Toehold by Stephen H. Foreman

Author:Stephen H. Foreman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2007-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

The closest thing Sue had heard thus far in the way of sexual endearment was that fornicating with her was like hanging on to the steering wheel of a runaway eighteen-wheeler on a steep downhill grade with no seat belt. Men did not whisper sweet nothings in her ear. They begged for mercy. Ultimately, as far as Sue was concerned, they were a bunch of little itty-bitty things, not worth the time or effort. If she had lived in Japan she would have hung out with Sumo wrestlers, but it seemed she wasn’t going to get any further than Mobile. Okay, she was tough; she could live without it until the day the man who put the shot walked onto that field. She lost her breath; her heart crumbled like a sugar cookie; her legs went weak. On the third day he walked over to her and said, “Hi, sexy.” By the time those three syllables crossed his lips she belonged to him heart, soul, and all the good parts in between.

He was a full-blooded South Sea Islander, a Samoan, which accounted for his size. She didn’t know it yet, but her lover-to-be was hung like a whale. Once they were intimate, which was two steaks and six beers after they met, she took to calling him “Moby Dick,” and he took to whispering “Sweet Ass” in her ear. When they coupled from behind, he said her ass looked like a big, beefy heart. He’d explode into her like a broke-loose fire hydrant, which set off a chain reaction of orgasms that put them both onto a new planet. When he came, he’d kiss her hard on the spot where her ass met her spine, then he’d whoop and cry out, “Oh, Lord, thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” His name was Manny, and he was the love of Sue’s life. They became inseparable, like a brace of matched Percherons in a field with no fence.

Manny was the type of man who always went for the gold, no matter what he did. The thing about the shot put was that he intended to compete in the Olympics, intended to break the record and make his name, then open a gym, and eventually a chain of gyms, in Southern California. He and Sue would be equal partners. Maybe they’d call their place “In the Buff” or “Buff It Out.” They discarded the names “Gym Dandy,” “Butt Factory,” and “Venus Envy,” though Sue kind of giggled with the idea of calling it “Moby Dick’s,” maybe have a logo of a giant sperm whale on their business cards, but Manny wanted to keep that moniker just their little secret, well, maybe not so little, but only theirs nonetheless. He truly was a sweetheart, her sweetheart. “Old Faithful” she sometimes called him for a change of pace.

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