Democrat Daisy

CHAPTER 1

Buddy Baldwin was driving his old red Chevy that had more dents than a tin kettle and knowing he should be holed up writing his next book. But it was late spring with a feeling of hope in the air. He was fascinated driving through this largely undeveloped neck of the woods, although there were few trees about in an area where stones and most small ravines outnumber roaming cattle.

When he came to some woods he stopped, thinking well he could justify this walk between the trees thinking it was essential story-line research with potential for a plot capable of being developed to materialize. Ah yes, he was glad he had entered the woods because through the trees he glimpsed a lake.

Well that was promise of plot. He could reach the lake edge just in time to rescue a princess.

Yeah.

Had he been smoking a reefer?

Oh no not Buddy Baldwin.

Reaching the lakeside clearing, he saw a boatshed, with the doors hanging partly open on rusted hinges. The faded sign nailed to the structure stated:

'Canoes for Hire During Summer. $2:00/hr. Refundable Deposit $50:00 if Craft Returned in Good Order or Even If Craft Returned.'

Buddy grinned. What great rural backwater marketing... practical, simplistic and with a touch of humor.

He sensed a storyline was emerging.

He look across the lake and squinted.

Jesus it couldn't be. Yes it was.

A woman lay on her back in long grass holding up a book and reading.

She was nude.

Yeah the squinting had up-powered his vision by enlarging his pupils. He could see a hairy V and her tits were flopped one to each side.

Excitedly he went through the side entrance of the boatshed and emerged carrying a canoe that he placed in the water, checking that the woman was still in repose. He had second-thoughts about pushing off just then. He hurried back into the boatshed to fetch a paddle.

Minutes later Buddy stood uncertainly on the bank.

"Hi."

He almost fell backwards off the bank when she said mildly, "Fuck off you pervert and leave me in peace."

Buddy waited several seconds for his brain to engage. The sky was blue, the breeze was negligible and the sun was warm on his back.

"Could you spare me a coffee?" he asked, noticing the hamper. "I can pay."

"Of course and I apologize for being disagreeably inhospitable. Come forward if you don't mind me dressed in my birthday suit.

He hee-hawed and that made her laugh.

Buddy approached. She stood and turned and bent over the hamper.

She could be approaching forty and had a stomach roll and her sizeable tits drooped a bit and that sight left him practically panting. She really bent over with her legs apart and he got and eyeful of the inner-pink of her pussy squeezing open amid the hairy thicket.

Buddy's dingle-dangle began stiffening and his breathing adopted a rasp.

She straightened holding a cup and insulated flask and said whimsically, "Is there anything else you would like?"

He looked at her tits and licked his lips.

"Unfortunately I'm married."

Buddy, he cautioned himself. Steady she might be the district's hooker.

"This is meant to happen," he said, almost believing that stupid utterance.

"Oooh," she purred.

Oooh? That meant she was sexually switched on.

Buddy began to panic. Omigod this promising potential storyline was beginning to race away on him.

She expected to be fucked. Here he was in a near-desolate corner of a State in the Midwest he'd never been in before with a woman he'd never seen before and he'd intending only to flirt with her. And yet she was lining him up to give her a gallop around the pasture or whatever they called vigorous sexual coupling out here.

He slipped into reversal mode.

"I'm sorry but I regret to say..."

"Relax, it's okay. You are neatly dressed and look well-shaven and washed and so I won't require you to roll on a condom."

Buddy, despite being thirty-four and living independently for nine years, had a great desire to yell "Mom". He couldn't think of anything else to do.

The woman dropped the mug and the flask and grabbed him and fell to the ground, dragging him down beside her. Somehow she'd managed to unzip him and had his dick in her hand by the time they landed heavily. She was speedy.

"Go on, pick up a tit and suck it," she urged.

She caressed his dick and said, "Oh my goodness, my dad is the only guy I've had whose bigger than this."

Did she really mean her father?

Buddy was horrified but then conceded incest was now commonplace and even prim women bored as stiff as a plank who once wrote about soft sweet kisses in their pulp romance output, these days spiced up their convoluted plots with families having sex instead of strolling through the garden to admire the roses while awaiting the arrival of the hero.

God she was now steering his erection into her er love box. But this was not love. It was... well it was... oh yes, it was bucolic pastoral rapture.

She squealed like a muted foghorn into her climax, trigging him to flood her.

Very nice.

His stalled draft novel now had its opening chapter framed.

