Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (73 page)

She did not attempt to control the fear in her reply. “The customers would probably love to see my blistered ass."

He shook his head and laughed. “Maybe in the morning, slut. I'm too damned horny to waste time tonight."

“Boyd, please use a rubber,” she pleaded.

“Boyd don't fuck cunts with a glove on his dick, slut. You know that."

“Please, honey. The bedside table drawer is full of them."

“Shit, bitch. You already have a baby. One more won't matter."

“I ... I may have something. I've been feeling funny down there."

“Shit.” He pulled a condom from the drawer, ripped off the foil and rested it on her stomach. He stripped quickly, forced on the rubber and plunged deep inside her. She lifted her hips to meet his thrusts.

“Hell, baby,” he mocked. “You have enough lubrication in your cunt to fill the crankcase of my car. You like Boyd's dick stretching your pussy, don't you, bitch?"

“You know I do, Boyd,” she whimpered.

When he finished emptying his semen into the reservoir of the condom, he rested his full weight on her tortured body. “Now, bitch,” he gasped, “the next time I tell you I'm coming to pay you a visit, you keep you ass at home. You got that?"

She continued to moan, pretending that sexual ecstasy prevented a reply.

He rolled to her side, leaving her in the painful body knot, knowing she could not extricate herself. He pulled off the rubber, tossed it to the floor and cleaned himself with the sheet. He roughly fondled her breast.

“Nobody has tits like yours, Shell, but they seem to be getting a little flabby. Aren't there some exercises you can do?"

“Do you really think they're getting flabby?"

“Shit, they'll be knee-knockers before long. You have the best cunt in town, Shell. You know that? How do you keep that thing so tight? I know you fuck anything wearing pants."

“It's ... it's tight because you are so big, Boyd. Baby, wouldn't you love to screw me every night like you used to?"

He raised up on one elbow. “I love your pussy, bitch, and before I leave I'm gonna find out if you can still take me in your throat, but I don't like being tied down. I tried it and it just didn't work."

“Annie needs a father."

“She's your problem, bitch."

“You wouldn't let me have an abortion. You said you'd marry me."

“I lied.” He laughed and sat up. “You have my money ready like I told you?"

“Boyd, help me untangle. I've torn a ligament or something. My thighs are killing me."

He grabbed the inside of her left thigh and she stifled the scream. “Where's the money?” Boyd demanded.

With tears streaming down her cheeks she whimpered, “Baby, you know I'm saving the money for Annie."

He jumped up and slapped her fanny hard. “You'd better have it, bitch.” He crossed the room, snapped on the overhead light and spotted her handbag on the dresser. He dumped it on her helpless body.

“Holy shit,” he exclaimed when the roll of bills tumbled between her legs. He removed the rubber band and counted. “Three thousand bucks! Damn, I thought you were holding out on me and all the time you had the money and a little bonus.” He raked the debris from her body and sucked her navel noisily.

“Boyd, if you're pleased with me, help me out of this position."

“Sure, baby,” he said as he picked up his pants from the floor and stuffed the bills in a pocket. He roughly pried her ankles from under her arms, yanked her legs towards the end of the mattress and she bit her hand to avoid crying out against the pain.

“Honey,” she said through her tears, “you know I make good money. Move in with me. You can have it all."

He grabbed her breasts and pulled her to a sitting position. “With those sagging titties you won't be a headliner much longer,” he predicted.

She weighed her breasts in her hands and, while studying them, said, “I have some money put away for Annie. You can have it if you'll marry me."

He pushed her hands away and squeezed her breasts. “He probably never said it, but I heard that one time Elvis said there was no point in buying the cow when you can get all the milk you want through the fence. I ain't gonna marry you, Shell, unless..."

“Unless what?” she said, hope showing in the tone of her voice.

He flipped her nipples and watched them jump to attention. “I'll bet you could still be a high priced hooker."

“Fuck you,” she said as she scooted to the opposite side of the bed and stood up, shakily. “I won't do that for you, for Annie, for anybody!"

“Go get me a beer,” Boyd ordered as he propped up in the bed.

