XYZ

"They're, they're white," Elizabeth said, feet propelling her chair slightly away from her desk.

"Because I've never seen them. I've never seen any of them. We're supposed to be intimate, well, we are intimate, but just how intimate?" Garrett sighed, grabbing his briefcase.

"What? Where are you going?" Elizabeth stammered.

"Home, Elizabeth. And the engagement? There is no engagement," Garrett said.

"There, what? Garrett, you can't, fine. Fine! You want to see them?" Elizabeth stammered, then shrilled.

Garrett turned just as Elizabeth defiantly shoved her slacks down her bony hips, displaying her full cotton briefs, her muscular legs. Garrett looked at the profusion of dark hairs that sprouted from the leg openings, then at Elizabeth's enraged face.

"Good night, Ms. Dumont," Garrett said.

"Garrett! Garrett Alan Dunning, you get back here," Elizabeth shrieked.

Garrett knew it was unfair of him to compare the mature woman to the young girl. Physically, Elizabeth and Xaviera were not on a level playing field. Emotionally, they were not on a level playing field. Intellectually, there were stark differences as well.

But in just over twenty four hours, Xaviera Yvette Zimlipic had infuriated Garrett. She had excited Garrett. Xaviera had aroused Garrett. And Elizabeth had simply tired Garrett. Elizabeth had dampened Garrett's enthusiasm, his zeal.

Garrett drove his staid, predictable Mercedes-Benz to his staid, predictable, ostentatious Althea Woods home. Inside of his home, Garrett looked at the solid, sturdy, bland furniture. The common theme was dark antiques, square, bulky furnishings. Boring, serviceable furnishings with very little color to brighten anything, brighten anyone's mood, lift anyone's spirits.

Garrett again touched Xaviera's silky panties and felt a jolt of excitement. Her dress had been ridiculously short. Without panties, she had walked around the store, her private parts mere millimeters from being exposed to the customers of Baron's.

He hit his phone's contacts and found 'XYZ' and hit enter. He smiled as Van Halen's 'Jump' started to play in his ear.

"Hi Gar, miss me?" Xaviera asked cheerfully, interrupting the tune just as Alex Van Halen's drums kicked in.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Garrett admitted.

"Simple solution," she said.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Garrett asked, trotting up the stairs.

"Come get me. You got anything other than that Mercedes?" Xaviera suggested.

"Nope. Just the boring old Mercedes," Garrett said, entering his bedroom.

"Oh well. Guess it'll do for now," Xaviera said. "So, where you taking me?"

"Suppose I say Gearbox?" Garrett said.

"Okay," Xaviera said.

"Xaviera, Gearbox's a sports bar. There's nothing there but greasy burgers, beers, and half-naked women," Garrett chuckled.

"Well, I like two out of those three," Xaviera said.

"Oh? And what you got against ice cold beers?" Garrett joked.

"Well, I'm not old enough drink," Xaviera said.

Garrett's cock became trapped in his briefs as he thought about the beautiful blonde and another woman, kissing each other, touching each other. He located his cowboy boots and a simple pull over shirt.

"Well, then we'll have to wait until you're twenty one," Garrett said. "Until then, how's Rustler sound?"

"Hmm, oh! And on Thursday nights? There's line dancing there," Xaviera enthused.

She texted him her address and Garrett's eyebrows shot up. He sent a text message, verifying that he had the correct address.

'1211 Simpson Way,' she replied.

Garrett found the opulent Oakleaf home among other opulent homes. His Mercedes was not out of place in this neighborhood.

John Baron opened the door, playfully arguing with a beautiful blonde woman. Garrett did a double take as he entered the home; the woman could be Xaviera's twin sister. The only differences that he could see was her white blonde hair was loose, not in dozens of thin, long beaded braids, and there were tiny indentations at the corners of her eyes.

"Garrett Dunning," he introduced himself to the jewelry store owner and the woman.

"Da, and I am Magda Baron, I am Xaviera's mother," the woman said, her Russian accent coming through.

"Mother? You're pulling my leg," Garrett said.

"No she's not," John smiled. "Comes to work for me, can hardly speak a word of English..."

"I speak very good English, I speak it better than you," Magda laughed. "I do not say 'Y'all' and 'Ain't' all the time."

"And y'all? Ain't there two days..." John now adopted a heavy twang.

"See? See? That is horrible English," Magda laughed happily.

"Has two of the sweetest little girls, both so beautiful they looked just like little porcelain dolls," John said.

"Aw!" Xaviera sighed, entering the foyer.

"And then unfortunately, they grew up," John finished his tale.

"Hi Sweetheart," Xaviera said, pulling Gar down for a kiss.