Buddy was almost back to the canoe when he turned. She was on her back reading and presumably leaking.

"What's your name lovely lady? I'm Buddy Baldwin."

"Oh Buddy Baldwin the author? I'm Carla... Carla Croft, wife of Deputy Sheriff Wayne Croft."

Oh shit.

Buddy paddled furiously across the lake, threw the canoe into the boatshed, left two bucks on the table and was off. Only when driving away, feeling well fucked and happy, did he register she'd asked was he Buddy Baldwin the author.

Oh shit.

Her incensed husband would hunt him down once she began telling everyone excitedly she'd been practically pulverized on the pasture by Buddy Baldwin.

Oh shit.

Buddy calmed himself by relighting the butt of a cigarette someone had given him at a recent party.

He floored the gas pedal and the old girl wheezed into something close approaching speed. Buddy grinned thinking he would be 120 miles away well inside two hours providing there was enough gas in the tank. The gauge wasn't working.

The old girl sped past a half hidden cop car and the still-flushed author thought a lazy country cop having a sleep. He changed that opinion when hearing the siren and looking in the mirror saw flashing lights.

"Oh shit."

The cop hitched up his belt as Buddy rolled down the window.

"Were you speeding?"

"What in this old heap... are you stupid?"

The cop grinned and yeah, well his wife often made that assertion.

Wife?

Buddy's heart practically seized.

"Well I must be on my way officer... officer...?

"Deputy Sheriff Croft."

A triumphant surge flowed through Buddy, unlocking his heart from imminent seizure. The plot was now coming into place. He'd just met the villain... or was Deputy Sheriff Croft the hero who snuffed out the adulterous author?

"I clocked you on radar doing almost 63 mph close to entering the town limit of Here-Comes. Keep your speed down pal and my jail will remain empty."

"Yes officer. I hear what you say officer. Bye officer."

"Wait!"

Buddy froze.

"That suspicious butt you were smoking when I stopped you is burning a hole in the passenger seat."

"Oh it wasn't mine officer. I picked up a bearded hitchhiker with tats and dropped him off by those woods two miles back. He called himself Black Jake but I reckon that's a pseudonym."

"Jesus thanks pal."

Buddy drove off and in the mirror watched the smoking tires of the deputy's car complete a wheelie as he tore off in futile pursuit of a fictitious gangster or drug courier. He finished off the butt, too happy to be bothered about the new hole in the upholstery.

He couldn't believe the cop had called the town Here-Comes. Lots of assholes had named original European settlements in America stupidly but no one would be that stupid to name a place Here-Comes, not even a Continental immigrant who played a violin and called his wife Hey You.

The town sign he approached clearly stated, 'Here-Comes Pop. 931'.

Jesus.

The place looked a real hole that even the real plagues of today's society, teenagers, Republicans and hookers, wouldn't inhabit such a place.

He stepped on the gas to flee and the motor began coughing.

Oh shit.

Buddy pulled over and a teenage Democrat with her skirt almost waist-high and the scoop in her top almost at waist low drawled, "You're out of gas pal."

"Yeah well long live the republic."

"Asshole," she spat and then laughed, "The gas pumps don't operate at weekends. I can get you a free bed but the extras will cost you."

"Beat it or I'll call a cop alleging you are soliciting."

She grinned and said asshole, the only cop stationed there was Deputy Sheriff Croft and he was her dad.

Buddy sighed and decided he'd not work that juicy detail into the new novel because even in novels assertions had to be believable.

Two motels faced each other across Main Street. He chose the smarter looking one but when about to enter noticed the sign, Proprietor's Jay and Jill Croft.

He turned abruptly and crossing the street checked the sign, Proprietors Peter and Penny Nixon.

Ah good Republican surname.

Buddy signed in and the homely looking woman who looked vaguely familiar to him asked, "Stranger in town?"

He replied, "Oh so you're a recent arrival?"

She laughed and said no silly she meant him.

"Oh yes, I've just arrived. My car is running out of gas and the pumps are closed."

"Oh dear I'll get Peter to give you half a gallon to get your car over into our parking lot and to get to a gas station on Mondays. Mayor Croft decreed, when first elected 15 years ago, all gas stations must remain closed during weekends. He's a Democrat but with fucking Socialist leanings."

"Um is the Deputy Sheriff related to them?"

Being handed the key to his room, Buddy heard her say, "Yes and he's the nicest of the Crofts."

