good stuff while cleaning up some of the artifacts strewn about Uncle Roy's Roadhouse.

The college crowd hung out at that establishment because of its down-home reputation and its being decorated with arrowheads, masks, zany sculptures created out of armadillo, alligator, and peccary hide to provide essential ambience. These artistic creations were to some extent meant to be taken as semblances of the surrounding educational institutions' team mascots.

Word was Sadie Mae in her alcohol delirium revived some of the bombed-out sorority sisters by kissing them.

Down there.

Where their pubic hair entwined so finely about their tasty little twatlips.

Kissed those sisters till they blistered and festered and all the rest.

Then blew some of the big fellows.

The jocks.

Sucked their cocks.

Right there where they had passed out on the floor of Uncle Roy's Roadhouse after a bout with a bit too much grain liquor.

Then the kicker.

Sadie Mae had her way.

Balled them.

All of them.

Boys and girls together.

In front of one another.

Sadie Mae had gotten down.

Gone down.

Pissed them down.

Symbolic and all that.

As the college crowd was wont to impart.

But that was just rumor.

Sadie Mae was not like that at all.

She just had a pair of those Cupid's bow lips that made everybody wish she did with them what they fancied she should.

"Come on, dollbaby," one of the raucous fraternity brothers yakked at Sadie Mae a little after midnight, winking at another dude down the counter from him drinking at the bar.

"You want another one?" Sadie Mae said to the first one.

Knowing he was having a little fun.

"Line them up," he said to Sadie Mae. "But I want you to take it away-I can pay you to do it if you want."

"Wha-?" Sadie Mae said, her hair getting in the way of her forced smile and lightly dancy eyes. "Can't hear you anyway-"

The guitar player wailed in the center of a distorted solo involving quick picking and relentless torquing of guitar strings. The bass picked up its lock-step as the singer took a breather and waltzed up to the bar.

Sadie Mae flashed her ass to the pack of dudes as cymbals crashed from the bandstand. The drummer rumbled in tandem with clinks of beer bottles and longlong drinks.

Tequila voice rasped:

"Whooo-ie! Sadie Mae-don't you let those shorts get in the way."

Macho next to him brayed:

"Maybe they'll fall down today-I can almost see the crack of her ass now-if she doesn't wiggle away too fast-"

A natural-blonde preppy bitch all lily-assed in from the east coast on a cheerleading scholarship could not take her eyes off Sadie Mae's hips. She licked her lips:

"Omigaaaaawd! You boys are so rude," she chewed lewdly through screwed lips. "While you all crawl all over her, I'll watch."

"Come on, Mercedes," Sadie Mae yelped to her. "You already got your twat full with Bubba and Randy there."

"I don't care," Mercedes glared directly at Sadie Mae's two tits. "I might be able to get sooooome-thing out of it."

"Maybe Sadie Mae could," Bubba Buster blew out from between ballooned mouthcheeks, "teach Mercedes to use a few new crinkles."

"Might could," Sadie Mae jabbered. "Which don't necessarily mean I would."

"I might," Randy cawed brightly, "be able to instruct all of you regarding a thing or three. After another bullshot."

He downed a glug of tequila embedded in a short mug of beer.

Leered queerly.

Eyes bleared over.

Yap flapped wide.

Head drifted to the side.

LandedSmack!

— In the center of Mercedes's lap.

"Cut the crap," Mercedes cracked, yanking his head by the hair. "All your frigging slobbering got me wet there."

"Bet it was already," Sadie Mae said steadily so that none of them could tell if she was really joking or if it mattered.

"College brats," Sadie Mae nattered snottily as her barside charges cackled among themselves downing another round.

Sadie Mae hustled her bustle muscling drinks and keeping the college kids entranced with the movement of her pants.

She saw her kind-of-siblings Little Ramona and Sallie Anne dribbling and giggling dancing with a man in a khaki sportjacket with rodeo piping, shiny boots, and string tie whom Sadie Mae had seen prance in with the band.

He was brushed up against their glands. Smooching their hands.

Looked to Sadie Mae as though the dude had some definite plans.

Now Little Ramona-Sadie Mae reflected that-her nickname she had gotten just like that. Cause she was little.

Delicate bone structure.

Slim waist.

Narrow hips.

Tiny tits.

Little bit on the diffident side so at first you might think she had a little mind.

Then she'd blindside you with how smart: a little devil she was.

Which was why Uncle Roy had Little Ramona more or less manage his joint while he was inside. Which brought to Sadie Mae's mind the sobriquet Sallie Anne had claimed for her own.

Called her Fucking Sallie Inside because Sallie Anne ran.a.whorehouse service for the boys incarcerated for the time being down the road along with Uncle Roy.

Sallie Anne enjoyed her work.

She herself did not have to swallow the pork, Sallie Anne rather lined up the assignations, catalogued according to preference, for the lads to dork damsels and uncork cases of Uncle Roy's special brew while allowed out of the big house on weekend passes for good behavior.

In fact, Sallie Anne was like an unofficial parole officer, Sadie Mae thought, shaking her butt while shimmying a jug full of Wildfire Margaritas-so named because they were made with pure tequila- no ice-twist of lime peel only and a bone-sizzling wallop of picante sauce.

"Say, boss," Sadie Mae coughed out. "What was the name of that drink you wanted?"

"I said," the red-faced dude in the crew-necked jersey in the colors of the university with a number stitched on underneath the yoke jawed, "Sadie Mae. I want a blow job."

Sadie Mae filled a narrow glass flute with a mixture of chocolate and coffee cream liqueurs. She added a fillup of whipped cream to the top and reamed her mouthlips slowly.

"Mmmmm," Sadie Mae mewed snidely. "Looks good enough to swallow."

"It's for you," the jock dude in the athletic duds said smugly.

Sadie Mae batted her eyes.

Ran them from side to side underneath the fluttering eyelids.

Peepers wide:

"Why, I can't do that!"

"Come on."

"I might lose my job-"

He flounced his paw out and rubbed his thumb along the pads of his index and middle claws. A dry shuffling sound.

Sadie Mae shot her head around.

Scraped her peepers through the crowd as though staring out loud.

He said again:

"Come on."

Placed a knob of moist currency afloat on the swamplike dregs along the bar counter.

"I guess I could drink some-"

"I'm ready."

Sadie Mae placed her hands behind her back. Slacked her jaw.

Dipped her head.

"All right!"

Embedded her tongue raucously on the creamy tip of the drink.

"Bodacious."

Opened her mouthlips wider and took the rim of the glass inside.

"Outrageous."

Threw back her head.

"Smack those lips, sis."

Tresses rested on her shoulders and strung down her bare back.

"Sssss-uuuiiu-ucker!"

Chugalugged the entire drink into her mug. Glazed her gullet.

Smirked as she let some of the nacreous white liquor-laced syrup drain from the side of her lower mouthlip.

Drip over her chin.