Sally-Ann's Rain Man - Sex Stories

Sally-Ann's Rain Man

... forever. I wonder how Mr. Butler’s nose got broke because it gives his face a rugged character. He said, “Earlier today this widower decided it’s is time to move on.” What exactly does Thomas mean by that? I have a pretty good idea though. Yes, I’ve had relationships with both younger and older men for that matter. I’ve been looking for the right one since I’ve moved back home and apparently not in the right places. It would be so nice to have somebody steady; to have a true fresh start with a man who actually loves me for me; a man to share my life with. The fact that Mr. Butler was married once is a plus; somewhat tamed and domesticated but not too tame I hope. Fate, I don’t know; on the surface we could be a good match....we’ll see.’ “I’ll have coffee with you two weeks from today. That’s my answer Mr. Butler.” “As you wish, Mrs. McCarthy, where may I call on you?” The tow truck driver impatiently tapped on the hood of the Jeep to get our attention. I had forgotten all about him. I rolled down the window and handed the tow truck driver Mr. Butler’s business card, “I’m sorry for making you wait. Please tow my car to this address. My new mechanic will see to it,” and I rolled the window back up annoyed at the intrusion. “Am I your new mechanic, Mrs. McCarthy?” “Yes, and you may dispense with the Mrs.” “Then it’s Ms. McCarthy?” “Miss McCarthy, not Ms. and I’ve never married.” “You’ve broken many hearts no doubt.” “That definitely is a pick-up line.” “Forgive me; I got ...

... carried away with the moment.” “Think nothing of it.” “May I call you Sally-Ann?” “How do you know my name is Sally-Ann, Thomas?” “Lucky guess, perhaps.” “You must have looked at my insurance card when you set the parking brake. Did I forget to do that too?” “Yes, we are both guilty as charged. My friends call me Tom.” “Not yet, at this juncture you are still my auto mechanic.” “I see, Miss McCarthy, you’re going to make me earn that privilege.” “Of course, it will be fun.” “I concur, and I’m sure you worth it. What will you call me?” “I will call you Mr. Butler as we’ve only just met.” “Yes, as propriety dictates, Mr. Butler it is.” “I work at Zane’s truck stop, Sir. Are you familiar with it?” “I know where it’s located, yes.” “Will you kindly deliver my car there when it’s fixed, please?” “Now you’re talking a bit old fashion. What do you attribute this too, Miss McCarthy?” “It must be the rain, kind Sir. In everyone’s life some rain must fall.....” I arrived at work the next morning to find Zane, six waitresses; Doris, Mary, Donna, Lily, Susan, Denise plus a bouquet of four dozen roses in red, yellow, white and pink waiting for me. The card said, “Miss McCarthy. Since you never wager I bet myself double or nothing and won. I doubled-down and won again; roses for a lovely lady, Sincerely, Your new auto mechanic, Mr. Butler.” Nobody sent me flowers at work before; goodness, roses are my favorite flowers. I had to explain to the girls and Zane who Mr. Butler is and how I met him. ...