She wore a cowboy shirt over Daisy Duke cut off shorts. Her small feet were jammed into cowboy boots. The blouse was unbuttoned to just between her heavy breasts, showing Garrett that she wore no bra. The shirt tails were long enough to hide her Daisy Dukes from sight. And her numerous braids were tied back in a noisy, clattering ponytail.

"Y'all have fun," Magda said, trying to adopt a Texas twang.

"Mother, quit," Xaviera smiled, linking her fingers with Garrett's fingers.

In the car, Garrett asked Xaviera when she would be turning twenty one.

"Hmm, two years and two days," she smiled.

"Are, you, you're serious?" Garrett asked.

"Mm-hmm," Xaviera said, adjusting his car's stereo to K.E.I.Y.; the classic rock station out of Lowridge, Texas.

"I, Xaviera, I, two days? Friday?" Garrett asked.

"Mm-hmm. You always have trouble talking?" she teased.

"No, yes," Garrett said. "Xaviera, in two days, I'll be turning thirty eight. Thirty eight. I'm twice as old as you."

"Mm-hmm. And?" Xaviera asked and started bopping her head along with ZZ Top's 'Legs.'

"You, you don't think I'm a little too old for you?" Garrett asked.

At the first red light, Xaviera pulled him to her. She kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth. Her hand brushed against his blue jean clad cock.

"That thing still works? No, Gar, you're not too old for me," she said when a car behind them blew their horn.

"By the way, felt my ring? When we was kissing?" she asked, sticking her tongue out.

"I uh, yeah, yes, I could feel it," Garrett admitted, trying to adjust his erection without being obvious about it.

"Need help?" Xaviera asked, giggling.

In the parking lot of the barbecue restaurant, Xaviera insisted on another kiss. This time, there was no bleating car horn to stop them. When they broke apart, Garrett again had to adjust his erection.

He tried to remember if he and Elizabeth had ever sat in the front seat of his car and made out. He was fairly certain they had not. Elizabeth always kissed as if Garrett had bad breath; it certainly did not seem as if she enjoyed kissing him.

His first date with Allison, she had a mouthful of bulky orthodontic braces. But she had been an enthusiastic kisser. The braces came off six months before their wedding; the first night the braces had been off of Allison's teeth, Garrett's mouth actually hurt from the frenzied kissing they'd done.

"Table for two?" the hostess asked as Xaviera and Garrett entered the dark building.

"Close to the band?" Xaviera asked hopefully.

"Hmm, yeah, okay," the hostess agreed, grabbing two menus.

"Gar, you dance?" Xaviera asked as they followed the hostess to a table. "And quit looking at her butt."

"Yes I do. My sister Roxanne made sure I learned, as much as I hated it," Garrett said.

The band would never win any recording contract and the singer sang through his nose. But as soon as they'd ordered, Xaviera dragged Garrett onto the small dance floor. Her movements were fluid, energetic. Her smile inspired Garrett to smile. Her rebel yell seemed to inspire the band to play a little better.

"They bringing our ribs," Xaviera announced.

She turned and gave a friendly wave to the band and dragged Garrett to their table. With a scorching kiss, she pushed him into the bench seat.

"Rustlers does catering," she commented as she tore a rib from the full rack.

"Okay," Garrett smiled. "And you're telling me this why?"

"Think about it, Gar," she said, holding up her left hand, displaying her unencumbered fingers. "Why would a woman who's attracted to you tell you one of her favorite restaurants does catering?"

"Uh huh," Garrett chuckled.

"And Gar? No grandmother's ring. I'm not your grandmother," Xaviera said, chewing with her mouth open. "You try the jalapeno fries?"

"How is everything?" the waitress asked.

"Crazy good," Garrett said.

"Aw!" Xaviera complained when the band's singer announced they were taking a break.

Garrett was actually relieved; the music was pretty loud. And the singer's nasal tone was irritating.

Just as Xaviera managed to clean off her last rib, the band returned. After they'd polished off a blackberry cobbler, Xaviera dragged Garrett onto the dance floor again. Garrett was sweating by the time the band announced they would be taking another break.

"Look at that nice new sports watch you got there and tell me what time it is," Xaviera ordered.

"Man! Ten fifteen," Gar said, surprised.

"Really? That's what your sports watch says?" Xaviera asked as they stepped out into the humid, mosquito infested night. "It's not your Rolex, is it?"

"Uh huh. No, it's my new sports watch. But what's yours say?" Garrett asked.

"Mine says time for my man take me home, get me in his bed," Xaviera said, kissing him.

Again, thoughts of Elizabeth, his commitment to the woman did not crowd into Garrett's mind. Thoughts of Xaviera's youth, inexperience did not present themselves in Garrett's reasoning.

