A Real Job

[Boofer]

I'm a Senior Citizen and never had a real job. I'm quite proud of that fact actually since it's the one war cry I remember from my wife. "Get a real job Boofer." My real job was watching and controlling her behavior, something I learned early and always lost on her. She was and always will be a work in progress.

When I got married, I dropped out of college and became a window washer, wearing a grey khaki suit which read "Boof" in little circled letters. It was all worth it in the beginning as I looked forward to regular sex and 69 sessions in our pay by week motel room in Eagle Rock. But things began to change rapidly with those words from her pouty, puffy lips, "when are you gonna get a real job Boofer?" I came home one day to find her hung over on the couch, she had trashed my 64 Chevelle while joy riding with her old boyfriend, Tony. I ask her if they had fucked, and broken my window while doggy fucking? She told me she didn't like my tone and left to see her mother. This was the red flag warning about a wife who expected a Real Job.

Two years into marriage and working menial jobs, I went to my father on bended knee and he landed me a real job. A salesman for a prominent company selling mechanical parts to the Railroad. I couldn't sell shit but it meant wearing a jacket and tie every day, large expense acct. with a small salary until I proved myself. My wife, now working as a receptionist for a psychiatrist told me how proud she was of me while shaking her ass in small dresses for rich Doctors. Boofer the plastic salesman with the hot submissive young wife. My once upon a time aspirations had dwindled mightily.

Sal was my Western Region boss. He made me sick the first time I met him. Sal sported a crew cut when crew cuts were out. A short, stocky, bossy prick. He set me up with an office, an old box car which Sal refurbished for me single handedly while I held the hammer and screw driver. He rolled his sleeves up in his shitty little white shirts while Boofer sported a purple shirt with cuff links. Sal had invented a special box car which he constantly bragged about, his patented claim to fame. I had a big nice desk, a telex, and soon as Sal went back to Denver, I got myself a dart board to play with.
Dad called me from his office high in the sky, "how you doin Boof?" Great dad, love the job. I'd learned to hit the bullseye 4 out of 5 shots.

Sal was insistent on meeting my wife and family. Our main boss in San Francisco was big on family, so naturally Sal claimed to be also. I told Gina about Sal coming for dinner and perhaps a boost for Boofer and a new dart board? My wife took off early that day and prepared some spaghetti with apple struddle for desert. She was buzzing around the table in one of her receptionist "cum and get it" dresses. A little black number with white dots and matching stilettos. For whatever reason, these dresses of hers always rose above her butt cheeks in the back, one of her finer assets was the derrier, but why couldn't she find a dress that fit?

Sal came rolling up the drive way in his rental and my wife was putting on the ritz and charm. I made sure she promised she wouldn't drink, but she had some Coors for Sal, remember he was from Denver. Sal could drink a case and you couldn't tell it. I sat quietly by as Sal impressed my wife his stories about how he invented the Auto Carrier. Gina sat sideways in her chair with that black dress rolled up to her panties, doodling her leg and flashing her eyelashes at Sal. I was the odd man out until Sal wiped the last bit of marinara from his chin. "I think Boofer can make something of himself here?" Gina said, "oh really, you think you can teach him something Sal?"

Upon leaving, Sal kissed my wifes cheek and then the kiss of death on my real job. "We have a family picnic coming up on the 4th in San Francisco, you'll be there won't you?" No, not a picnic with men and booze! Please no, she can't handle men and booze Sal! It'll be the end of my Real Job, and it Was!

Boofer

[HerLittleGuy]

Graet story, Boof. And you tell it well, too!

HLG

[Boofer]

A Real Job is one of my personal fav's, because it was a moment when I realized I couldn't turn back. I had entertained thots of divorce, but she replied, "go ahead, do it!" Marriage was wasn't working out like I envisioned anymore than combat and glory on the beach.

I knew I shouldn't take her to the Company Picnic in San Leandro. A few beers with the guys and she'd drop her panties. My big boss was a moralist, a family values man who believed in everyone bringing their wives. My wife was the youngest, the wildest if she tasted suds from a can. These salesmen wouldn't understand. Boofer would be laughing stock of the company.