"Yeah I met him at the entrance to the town. He chatted to me about speeding and let me off with warning."

"Yes and Wayne is criticized for his leniency but only to nice people. Local criminals are scared of him. I must tell him you are here and he might have a beer with you. He's married to our daughter Carla."

Buddy had to fight to avoid confessing to Mrs Nixon only an hour ago he had been fucking her daughter.

"Oh Mr Baldwin, will you be in for dinner tonight?"

He said he hadn't decided.

"The alternatives are to eat across the road at our competitors or the Chinese, Hungarian and Irish restaurants or a take-out place that offers only lamb burgers."

"I've decided to eat here thank you Mrs Nixon."

"Oh please call me Penny."

"Thanks Penny. I'm Buddy."

"Omigod are you the author of 'Trashy Romance', 'Supermarket Aisle Flasher' and 'Sated in the Trailer Park'?"

"Yes but my best-seller is 'Republican Ruby'.

"I wouldn't know about that Buddy," she said stiffly. 'This is a Democrat town."

The boom of a brain explosion hit Buddy. He'd landed in the setting for the sequel to 'Republican Ruby'.

* * *

Buddy heard the dinner bell ring and went down after finishing his third rum and coke.

The dining room was full.

The bejeweled Penny, in long black, hurried over to him and kissed him and clapped her hands, "Listen up everyone. Tonight we are joined by the celebrate trash romance author Buddy Baldwin.

Buddy could have cheerfully kicked her butt for slandering him like that but then to his amazement he received a standing ovation. Many of the people would be locals and Democrats. This was weird.

Everyone then sat and ignored him.

That was better. He wondered why all the fuss; was Penny pitching to become the next mayor?

"Buddy you are sitting at our table tonight," Penny said, taking his arm.

People at the table stood.

"Buddy this is my husband Peter."

"Yeah we met when he arrived with the half gallon of gas. It's a full house tonight Peter."

"Yeah Penny called in all favors to ensure we were full tonight in case you work our motel into your new book. She tells are you have come here to reside while you write it, I mean in the town and not necessarily at our motel."

"Oh yeah," thought Buddy. Well that was news to him.

"Buddy this is our daughter Carla."

Carla looked virginal in long white and black rabbit earrings. She held out a long arm and Buddy kissed her hand and honestly thought her heard her groan and say she had cum. Surely not?

"Carla!" snapped her mother and pulled Buddy away.

"You know my son-in-law."

"Yeah hi Wayne," Buddy said, as they shook hands. "Any luck?"

"Yeah pal, great success. I found the hitchhiker but she was female, without a beard but with tats. She had an unlicensed handgun and with about 300 grams of what appears to be cocaine in her handbag plus some suspected stolen jewelry. We are very pleased you are staying in this town to write your next novel. It's a great honor for us."

He'd said a great honor for us with great patriotism. Buddy felt the great desire to stay and honor the people. He decided to call the new novel 'Democrat Daisy' as a sister publication to his best seller. He'd write a proposal in the morning and email it to his publisher.

At 2 am Buddy heard someone knocking at his door. He grinned thinking Carla was taking a risk. He swung back the safety lock, opened the door and was disappointed.

"Yes?" he said to Penny, Carla's mother.

"Let me in before I'm seen."

"You're too old. Send me your daughter. Now fuck off."

She let loose obscenities that embarrassed Buddy.

Half an hour later she awoke him again with her knocking. He went to the door thinking he'd tie her flaccid tits into a knot and that would turn her off him.

He opened the door and reached out and grabbed a very firm tit.

"God mom didn't tell me you were that randy," said the woman of about thirty.

He pulled her into the room and shut the door, panting.

"Hi Buddy. I'm Peter and Penny's youngest child Rose Kelly. I think I got away from home without awaking my husband. He was playing cards and came home an hour ago boozed."

"Show me what you've got," Buddy said hoarsely.

"Goodness, you are a demanding prick," she giggled.

He sat on the bed and she performed credibly, staring at Buddy who was sitting on the bed jerking. Rose had red hair, yes including down there, and her body had a pinkish tinge. But it was well formed and looked firm and the thighs were slender and as she finished undressing she stuck in a finger and gave it to him to suck.

He was so aroused that the gesture almost sent him through the ceiling. But the tangy taste ended that hallucinatory sensation of floating.

Rose fell on top of him and kissed him with an open mouth that oozed saliva.

Buddy pushed in fingers and she oozed on to them as well.

Oh this babe was so exciting.