In minutes, she returned with a beer and a damp wash cloth. She sat beside him, cleansing his penis while he sipped the brew.

He moaned with pleasure as she applied gentle pressure to his scrotum. “You're okay, Shell. You'll make some guy a happy husband one day, but as for me, I like things the way they are."

“I wish you'd come around more often."

“Your pussy misses me, does it?"

“All of my body parts miss you, Boyd."

“Maybe I'll do that,” he said. “You'd damn well be home the next time I come or I'll beat the living shit out of you. Where the hell were you anyway?"

“I met this woman who writes books. She's working on a novel about a stripper, only she doesn't know anything about being a stripper. She offered to pay me to fill her in."

“That's where the money came from?"

She nodded.

“You got more coming?"

“I have sessions with her this afternoon and tomorrow, but she paid me in advance. You have it all."

“How'd you meet her?"

“It's a long story. You wouldn't be interested."

“I asked, didn't I?"

“I met this guy who lives in Dot."

“Does he have a name?"

She nodded. “Sam Pond. Anyway, I've been seeing him. He took Annie and me swimming this weekend and that's where we met the writer."

“Is this Sam person any good in bed?"

“Compared to you, nobody is."

“Is he rich?"

Shelly laughed. “I doubt it. He's a mechanic."

“Hell, they make good money, Shell. You love him?"

She shook her head. “Sometimes I wish I did."

“I'm confused. If he's no good in bed, not rich and you don't love him, why do you keep seeing him?"

“Annie loves him and I believe he loves her too. She needs a father figure in her life. You're not available and Sam's a nice guy."

Boyd laughed as he drained the beer. “Why don't you marry this nice guy, Shell?"

She chuckled. “It's not because he hasn't asked. Hell, he proposed the first time we met."

“Jerk,” Boyd said as he rolled to his stomach. “Wake me at five,” he instructed. “I promised to meet a sweet young thing at six and she lives on the other side of town."

Shelly snapped on her Macintosh and checked e-mail. In addition to a half dozen spam messages there was one from Boyd.

Shell,

I've been thinking about some of the things that you said the other night. I guess my conscience is bothering me. I didn't know I had a conscience! You're right. Annie does need a father and you need someone to help raise her. Maybe you should take another look at this Sam person you mentioned. If he loves Annie, perhaps you should consider accepting his marriage proposal.

I'll be damn, Shelly thought. You're the last person in the world I would have thought would be interested in Annie's welfare. She clicked the reply button.

You're forgetting something, Boyd. The jerk doesn't turn me on—you do! If you're interested in Annie having a father, you're elected. It was your semen that created her. Remember?

Shelly bathed Annie and straightened up the apartment. It would be nice to live in Sam's home, she thought, and Dot would be a good environment for Annie. She really likes the twins and Junior too. Shelly glanced in the living room and smiled as she saw Annie, watching cartoons with the stuffed dog clutched to her chest. She smiled as she thought, Lucky too! At Sam's house, Annie could have a real pet.

As they sat at the kitchen table, eating lunch, Annie said, “Mommy, when will I learn to read?"

“Not for a long time, Sweetie. You will begin to learn when you're this many,” Shelly said, showing Annie five fingers. “That's when you will go to Kindergarten."

“Junior can read. He learned when he was this many,” Annie replied, showing three fingers. “I'm almost that many, aren't I?"

“Annie, I don't think Junior can read."

“Yes, he can. He read Goldilocks to me and some other stories, too. His mommy taught him."

Shelly smiled. “I'll ask Mrs. Dollar about it today. Okay?"

“Okay, mommy."

As she and Annie were about to leave, Shelly noticed the computer was still on and there was a new message.

What kind of father would I make? Think about it! And who's to say I could not continue to dip my bucket in your well occasionally? Your “jerk” works during the day. You and I both work at night! Do I need to draw you a picture?

Shelly chuckled and clicked the reply button.

My place or yours? What will the neighbors think? You promise to screw me once a week and I'll do anything you say—well, almost anything.

She deleted the messages and snapped off the computer. “Come on, Goldilocks. We're running late."

Ron propped on his elbow and gently twisted Shelly's still erect nipple. “Which do you like best, Shelly—the foreplay, orgasm or afterglow?"

