One for the road

K was talking about belts recently and it reminded me of a story I'd meant to share about little bunny's visit out here a few months ago.

It was early in the morning, still dark out with a cold wind blowing as we left the hotel room. Everything was deserted. The road to the hotel wrapped around the edge of an empty field. No traffic whizzing by at 5 A.M. Even the prairie dogs were still in bed.

Little bunny and I headed towards the lights of the 7-11 a block away, in search of a quick breakfast before I caught the bus to work. We were talking quietly about not much in particular when a wicked thought struck me. My standard work "uniform" is jeans, a t-shirt and a nice thick men's leather belt I bought when I decided ladies' belts were just to frilly to be practical. I fingered the square silver buckle as we walked, waiting for the opportunity.

Suddenly I stopped walking, then started again moving more slowly. I stepped behind little bunny and slid the belt out of my belt loops. The crack echoed loudly in the silence, but there was nobody to hear. Terry jumped and yelped, then grinned at me. I cracked the belt on his bottom again and he moaned a bit. He lifted up the back of his coat to give me a clear shot at his jeans. We walked on, our steps punctuated by the snap of the leather on his bottom. He yelped and jumped after each blow, but still grinned when he looked back at me.

We turned a corner and found a car suddenly coming our way. I slipped the belt into my coat pocket. A moment later the driver turned and I went back to whipping bunny across the street. We walked along the side of a closed restaurant and then through it's parking lot, the belt still keeping time.

We stopped just short of the 7-11 door. I pulled the belt back on while Terry rubbed his bottom. I gave him a quick hug before turning towards the door. There would be more later, but first we needed coffee...

Ms. Betty