He ejaculated.

Damn.

She rolled off him and wiped their bellies on a sheet.

"Can you go again?"

"Of course."

She looked happy and lifted a leg and he pushed in to a very warm and slippery pussy.

"You are so big," she cooed.

"And so are you."

She chirped, "You asshole."

She jumped as he introduced a finger to her anus and she climaxed.

"Oh dear," she moaned.

"Can you come again?"

"Yes, as many times as necessary."

He grinned and slowed the pace to settle in for a three-hour fuck.

This town had to be one of the best communities on the planet.

* * *

Next morning local librarian Mrs Chadwick introduced herself and said she was Penny Nixon's mother-in-law. She offered Buddy her cottage overlooking the lake to hole up in while he completed his draft novel.

The idea appealed to Bubby. His publisher's commissioning editor had emailed Buddy ten minutes after he sent his proposal advising she'd accepted it and an advance payment check for $15,000 was on the way to his bank account.

The one bedroom cottage was fine and when they stood at the window looking across the lake at the boatshed, Mrs Chadwick said, "It is a tradition among some women in this community to lie on that pasture without clothes and read. I hope that won't distract you unduly?"

"No Mrs Chadwick. It would be an inspirational distraction."

"Please call me Irene. Coffee?"

"Yes please."

"Um my granddaughter Clarita Young could come and clean here once a week for payment. She'd twenty-four and hasn't been able to find work since graduating with a Masters of Science."

"Oh that's a shame. Yes I would employ her."

"Her mother and I would be a little fearful if you were here when she cleaned."

"Oh would you worry about the risk of me being predatory?"

"Yes exactly."

"Would I be safe from her expectations of having anal sex with me?"

"Yes of course."

"Then you and your daughter have nothing to fear."

Irene said that was reassuring and she'd arrange a meeting.

Buddy met grandmother, daughter and granddaughter for light lunch at the town's Arts Center that housed the library, museum and art gallery and was open from 11:00 to 3:00 daily. Unlike the grandmother, the daughter Meredith Young was attractive and her daughter was screaming to be ravished... er she was quite beautiful.

"So you don't mind a menial job of cleaning a cottage Clarita?"

"No I clean at home because mom is CEO for the district council and has a busy social life."

"Why haven't you managed to find work?"

"My degree is in renewable energy and no openings exist for that work in this state. I will have to go elsewhere."

"Yes the backwoods are not the place to try to practice green science."

Clarita grinned and the other two glared at Buddy.

"Do you have a laptop?"

"Yes."

"And you are used to reading long periods on a screen?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm prepared to offer you a combined home servicing/editing job Mondays 10:00 to 4:00 and Saturdays 9:00 to noon. I'd expect you to clean, make my bed, do the dishes and prepare our lunch and clean up and prepare my evening meal. When clear of those duties you perform preliminary editing of my output."

"You mean act like a housewife?"

Looking boldly at the mother and grandmother, Buddy said, "Yeah but without the sex unless you seek it."

Clarita said, "Mom?"

"Complete negotiations before I voice my opinion."

"How much?"

"Five-fifty."

"I'd like more."

"I bet you would but my first and final offer is five-fifty and no charge for food or coffee."

"So will I be expected to wash your clothes?"

"No."

"And you'll not demand sex?"

"Correct."

"And cash in the hand?"

Buddy nodded.

"Okay then."

Clarita said, "Mom and grandma?"

They both said the offer appeared very satisfactory.

Clarita offered her hand and shook on the deal.

Buddy said, "Irene how did this town get its strange name?"

Some say the old-timers used to say it came from settlers calling "Here come the Indians" or 'Here come the Troopers" but that's bullshit. This site was originally called The Badlands and was not settled until 1901. I found through researching old documents the original townspeople were urged to stay on the promise that the railway would be coming soon. But it never did and it became a joke to cock a hand to the ear and call, 'Here Comes the Train'."

"When the settlement applied for incorporation as a town in 1906, its name of Hell's Dump was rejected as being unacceptable. The leader of the petitioners said, 'Oh Christ here comes another setback'. The clerk suggested Here Comes would stand the scrutiny as no other such name was on the register. A bottle of whiskey appeared and the debate continued and finally it was agreed to put a hyphen between the two words to stop idiots calling the town Here Comes What?"

"God who were the idiots?" Buddy laughed but the glares of all three females quickly drowned his frivolity.

"Actually it's a lovely name," he lied and the women were smiling again.