“With you, I like it all,” she replied dreamily.

“You like my private area in back of the barn, don't you?"

She smiled and nodded. “I used to fantasize about being screwed in a haystack. This comes close, but it's awfully humid. I need a shower."

He tongued her nipple, kissed her forehead and then her nose. “I don't think my secret place would remain a secret very long if I installed an air conditioner."

“A simple fan would help,” she said, lightly fingering the stubble on his chin.

“Are you really a stripper?"

“Yep."

“Would you mind if I catch your act sometime?"

“I don't give out free passes."

He rolled on his back. “Seeing all those male eyes devouring your most private parts might not be a pleasant experience. How about a private show?"

She propped on her elbow and tickled his hairy chest with her nipple. “Do I hear a hint of jealousy in your voice?” she teased. “What happened to old ‘love ’em and leave ’em’ Ron?"

He fingered her earlobes. “Somehow, it's different with you."

“You're not thinking of picket fences and the patter of little feet, are you?"

“Oh, hell no! It's just that, well, it makes me uncomfortable to think of you humping somebody else. That's all."

“How did a handsome hunk like you wind up as the Dollar's butler?"

He shrugged his shoulders. “I needed a job. It'll do ’til something better comes along. Are you screwing Sam Pond?"

“Sam's a nice guy. He's good to Annie."

“I asked you a direct question."

“And I intentionally evaded it. My private life is none of your business."

“I suppose you're right, but I find myself thinking about you often these days."

She snuggled close. “A penny for your thoughts."

“It'll cost you a nickel—inflation, you know."

“Put it on my account."

His fingers trailed down her spine. “For one thing, I worry about your safety."

“You're kidding."

He shook his head. “I know where the Crazy Cat Club is located. It's not the nicest part of Charlotte."

“They have bouncers that nobody will mess with."

“I'm talking about after the club closes. You drive home alone during the wee hours of the morning. There're a ton of lunatics out there these days."

She fondled his scrotum. “It's sweet for you to worry about me, Ron, but you can put that concern in the trashcan. I carry a 9mm pistol in my glove compartment and I'm not afraid to use it."

He laughed. “I might have known."

“Look what I found,” Shelly said, seductively pumping his growing erection. “Three times in one afternoon! You'll a hell of a stud."

Ron used her breasts as handles, helping her mount him. “Ride that horse, Shelly,” he joked. “Don't let him buck you off."

Shelly's hips moved in tantalizing circles. “No fear of that. I tamed this bronco two weeks ago."

“I hate to interrupt you, sweetheart, but I'm out of condoms."

She leaned forward and massaged his hairy pecs. “Not to worry, baby,” she said as she increased the tempo. “Your semen is going down my throat this time."

“God, Shelly, you're the greatest,” he gasped. “As long as you take care of me everyday, I guess I can put up with the competition."

“Sorry, big guy,” she said, rubbing her moist pubis hard against him. “Your boss and I wound up our business today."

“Then we must come up with another plan,” he pleaded as she dismounted and slithered between his outstretched legs.

Her lips hovered above his throbbing penis. “Come to the pool tomorrow,” she advised. She parted her lips and lowered her head.

While Annie sat in her high chair eating the hamburger bought on the way home, Shelly twisted the cap from a Budweiser and clicked on her computer. The expected e-mail from Boyd was there.

Surprise! I accept your conditions. I swear to God that I'll pleasure you at least once a week if you marry the guy. I'm serious about this, Shell, and I've given it a lot of thought. Even checked some things out on the Internet. If Sammy Boy is as lovesick as you claim, he'll agree to anything! Explain to him about your savings for Annie. Insist on a prenuptial agreement and make him take out a large life insurance policy. I mean LARGE! He can get a five million dollar term policy at a reasonable rate. Do it, Shell. Do it for Annie. Do it this weekend while you're fucking him at his place. Shit, refuse to fuck him until he agrees. That should do the trick!

“Mommy, I'm all through."

Shelly sipped her beer, pushed away from the computer, went to the kitchen and laughed. “Annie, you got more on you than in you."

“I'm sorry mommy."