Summer in Death Valley Part 2

Indeed! Violet Blue, the nastiest stripper this side of the Rio Grande. The things she could do! The things she would do in front of a pack of hungry wolves.

Violet Blue had a body that any man in his right mind, would give his left nut to be with for half an hour. Her face was that of an angel. She had a look of pure innocence, that could make any man love her as he would love his own daughter. But it was also a look, that made men want to educate her to their own view of the world, if you know what I mean. Her hair was as blond and as luscious as that of a high school cheerleader. Her tits were said to be by many who would know, the finest they had ever seen. One might argue that there are a million blond chicks out there, who are built like a brick shithouse. But Violet Blue's most lethal weapon was her smile. It was a smile that conveyed her complete understanding of what you, as a red-blooded male from Oklahoma, were thinking in your narrow and depraved little mind. And that she liked what you were thinking.

When a red-blooded male looked into her eyes, he had two compulsions. The first was to take her and have her, plain and simple. His second compulsion was to save her. To save her from the hell hole of The Brass Rail Tavern and the wasteland they knew as Oklahoma. To save her from the ravenous predators with stiff cocks that hungered for her night after night. How could something so exquisitely created by the hand of God, be destined to such a life? And Violet Blue let them believe that they could do the right thing for once in their life; save the most precious thing that they had ever seen.

Violet Blue would then proceed to savage them. And when she was done, they would be left with nothing. No wife. No children. No money. And no soul. That is why she was the best. She was like crack. Countless lives have been lost into this abyss of dark dreams. She exposed men for the desperate creatures that they really were: dogs that would hump a mayonnaise jar full of liver, given half a chance.

She reigned over an impressive empire. Her sphere of influence stretched from Texas to Oklahoma to New Mexico. She was the Cleopatra of the Southwest who extracted tribute from her many subjects.

Just as you might guess that red-blooded, pick-up drivin', Oklahoma cowboys liked their steaks bloody, then it wouldn't surprise you that Jake wasn't adverse to checking out the scenery at the Brass Rail Tavern. Sure the Rail might have charged twice as much for an ice cold Bud, but legend had it, the Rail also had the hottest, blondest, and most supremely titted dancers in the whole of the Southwest! And the Rail was where Violet Blue held court.

But Jake didn't go to the Rail looking for love. Or even a warm body. Not even if it was Violet Blue. Sure Jake had heard of Violet Blue's exploits, but what man in the Southwestern United States hadn't? If you hadn't, you were either a fudge-packer or a corpse. Jake wasn't interested in anything more than just looking at the merchandise. It wasn't because he was a whole lot smarter than the rest of the local redneck population but rather, Jake had learned from past mistakes. Getting involved with strippers was a hard lesson that Jake had learned well.

From his experience, Jake did not find strippers to be any more neurotic, mentally unstable, or worse drivers than the rest of the female population. But let's just say a pretty face and a pair of tits that could kill, just don't come for free. The price isn't necessarily monetary. But it was a price nonetheless. And for Jake, that price was just too high. Even if her name was Violet Blue and she could do all those things that they said she could.

But something did happen!! Did he fall for Violet Blue? Did she capture him as she captured every other man who laid eyes on her? We may never know the truth. So let's just call it a freak accident. Or temporary insanity. Blame it on the alcohol. But really, did any man ever have a chance against Violet Blue? Some would say resistance is futile. So what really happened? Good question.

The early morning sun in Oklahoma was not kindhearted. As it rose, it concentrated its light and heat and power to engulf the world in a sea of fire. A man passed out in the cab of his Hemi will feel its wrath, as Jake was. When the heat woke Jake, he felt as if a hole had been burned through the centre of his forehead. He immediately recognized the symptoms of a hard night out. His throat was parched and spit was hard to come by. He felt like he was suffocating for the stale air in his truck was being gently heated by the sun. His tongue was covered in a layer of something furry. The smell of sweat and body odor was palpable.

Despite his condition, Jake noticed the beautiful but utterly alien surroundings in which he had found himself. His brain was incapacitated so he all he could do was stare. The early sun dominated the sky, giving it an orange hue. The terrain was brilliant green. His truck was a man-made blight in this scene. Jake had a growing feeling he was parked in the middle of a cornfield!

"In Oklahoma City?", he had to ask. This didn't look like Oklahoma City. Just outside of his immediate view stood the weathered, wooden farmhouse, where he had brought the stripper Violet Blue the night before!

"Did I sleep with her?" he had to ask himself.



(Part 3 has been posted.)