Ronnie, another salesman from Denver had picked us up at the airport and taken us to the Hotel. "You guys are gonna have a great time, this is always a Gassss." My wife was laying her clothes out on the bed, and I reminded her to behave. "Will you stop it Boofer and not spoil everything for me."

What transpired in the next 30 hrs was the most humiliating experience to date. It wasn't just her drunkeness and the bj for Ruiz in the RV, or getting under a table and taking Ronnies pants off in front of everyone, or even her disappearance at the meet'n greet in the barroom downstairs, but her total lack of respect for Boofer and acknowledgment of bad behavior. Whatever happened to my dream of a little wife in an apron, a doting wife who fried my pork ribs with homemade peach cobler?

We were boarding the plane for return home to LA, freeze out time which I always lost and learned my lesson about not speaking. We hadn't spoken since I scolded her in the hotel room after her perfomance at the picnic. She returned to the room around 4am, climbed in bed, butt naked, feeling clammy, sweaty and had the nerve to scoot her sweaty little ass against me. She had been in Ronnies room all night as I later found out.

I noticed something about her quite unique the next morning. She looked fresh, re-vitalized in her tiny nylon dress with ruffles. This minty fragrance permeated the area around her. How does a wife hand out bj's, fuck till 4am, and look re-vitalized? Ronnie was returning us to the airport, noticable we weren't speaking and maybe he felt guilty? "Did you guys enjoy it, wasn't it a gasss?" Olivia looked out the window and gave this gut giggle, and I spoke up, "yes, Ronnie, I learned what a Real Job I have ahead of me."

My job, my pride, was fucked thanks to her. Something strange emerged on that short flight home. I noticed Olivia doodling her very sexy legs, nice feet in maroon toe polish, chewing gum and reading a magazine from the chair in front of us. She was still a young girl at heart. Those bastards had used her, seduced her, it wasn't her fault. She was more important in Boofers life than that shitty job, those dickheads, or my pride. I had this heart throbbing in my dick, glancing at how fresh and sexy she looked, what she had done, and absolutely no remorse on her part. She belonged to me, she was mine, and no woman in the world could turn me on like her.

I decided to break the ice, maybe get some pussy at home and think about what she had done, and where she had been till 4am. "Did you have a good time Olivia?" She replied, "being a wise ass Boofer?" No, I hope you enjoyed it, those people aren't your nitch. "Yes, your right, their very stuffy and no fun." Think maybe we could make love, I'll pretend to be Tony for you. "You want to make love to me, after the way you treated me, yelled at me, and made fun of me, Boofer?" I'm sorry, that sales job makes me so uptight. But I love you, always will, so maybe we could make love and talk about this weekend in bed?
"Ok, I so missed our home Boofer, and I hate your stuffy friends."

There was no turning back, I could never leave this lady. She was a Real Job and I loved it. Sex with women would never be the same as the thrill she gave me. No remorse, never any apologies, but looking at her re-vitalized was a hard-on like nothing I have ever known.

Boofer

[HerLittleGuy]

Hi Boofer. I have to say that you carry that torch well. She must really be a special lady. Thanks for sharing this vignette with us.

HLG

[nvr2old]

Well as usual Boof, I sat here totally spellbound by your story! That only happens to me when I read YOUR posts...that which is in YOUR heart. You have a gift Boof, the ability to express what you feel so that others can feel it too. Thanks for sharing.

[Boofer]

I'm overwhelmed by your kind words nvr2old. And HLG I've carried the torch for some time, and she knows it. It's like that nvr2old song, Traces of Love. "Faded photographs, covered now with lines and creases, my life torn in half, memories and bits and pieces, traces of love not that long ago, that didn't turn out quite right." When I write about us, those lines and creases disappear.

(ps, on that plane ride back home, when I ask if we could make love, I recall her saying, "well Boofer, do you think you can behave?" heh heh)

Thank You, Boof

[Les]

(Boofer Bump)

One of the greats from long ago.
Thanks nvr2old for reminding us

Thanks Boofer, wherever you may be