"Hmm! Oh, damn, I set mine a few minutes slow," Garrett said as he held open the passenger door for Xaviera. "Now its saying time for me get you home, get you in bed."

"We need to synchronize," Xaviera said. "Help cut down on those kinds of mistakes."

Living on Simpson Way with her mother, and her step-father, Althea Woods subdivision did not impress Xaviera. Garrett's home did not impress Xaviera. His furniture certainly did not impress her.

"Gar, really? There one thing fun in this place?" Xaviera asked, unsnapping her blouse.

"No," Garrett admitted.

"If your bed has hospital rails on it, I'm leaving," Xaviera warned.

"Hospital, now why would you say something like that?" Gar laughed.

"Well. Everything else in this place is something your grandfather would have," Xaviera said, wrinkling her nose at the ornate bedroom furniture.

She dropped her blouse to the floor and jammed her denim shorts down and off. She stood, smiling, wearing her cowboy boots.

Her shoulders were pale, rounded, her arms were pale, sleek. Her breasts were full and round. Each pale orb was capped with a light pink areolae and tightly crinkled pale pink nipple.

Her belly had just the hint of softness to it and her navel was a dimple. Xaviera's hips were full, womanly hips and her plump pubic mound was capped with an unruly thatch of white blonde pubic hair.

Turning, she swaggered to his bed, then hopped on, scurrying on hands and knees to the center of the bedspread. She then flopped onto her back and rested on her elbows, watching Garrett hurriedly undressing.

"Oh, yes, oh, bring that here," Xaviera enthused when his cock bobbed into view.

Garrett knew he was slightly above average. His cock was proportional to his height, and because he still had the narrow hips and thick thighs of his football glory days, his cock appeared slightly larger.

"No," Garrett demanded, crawling onto the bed.

"No? Did you just tell me no?" Xaviera asked, amused.

"Uh huh. Before we go any further, I want to taste you," Garrett demanded.

Xaviera let out a squeal, then laughed when Garrett grabbed her legs and spread them wide. She smiled down at him as his mouth descended toward her drooling slit.

"Oh, yes, ooh, mm," Xaviera praised as Garrett's tongue delved into her wetness.

Garrett's first girlfriend had taught Garrett how to eat pussy. Allison had taught Garrett how to love eating pussy. Garrett had tried to show Elizabeth how skilled he was at eating pussy, but Elizabeth had no desire to find out if Garrett was skilled at anything, other than very clinical missionary sex.

Xaviera grunted, squealed and screamed when her orgasm crested. When Garrett again brought his mouth to her wet pussy, she grabbed him by his ears.

"Baby needs dick. Now," she said.

"Baby isn't in charge here," Garrett said. "Baby's ass still has my hand print on it? Then Gar's in charge here."

"Ooh, well! Yes sir," Xaviera cooed.

"In fact..." Garrett said, flipping Xaviera onto her belly.

"Ooh, Gar, you going slap that ass? You going make that your ass?" Xaviera demanded.

"Damn right. This? This is my ass. Hear me? This ass? Is mine," Gar said, giving the sweet looking hillocks a few stinging slaps.

"Oh yes, Gar, that's your ass," Xaviera moaned.

Garrett drove himself into Xaviera's wet pussy as she lay on her belly. She grunted and moaned as he punched himself into her, taking four savage thrusts to put himself fully into her.

"Oh, Gar, Baby's been waiting a long time for this," Xaviera shuddered, close to orgasm.

She squealed in orgasm. Her orgasm caused her pussy to clamp tightly around Garrett's thrusting cock. The position wasn't a comfortable position anyway and the clamping down made it that much more difficult.

"Ugh, oh Gar, I knew, I knew you'd be the best," Xaviera praised, shuddering through her pleasure.

"Ugh, aw shit," Garrett grunted, spewing his load into her pussy.

"Your watch say it's time for round two?" Xaviera asked when Garrett rolled off of her.

"My watch says it's time kick your sweet little ass out of here. I don't know about you, but I've got to be in court at eight tomorrow," Garrett wheezed.

"Aw!" Xaviera whined, but did wiggle out of bed.

The sight of his semen trickling out of Xaviera's raw looking pussy, trickling down her rounded thighs gave Garrett another erection. But he really did need his rest, really did need to be prepared for his court appearance in the morning.

"I love you," Xaviera said, wiggling her lush bottom into her shorts.

"I, what the hell, okay, I love you too," Garrett said, pulling his jeans on.

"What's that mean, 'what the hell, I love you too?'" Xaviera asked, not bothering to button her shirt, just knotting it across her breasts.

"Xaviera, what? We just met, huh?" Garrett said.

