It was a quiet night in Alabama, nothin but the chitterin’ hum of crickets & grasshoppers drownin’ out all the normal breezes and ripplin’ streams and such. I was just settin’ about my nightly routine, changin’ from my daytime robe over to somethin’ a little more comfortable and sheer when theres one knock on my door. Just one knock and whoever knocked it left it hangin there to get drowned out by the buzzin’ lil’ beasties fiddlin’ their legs together like all the dickens. I cinched my sheer nighttime robe and went lookin’ after who was knockin’ just once and when I opened the door there stood the saddest old man you or I ever did see. He was small and bent, the way old men get once all the strength is gone from em and the wrinkles take over and he had the saddest face I had ever seen, I nearly broke into tears just settin’ eyes on him. He held out a withered an’ worn out hand and in it was usual fee (in worn and crinkled up, sad looking money if you believe it). I looked him up an’ down, there was next to nothing to him, like a skeleton an’ some old workers clothes and some tanned up, leathery skin mixed in between, but I shrugged and figured if he’s payin’ I’m gonna be a hospitable hostess. I took his hand and brought him in, he followed obediently although he was so small I betcha I coulda just manhandled him and had my way with him and tossed him out before he could say ‘boo’. But I didn’t, somethin’ in me felt for him, like I could see all the time that had washed over this fella and instead of washin’ him clean it had gone the other way (he wasn’t dirty mind you, just caked in age is all). I undid his sad belt that was just as worn as him and it nearly fell apart just from my grip, I unbuttoned his paper-thin shirt and let it slide off his tired shoulders, tears streamed down his cheeks. I kissed him my gentlest kisses and whispered soft things, I rubbed my bosoms on his chest and let his pants fall around his ankles. His tears kept streaming and I went to work sa tender as I could, using all the softness of my body in all the ways I knew to soften mens minds and harden up their nethers. It was at this point I became acquainted with his Mr. Johnson. Now, you’ll hear a fell talk about his johnson here an’ there an’ I’m just as apt to be talking about a johnson given my line of work but when I refer to this fellow and what he brought, well, that is a Mister. Capital. Johnson. My eyes went as big as saucers I reckon when Mr. Johnson woke up and from there on out I knew exactly what I was doing. That Mr. Johnson was somethin’, I normally consider myself quite capable in the oral arts and fitting members into whatever crevice of mine they belong but this Mr. Johnson, Whew! He gave me a run for my money! I worked that sad little man up and down, I had to be doin’ most all of the work as he was so sad it seemed he couldn’t lift a finger (no need with Mr. Johnson lifted I suppose). I backed him against a wall and did my best to get Mr. Johnson all the way in me but he won out and I just found myself pantin’ an’ sweatin’ and sore but now it was about the principal of the matter. I put him on the bed and went to town using my best oral arguments on Mr. Johnson and he left me speechless and coughin’, the whole while that sad old man was goin’ between cryin’ and just lookin’ like he was goin’ to cry. I bent myself over a table and pulled the sad old man and Mr. Johnson in behind me and did all of the work bouncin’ him in and out of me but it was to no avail, I even held the old fella’s hands onto my ripe bottom while I bounced him in and out like he was grabbin’ me but still I couldn’t manage all of Mr. Johnson and the sad little man kept bein’ sad. Finally, exasperated I laid him gently on the floor and squatted down, Whoo! Too far! I had my legs bent and was up on my toes ridin’ Mr. Johnson and givin’ him all I had, flexin’ all the muscles I knew how down there and really givin’ it the good ol’ college try, well wouldn’t you know, all this hard work gets a girl sweatin’ and oh boy, I had sweat pooled around my toes enough to fit a momma duck and a few ducklings too, and there goes my toes slippin’ in the puddle an’ flyin out to the side! Down I went, right onto Mr. Johnson and I got all of him! I sucked in so much air you woulda thunk I was part balloon and that sad, old fella’ he made a big gasp and then a sigh and there went Mr. Johnson, finally letting go of all that gooey goodness and just fillin’ me from stem to stern. The pain gave way to satisfaction and it felt good havin all of that Mr. Johnson in me and I took a moment to catch my breath and send a prayer out to every thanksgiving turkey since now I was an honorary member of their ilk. When I had my wits about me enough to climb off that sad old man I found he wasn’t sad at all, why there was the biggest grin spread across his face I’d ever seen on anyone. Somethin’ else I noticed though, maybe he had traded cryin’ for smilin’ but he’d also traded breathin’ for not breathin’. Well, that’s the way she goes sometimes, some days you’re as low as you can go and others you’re way up in the clouds. Other days you’re knockin’ on a lady’s door and others you’re buried in a peaceful spot not too far down the river’s edge. If you ask me, there’s worse ways to go.