"Uh huh. And?" Xaviera said, sauntering to the door. "There some kind of time limit on love?"

"I guess not," Garrett laughed, following her.

Outside of her home, Xaviera looked deeply into Garrett's eyes. Then she gave him a soft kiss.

"You know? For such a smart lawyer, you sure don't know much, do you?" she opined.

"What?" Garrett laughed.

"But it's okay. I love you anyway," she smiled, kissed him again and got out of his car.

In the morning, Garrett debated with himself, Rolex, or sports watch. Finally, he put on his Rolex and drove to the courthouse.

"I don't know who you are," his client said after Garrett won the settlement they were seeking. "But I like this new guy."

"Hmm? What? What are you talking about?" Garrett asked as he put his papers into his briefcase.

"When we met what? Three months ago? Get this whole thing started?" William Walters asked.

"Mm, the nineteenth, almost four months ago," Garrett agreed.

"Well, I could tell you understood all the legal stuff. Hell, you better, huh? But I never thought you knew shit about the human side of this whole thing. And then today? You come in here and I'm thinking, 'Now, who the hell is this guy? But thank God I hired him,'" William complimented.

Stepping out, Garrett saw an old faded yellow school bus parked across the street. He saw 'School Lunch stenciled on the rear of the bus, saw the line of people waiting.

"Know what? Let's give it a try," Garrett smiled, joining the line.

"They just announced they're out of the beef stew," the person in front of Garrett informed him.

"Aw! Two people behind Garrett whined.

"They still got the goulash, huh?" another newcomer asked.

"Not after I get it," the first person joked.

"Hey, you, with the fancy suit? Tackle him, huh?" the newcomer ordered Garrett.

Obviously, Garrett was the newcomer. These people knew what this food truck served, had their favorites.

"Hi!" a cute red head with pneumatic breasts shoved into a Catholic Schoolgirl style uniform chirped brightly when Garrett stepped up to the counter.

"Goulash. I can't remember the last time I had a goulash," Garrett said.

It amused him when he was handed an old fashioned school tray. The seating was done at old wooden school desks. Garrett found a vacant seat and plowed through the delicious meal.

Looking around, he saw the judge that had presided over his trial. He saw Mayor Shirley Dunning, no relationship to him, enjoying a sloppy joe sandwich. He saw other attorneys, he saw secretaries.

Looking around, he also understood an unspoken rule; eat, then go. There were others waiting for your seat. Eat, pick up your tray, bring it to the bin, and go.

As he hurried through his meal, Garrett did wonder at William Walters's comment. The man owned and operated a very successful security company. The man made his living by observation. William knew that Garrett possessed the legal acumen the difficult case needed to bring it to a satisfactory conclusion.

But until today, until just three days after meeting Xaviera Yvette Zimlipic, William Walters had not observed that Garrett had any understanding of the humanity components of the case.

He stood in line to put his empty tray and silverware into the bin, his paper napkin and water cup into the trash can. Then, with a little pep in his step, Garrett strolled to his Mercedes-Benz.

With a look around, Garrett noticed all the other luxury automobiles. He stood upright and did a 360 sweep of the entire parking lot. Far away, toward the end of the parking lot, he could see some pickups, a few nondescript sedans, and a few older luxury automobiles. But Garrett did not see one single 'Fun' car.

Garrett called Holly Frentz, the girl that did duty as his executive assistant. He shared her with Jerome Davis and knew, when Jerome did retire, he'd inherit Holly as his own assistant.

"Holly, as far as I know, I don't have any appointments, do I?" Garrett asked.

"Hmm, no, no sir; you have the Walters hearing today," Holly said in her harsh, no-nonsense delivery.

"Just making sure," Garrett said and drove toward 2 Alliance Square.

Hitting XYZ on his cell phone started Van Halen's 'Jump' ringtone. Garrett bopped his head in time with the infectious tune.

"Hi Sweetheart," Xaviera said happily.

The last time Garrett had called Elizabeth, she had responded with 'Yes?' Even as they coupled, Elizabeth did not call Garrett 'Sweetheart.' She simply hissed out a 'yes' and shuddered once, then lay still while Garrett thrust himself into her.

"Hello my love," Garrett said. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

"Aw. You so sweet," she purred.

"Ma'am? If you're too busy to wait on me, I can always find another place of business," Garrett heard Elizabeth's voice snap.

"Love you, Gar, but I've got a customer, okay?" Xaviera said. "See you tonight?"

"See you tonight," Garrett agreed and hung up.

He did wonder what Elizabeth was doing at the small jewelry store. He was fairly certain that had been Elizabeth's voice snapping at Xaviera. He had heard Elizabeth use that snappish tone with others before, people she considered beneath her, people she believed should be fawning over her.